“Sure as sure, master.  Jack the Giant Killer couldn’t remove them ’ere bars.”

“Because,” said Dr. Oleander, “she is quite capable, in her mad fits, of precipitating herself out of the window and breaking her neck.  And be careful, Sally, you cut up her food when you take it to her.  Don’t bring her any knives or forks.”

“I said I wouldn’t go near her,” said old Sally, facing him resolutely; “and I won’t!  And what’s more, Peter won’t!  And if you fetches mad-women here, Doctor Guy, you’ve got to ’tend onto ’em yourself, sir.  I won’t be ’sassynated in my old age by crazy lunatics; and no more my old man won’t, neither.  There now!”

Sally finished with a shower of resolute nods.  Dr. Oleander knew her a great deal too well to remonstrate.  When Sally “put her foot down” all the powers of earth and Hades couldn’t put it up again.

“You will be here yourself to-morrow, Guy,” said his mother, decisively.  “Wait upon her yourself, then.”

“But I must return to New York to-morrow afternoon.”

“Very well; get an attendant for your crazy patient and send her down.  If the young lady’s friends are as wealthy as you say, they will surely let her have a keeper.”

“They will let her have a dozen if necessary; that is not the question.”

“What, then?”

“Have you accommodation for another in this old barn?  Can you put up with the trouble?”

“We’ll endeavor to do so for your sake.  It is easier to put up with another person in the house than be at the beck and call of a lunatic ourselves.  Send one from New York capable of taking care of your crazy young lady, and Sally and I will take care of her.”

“Thanks!  And meantime?”

“Meantime, I will wait upon her myself—­if you will assure me she will not be violent.”

“I think I can.  She is only violent with me, poor soul.  She has got an idea into her weak, deranged little head that she is as sane as you or I, and that I have carried her off by force and keep her prisoner here.  She goes raving mad at sight of me, but with you she may probably be cool enough.  She will tell you a piteous story of how she has been entrapped and carried off from home, if you will listen to her.  You had better not; it only encourages her unfortunate delusion.”

Mrs. Oleander shrugged her broad shoulders.  She was an old woman of strong mind and iron resolution, and nothing in the way of heart to speak of.  Her accomplished son took after her in these admirable qualities.

“I have other fish to fry than listening to the empty babble of a maniac.  By the bye, what did you say her name was?”

“Miss Dane,” responded the doctor, after a slight pause.

He knew he might as well tell the truth about it, or Mollie herself would for him.

“And she is a relative of Blanche’s husband?”

“A very near though unacknowledged relation.  And now, mother mine, I’ll take my supper and turn in if you’ll permit me.  I’ve had a very long and fatiguing drive this stormy night.”