While the doctor had been speaking, he had begun to make mesmeric passes in front of Mrs. Elles, and it was quite certain that she did not hear the conclusion of his speech, or Egidia’s answer. Her eyelids closed, she began to breathe regularly, she lay back, but no longer in an attitude of tension. She would have been pleased to know how exquisitely pretty and helpless she looked, and how plainly Dr. André’s face showed that he thought so. Even Egidia was touched, in spite of her annoyance at the little trick she had played on them all. But then it had failed so absurdly, so lamentably!
“Poor little thing!” she said thoughtfully to Rivers. “It is curious how comedy dogs her wherever she goes, and whatever she does. It is very hard to seek the sublime always and achieve—the ridiculous. I must be more gentle with her. I am hard.”
“No, you are very good!” said Rivers kindly.
As he spoke there was a ring at the outer door, and a pink envelope was put into Egidia’s hands.
“For her!” she said, indicating Mrs. Elles.
“Shall I bring her back?” said Dr. André.
“It is only something from her lawyers,” said Egidia.
“Why bring her back to worries?”
“But it is a telegram—Immediate. You must take the responsibility of opening it.”
“I will,” said Egidia. “She empowered me to open all her letters and telegrams once, in a moment of confidence.”