In the hotel lobby he met Fru Bjork, anxious inquiry written large upon her face.
"Now, Doctor, what is the matter with Ragna? I am really most anxious about the child."
"My dear Signora," he said, "there is nothing to be alarmed about; I find her very much run down--there may be something more, but until I am certain I prefer not to say anything. All that she needs for the present is complete rest and quiet. I shall go up now and see if her headache is any better, and afterwards I would like to talk over with you the course of treatment I wish to propose for her general health."
"I will go up with you," said Fru Bjork, gathering her skirts about her. The Doctor raised a deprecating hand.
"Afterwards, my dear lady, afterwards. With her head as bad as it was this morning, she ought not to see more than one person at a time."
"Just as you say, Doctor--and I hope you will find the poor child more comfortable. I can't tell you Doctor, how glad I am that you are here to look after her--I have worried over her so, I love her as though she were my own child, and that's a fact. Go up to her then, and I'll wait for you here." She sank on to a wicker settee, fanning herself with an awkward jerky movement.
Ferrati went to Ragna's room, and listened an instant at the door; there was no sound within--He tapped gently and entered in obedience to a languid "Come in!"
Ragna lay on the bed, staring towards the window. She was very pale, her eyes had dark circles and her features looked pinched and worn--In a toneless voice she asked the Doctor to be seated, and he drew a chair beside the bed. He felt her pulse, which was regular, but weak, and glanced anxiously at the sharpened delicacy of her face.
"Oh, very tired," she answered wearily, "and rather stunned. My head seems too weak to think--and I must think," she added desperately, passing a hand over her forehead.
"I told you not to worry, that I would do the thinking for you," he reminded her. "Now is it essential that your friends should not guess--or could you take Fru Bjork into your confidence? Would she not help you?" He thought of the motherly anxiety the good woman had just displayed, and wondered if Virginia had not been wrong.