Mrs. Falchion, I knew, was selfish, and would not, or could not,
see that she was hard upon the girl, by such exactions as midnight
reading and loss of sleep. She demanded not merely physical but mental
energy--a complete submission of both; and when this occurred with a
sensitive, high-strung girl, she was literally feeding on another's
life-blood. If she had been told this, she, no doubt, would have been
very much surprised.
I reassured Justine. I told her that I should say nothing directly to
Mrs. Falchion, for I saw she was afraid of unpleasantness; but I
impressed upon her that she must spare herself, or she would break down,
and extorted a promise that she would object to sitting up after midnight
to read to Mrs. Falchion.
When this was done, she said: "But, you see, it is not madame's fault
that I am troubled."
"I do not wish," I said, "to know any secret,--I am a doctor, not a
priest,--but if there is anything you can tell me, in which I might be
able to help you, you may command me in so far as is possible." Candidly,
I think I was too inquiring in those days.
She smiled wistfully, and replied: "I will think of what you say so
kindly, and perhaps, some day soon, I will tell you of such trouble as I
have.
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