After some further consideration, he directed a system of treatment which, in some respects, anticipated the practice of a later and wiser time. Having looked at the women assembled round the bed—and especially at Madame Fontaine—he said he would provide a competent nurse, and would return to see the effect of the remedies in two hours.
Looking at Madame Fontaine, after the doctor had gone away, Mr. Keller felt more perplexed than ever. She presented the appearance of a woman who was completely unnerved. "I am afraid you are far from well yourself," he said.
"I have not felt well, sir, for some time past," she answered, without looking at him.
"You had better try what rest and quiet will do for you," he suggested.
"Yes, I think so." With that reply—not even offering, for the sake of appearances, to attend on Mrs. Wagner until the nurse arrived—she took her daughter's arm, and went out.
The woman-servant was fortunately a discreet person. She remembered the medical instructions, and she undertook all needful duties, until the nurse relieved her. Jack (who had followed the doctor into the room, and had watched him attentively) was sent away again for the time. He would go no farther than the outer side of the door. Mr. Keller passed him, crouched up on the mat, biting his nails. He was apparently thinking of the doctor. He said to himself, "That man looked puzzled; that man knows nothing about it."
In the meantime, Madame Fontaine reached her room.
"Where is Fritz?" she asked, dropping her daughter's arm.
"He has gone out, mamma. Don't send me away! You seem to be almost as ill as poor Mrs. Wagner—I want to be with you."
Madame Fontaine hesitated. "Do you love me with all your heart and soul?" she asked suddenly. "Are you worthy of any sacrifice that a mother can make for her child?"