I bowed low to the lady and tried to put myself and her at ease.
"Mrs. Hopkins, I"m afraid your husband is poking fun at me, and thinks my liver is out of order, but, really, I did imagine I saw changing expression in your eyes in that picture--in fact, I named you "My Lady of the Eyes.""
She laughed--with her eyes--held out her hands and made me welcome.
"That name is something like mine," said Hopkins, "I call her Talking Eyes.""
Then Hopkins brought in his little three-year-old daughter, who immediately climbed on my knee, captured my watch, and asked:
"What oo name?"
"John," said I.
"Don, Don," she repeated; "my name Maddie."
"That"s Daddy"s chum," put in Hopkins.
"Tum," repeated Maddie.
"Uncle Chummy," said Hopkins.
"Untle Tummie."
And I was "Untle Tummie" to little Madeline and "Chummy" to Hopkins and his wife from then on.
Mrs. Hopkins wore her veil at home as well as abroad, but it was so neatly arranged and worn so naturally that I soon became entirely used to it, in fact, didn"t notice it. Otherwise, she was a well-dressed, handsomely set up woman, a splendid musician and a capital companion.
She sat at her work listening, while Hopkins and I "railroaded" and argued about politics, and religion and everything else under the sun.
Mrs. Hopkins took sides freely; a glance at her eyes told where she stood on any question.
Between "Scar Face" Hopkins and his handsome wife there appeared to be perfect sympathy and confidence. Sitting in silence, they glanced from one to the other now and again, smiled, nodded--and understood.
I was barred from the house for a month during the winter because little Madeline had the scarlet fever, then epidemic, but it was reported a light case and I contented myself with sending her toys and candy.
One day I dropped into Hopkins" office to make inquiry, when a clerk told me Hopkins had not been to the office for several days. Mrs.
Hopkins was sick. I made another round trip and inquired again, and got the same answer; then I went up to the house.
The officious quarantine guard was still walking up and down in front of the Hopkins residence. To a single inquiry, this voluble functionary volunteered the information that the baby was all right now, but the lady herself was very sick with scarlet fever. Hopkins was most crazy, no trained nurses could be had for love nor money, the doctor was coming three times a day, and did I know that Mrs. Hopkins was some kind of a foreign Dago, and the whole outfit "queer?"
Hopkins was in trouble; I pushed open the gate and started up the walk.
"Hey, young feller, where yer goin"," demanded the guard.
"Into the house, of course."
"D"ye know if you go in ye got to stay for the next two weeks?"
"Perfectly."
"Then go on, you darned fool."
And I went on.
Hopkins met me, hollow-eyed and haggard.
"Chum," said he, "you"ve come to prison, but I"m glad. Help is out of reach. If you can take care of Maddie, the girl will do the cooking and I will--I will do my duty."
And night and day he did do his duty, being alone with his wife except for the few moments of the doctor"s calls.
One evening, after my little charge had been put to sleep downstairs by complying with her invariable order to "tell me a "tory "bout when oo was a "ittle teenty weenty boy," the doctor came down with a grave face.
"Our patient has reached the worst stage--delirium. The turn will come to-night. Poor Hopkins is about worn out, and I"m afraid may need you.
Please don"t go to bed; be "on call.""
One hour, two hours, I sat there without hearing a sound from upstairs.
I was drowsy and remembering that I had missed my evening smoke I lighted my pipe, silently opened the front door and stepped out upon the porch to get a whiff of fresh air. It was a still dark night, and I tiptoed down to the end that overlooked the city and stood looking at the lights and listening to the music of the switch engines in the yards below the hill. The porch was in darkness except the broad beam of light from the hall gas jet through the open door.
The lights below made me think of home and my wife and little ones sleeping safely, I hoped, close to the coastwise lights of the Old Colony.
I thought I heard a stealthy footfall behind me, and turned around to face an apparition that made the cold chill creep up my back. If ever there was a ghost, this must be one, an object in white not six feet from me.
I"m not at all afraid of ghosts when I reach my second wind, and I grabbed at this one. It moved backward silently and as I made a quick step toward it that specter let out the most blood-curdling yell I ever heard--the shriek of a maniac.
I stepped quicker now, but it moved away until it stood in the flood of light from the doorway, and then I saw a sight that took all the strength out of me. The most awful and frightful face I ever beheld, and,--it was the face of Madeline Hopkins.
The neck and jaw and mouth were drawn and seamed and scarred in a frightful and hideous manner, the teeth protruded and the mouth was drawn to one side in a frightful leer; above that was all the beauty of "My Lady of the Eyes."
For a moment I was dumb and powerless, and in that moment Hopkins appeared with a bound, and between us we captured my poor friend"s wife and struggled and fought with her up the long stairs and back to her bed.
Sitting one on either side, we had all we could do to hold her hands.
She would lift us both to our feet, she was struggling desperately, and the eyes were the eyes of a tigress.
When this strain was at its worst and every nerve on edge, another scream from behind us cut our ears like a needle, the eyes of the tigress as well as ours sought the door, and there in her golden curls and white "nightie" stood little Madeline. The eyes of the tigress softened to tenderest love, and with a bound, the baby was on her mother"s breast, her arms around her neck, and she was saying, "Poor Mama, what they doin" to poor Mama?"
"My darling, my darling," said the mother in the sweetest of tones.
I unconsciously released my hold upon the arm I held, and she drew the sheet up and covered her face as I was wont to see it, and held it there. With the other, she gently stroked the baby curls.
I watched this transformation as if under a spell.
Suddenly she turned her head toward Hopkins, her eyes full of tenderness and pity and love, reached out her hand and said:
"Oh, Steadman, my voice has come back, G.o.d has taken off the curse."
But poor Hopkins was on his knees beside the bed, his face buried in his arms, his strong shoulders heaving and pitiful sobs breaking from his very heart.
A couple of months afterward I resigned to go back to G.o.d"s country, the home of the east wind, and where I could know my own children and speak to my own wife without an introduction, and the Hopkins invited me to a farewell dinner.
"My Lady of the Eyes" presided, looking handsomer and stronger than usual, but she didn"t eat with us. But with eyes and voice she entertained us so royally and pleasantly that Hopkins and I did eating enough for all.