care twopence for her mistrust--but for other reasons. Complicated,
disquieting thoughts broke up the whole repose of my nature. However,
that turmoil subsided: next day I was again Lucy Snowe.

On revisiting my drawers, I found them all securely locked; the closest
subsequent examination could not discover change or apparent
disturbance in the position of one object. My few dresses were folded
as I had left them; a certain little bunch of white violets that had
once been silently presented to me by a stranger (a stranger to me, for
we had never exchanged words), and which I had dried and kept for its
sweet perfume between the folds of my best dress, lay there unstirred;
my black silk scarf, my lace chemisette and collars, were unrumpled.
Had she creased one solitary article, I own I should have felt much
greater difficulty in forgiving her; but finding all straight and
orderly, I said, "Let bygones be bygones. I am unharmed: why should I
bear malice?"

* * * * *

A thing there was which puzzled myself, and I sought in my brain a key
to that riddle almost as sedulously as Madame had sought a guide to
useful knowledge in my toilet drawers. How was it that Dr. John, if he
had not been accessory to the dropping of that casket into the garden,
should have known that it _was_ dropped, and appeared so promptly on
the spot to seek it? So strong was the wish to clear up this point that
I began to entertain this daring suggestion: "Why may I not, in case I
should ever have the opportunity, ask Dr. John himself to explain this
coincidence?"

And so long as Dr. John was absent, I really believed I had courage to
test him with such a question.

Little Georgette was now convalescent; and her physician accordingly
made his visits very rare: indeed, he would have ceased them
altogether, had not Madame insisted on his giving an occasional call
till the child should be quite well.

She came into the nursery one evening just after I had listened to
Georgette's lisped and broken prayer, and had put her to bed. Taking
the little one's hand, she said, "Cette enfant a toujours un peu de
fievre." And presently afterwards, looking at me with a quicker glance
than was habitual to her quiet eye, "Le Docteur John l'a-t-il vue
dernierement? Non, n'est-ce pas?"

Of course she knew this better than any other person in the house.
"Well," she continued, "I am going out, pour faire quelques courses en
fiacre. I