PAGE 7
The Lady In The Box
by
“But there was no need of anxiety. In a little while respiration was established; the heart began to beat gently; the blood slowly circulated; there was a little quiver about the lips–Donna Paltravi was alive! Her husband, on his knees beside her, lifted his eyes to heaven, and then, his head falling forward, he sank upon the floor.”
“Oh,” ejaculated the Daughter of the House, “I hope he did not die. That would have been good tragedy, but how dreadful!”
“No,” answered the gardener, “he did not die; and Jaqui, his excitement giving him the strength of a giant, took the insensible man in his arms and carried him out of the room.”
The Mistress of the House gave a little sigh of relief. “I am so glad he did,” said she; “I was actually beginning to be afraid. I really do not want to be present when she first sees him.”
John Gayther perfectly understood this remark, and took it to heart. It implied a little lack of faith in his dramatic powers, but it made things a great deal easier for him.
“Without reentering the room,” continued he, “Jaqui partly closed the door, and gazed at the lady through a little crack.”
“I do not know about that,” said the Mistress of the House; “he should have gone in boldly.”
“Excuse me,” said John Gayther, “but I think not. This was a very important moment. Nobody knew what would happen. She must not be shocked by seeing a stranger. At the same time, the eye of a professional man was absolutely necessary. Donna Paltravi slightly moved and sighed; then she opened her eyes and gazed for a few minutes at the ceiling; after which she turned her head upon the cushion of the couch, and in a clear, soft voice called out, ‘Rita!’ This was the name of the girl now in waiting, as it had been the name of her mother, and she instantly appeared from the adjoining room. She had seen all that had happened, and was trembling so much she could scarcely stand; but she was a girl of nerve, and approached and stood by her mistress. ‘Rita,’ said the lady, without looking at her, ‘I am hungry; bring me some wine and a few of those cakes you bought yesterday.’
“Dr. Paltravi had remembered everything that had pleased his wife; he had thought of the little cakes, and had scoured the town early in the morning to get some which resembled them; he knew her favorite wine, and had given Rita her instructions. Without delay the maid brought the refreshments, and in a few minutes the lady was sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand. ‘Rita,’ said she, after eating and drinking a little, ‘you are dressed very awkwardly this morning. Have you been trying to make your own clothes?’
“The doctor had searched diligently in his wife’s closets for some garments belonging to her former maid, and he had thought he had succeeded in getting Rita to dress as her mother had dressed; but he did not remember these things as accurately as his wife remembered them. ‘You know I do not like carelessness in dress,’ continued Donna Paltravi, ‘and now that I look at you more closely–‘
“‘She is truly alive,’ said Jaqui, ‘and in full possession of her senses.’ And with this he closed the door.
“When the doctor recovered, both he and Jaqui were very glad to take some wine, for they had been under a dreadful strain.”
“Had been!” exclaimed the Mistress of the House, who understood the heart of woman, and knew very well that the great strain had not yet come. “But what happened next, John?”
“The next thing happened too soon,” replied the gardener. “In less than fifteen minutes the maid came to the two doctors and told them her lady demanded to see her husband; and if he were not in the house he must be sent for immediately. This greatly disturbed Jaqui, and he turned pale again. If he could have had his own way at that moment he would have put the lady back in her box and locked the door of the little room. He did not feel ready to tell the story he had to tell; but there was no help for it: he must do it, and that immediately. ‘Go in, Jaqui,’ said Dr. Paltravi; ‘prepare her mind as well as you can, and then I will see her.’