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Chapter 11
12 September.--How good they all are to me. I quite love that dear Dr. Van Helsing. I
wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers. He positively frightened me, he
was so fierce. And yet he must have been right, for I feel comfort from them already.
Somehow, I do not dread being alone tonight, and I can go to sleep without fear. I shall
not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had
against sleep so often of late, the pain of sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep,
and with such unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose
lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and
brings nothing but sweet dreams. Well, here I am tonight, hoping for sleep, and lying
like Ophelia in the play, with`virgin crants and maiden strewments.' I never liked garlic
before, but tonight it is delightful! There is peace in its smell. I feel sleep coming already.
Goodnight, everybody.
13 September.--Called at the Berkeley and found Van Helsing, as usual, up to time.
The carriage ordered from the hotel was waiting. The Professor took his bag, which he
always brings with him now.
Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived at Hillingham at eight o'clock. It
was a lovely morning. The bright sunshine and all the fresh feeling of early autumn
seemed like the completion of nature's annual work. The leaves were turning to all kinds
of beautiful colors, but had not yet begun to drop from the trees. When we entered we
met Mrs. Westenra coming out of the morning room. She is always an early riser. She
greeted us warmly and said, "You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear child
is still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go in, lest I should disturb
her." The Professor smiled, and looked quite jubilant. He rubbed his hands together,
and said, "Aha! I thought I had diagnosed the case. My treatment is working." To which
she replied, "You must not take all the credit to yourself, doctor. Lucy's state this
morning is due in part to me."
"How do you mean, ma'am?" asked the Professor.
"Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went into her room. She was
sleeping soundly, so soundly that even my coming did not wake her. But the room was
awfully stuffy. There were a lot of those horrible, strongsmelling flowers about
everywhere, and she had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I feared that the
heavy odor would be too much for the dear child in her weak state, so I took them all
away and opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh air. You will be pleased with
her, I am sure."
She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually breakfasted early. As she had
spoken, I watched the Professor's face, and saw it turn ashen gray. He had been able to
retain his self-command whilst the poor lady was present, for he knew her state and