"She always complains of her feet," the mother explained. "She can't walk for quite a little while afterwards."
"You poor thing!" exclaimed Kate. "You are a martyr--that's what you are."
Viola looked up with sweet and anxious glance. "Did anything happen? Did your friends come to you, Mrs. Rice?"
"No, but several voices spoke to Morton."
"I'm sorry no one came to you. I've been a long way off this time," she continued, with dreamy, inward glance, "into a beautiful country from which I hated to return. I wouldn't have come back to you at all only a thread of light tied my soul to my body and drew me down to earth in spite of myself."
"What was it like--that far country?" asked Morton.
She pondered sleepily. "I can't tell you--only it was very beautiful and I was happy. Every one lived in the light with nothing to fear. I had no memory of the earth--only of my body which I was sorry for. There was no death, no cold, no darkness up there. I was very happy and free."
"You should be free and happy here," answered Morton, gravely. "Come, doctor, can't we free her now?"
"Yes, you may do so," he replied, still busy with his note-book.
The young host, with a feeling of having been unnecessarily brutal, ripped the tape loose from the floor, and Kate slipped the loops from Viola's ankles. Then, leaning on her hostess's arm, she rose slowly, smiling brightly, her weakness most appealing. "I hope a great deal happened--it means so much to me. I want to talk, but I can't now, my head is too thick. You must tell me all about it pretty soon."
"A great deal happened--you are quite clear of any connection with it."
Her face lit with placid joy. "Oh, I'm so glad! It must be very late," she added, turning to her mother.
"Yes, and we must be going," responded Mrs. Lambert, nervously. "Mr. Pratt will be impatient."
"I wish you'd stay with me to-night," pleaded Kate. "It was all so wonderful. I can't let you go. Please stay! Both of you. You're too tired to go out into the raw air."
"Oh no, we can't do that--not to-night," Viola answered, decisively.
Morton threw back the doors. "Kate, take Miss Lambert into the dining-room and give her something to drink. She is quite exhausted. Let me steady you," he said, tenderly, touching her arm. "You fairly reel with weakness."
"I will be as well as ever as soon as my blood begins to circulate," she bravely answered, and his touch quickened her pulse miraculously.
As soon as Weissmann had finished taking his notes and measurements, he locked the door of the library and joined them all in the dining-room, where they were sipping coffee and nibbling cake. Morton was sitting beside Viola (who had entirely regained her girlish lightness of mood), and was chafing her cold hand in the effort to restore the circulation as well as to remove the deep mark the silken thread had made about her wrist.