The family physician, who was hurriedly summoned to the strangely-affected child, entered the dwelling of Mr. Dainty in about thirty minutes after the departure of Mrs. Jeckyl. He found Madeline showing a few signs of returning animation, but not of conscious life. Her face was still of an ashen hue, and its expression painful to look upon. At first he asked no questions, endeavoring, by an observation of her symptoms, to comprehend the case. He soon saw that extraordinary causes had been at work, and that the child’s condition was one not to be reached through ordinary treatment. After looking at her for some minutes, and examining all the life-indications, he said, turning to Mr. Dainty,—
“How long has she been in this state?”
“More than half an hour.”
“What produced it?”
“I am not able to answer your question,—at least, not satisfactorily. To me her state is unaccountable.”
“Had she a fall, or a fright?” asked the physician.
“Neither. And yet her mind was seriously disturbed.”
“By what?”
“I can scarcely explain, for I am in doubt myself.”
“Perhaps your wife can answer my questions more clearly.” And the physician addressed himself to Mrs. Dainty. But the mother was silent. To her mind there was a deep mystery in the affair. That Madeline’s state was, in some way, dependent upon Mrs. Jeckyl’s influence over her, she had a vague conviction. But as to the manner and meaning of this influence she was in total ignorance.