In the hall two of the maids came to me, and asked if they or either of them might not sit up with Miss Lucy.  They implored me to let them, and when I said it was Dr. Van Helsing’s wish that either he or I should sit up, they asked me quite piteously to intercede with the ‘foreign gentleman’.  I was much touched by their kindness.  Perhaps it is because I am weak at present, and perhaps because it was on Lucy’s account, that their devotion was manifested.  For over and over again have I seen similar instances of woman’s kindness.  I got back here in time for a late dinner, went my rounds, all well, and set this down whilst waiting for sleep.  It is coming.

11 September.—­This afternoon I went over to Hillingham.  Found Van Helsing in excellent spirits, and Lucy much better.  Shortly after I had arrived, a big parcel from abroad came for the Professor.  He opened it with much impressment, assumed, of course, and showed a great bundle of white flowers.

“These are for you, Miss Lucy,” he said.

“For me?  Oh, Dr. Van Helsing!”

“Yes, my dear, but not for you to play with.  These are medicines.”  Here Lucy made a wry face.  “Nay, but they are not to take in a decoction or in nauseous form, so you need not snub that so charming nose, or I shall point out to my friend Arthur what woes he may have to endure in seeing so much beauty that he so loves so much distort.  Aha, my pretty miss, that bring the so nice nose all straight again.  This is medicinal, but you do not know how.  I put him in your window, I make pretty wreath, and hang him round your neck, so you sleep well.  Oh, yes!  They, like the lotus flower, make your trouble forgotten.  It smell so like the waters of Lethe, and of that fountain of youth that the Conquistadores sought for in the Floridas, and find him all too late.”

Whilst he was speaking, Lucy had been examining the flowers and smelling them.  Now she threw them down saying, with half laughter, and half disgust,

“Oh, Professor, I believe you are only putting up a joke on me.  Why, these flowers are only common garlic.”

To my surprise, Van Helsing rose up and said with all his sternness, his iron jaw set and his bushy eyebrows meeting,

“No trifling with me!  I never jest!  There is grim purpose in what I do, and I warn you that you do not thwart me.  Take care, for the sake of others if not for your own.”  Then seeing poor Lucy scared, as she might well be, he went on more gently, “Oh, little miss, my dear, do not fear me.  I only do for your good, but there is much virtue to you in those so common flowers.  See, I place them myself in your room.  I make myself the wreath that you are to wear.  But hush!  No telling to others that make so inquisitive questions.  We must obey, and silence is a part of obedience, and obedience is to bring you strong and well into loving arms that wait for you.  Now sit still a while.  Come with me, friend John, and you shall help me deck the room with my garlic, which is all the way from Haarlem, where my friend Vanderpool raise herb in his glass houses all the year.  I had to telegraph yesterday, or they would not have been here.”