“Too young!” snapped Sir Jonathan.  “Rubbish!  Do you know why you are afraid to-day of falling from a height?”

“No,” replied Susan Hetth, cordially loathing the man, his methods, and his manners.

“Because,” he answered roughly, “you were frightened of falling from your mother’s or your nurse’s arms when you were a few months old, and the impression of height and fear made upon your baby mind is still with you, that’s why!”

“The brute!” she thought, as she smiled the propitiatory smile of one who is afraid and murmured, “How very interesting!”

“Is there anything else you can tell me about your little niece? no matter how trivial a detail!  Has she ever screamed for hours as she screamed this morning?  Does she get angry?  I mean mad angry!”

“No!” replied the aunt.  “From what her nurse and daily governess tell me she seems to be remarkably sweet-tempered.  You see I don’t—­I haven’t—­I don’t see much of her.  I’m—­I’ve—­you see I have so many friends over here!”

The man snorted.

“I must say,” she continued, “I have never met a child so averse from being kissed or being made a fuss of—­she hates anyone to touch her, even—­even me, her mother, as you might say; but they say she is tractable, and has never been known to lose her temper, or slap, or scratch, as some children do—­no! there is really nothing to tell about her—­of course she walks a bit in her sleep, at least so her Nannie says!”

The specialist’s hand crashed on the table.  “Good God, woman!” he flung at her, “what in heaven’s name are you modern women made of?  How long has she been walking in her sleep?  Tell me all you know at once—­and remember it’s your niece’s brain and her future you are talking about, so try and describe this sleep-walking with as much interest and regard to detail as you would if you were talking about a new dress.  Why in heaven’s name didn’t you send her with the nurse—­the servant—­instead of coming yourself—­I might have learnt something about the child then!”

It seemed that Leonie while still quite a baby had walked about the night nursery in her sleep; that she had been found in the day nursery and on the lower landing, but had always gone back to bed without waking; that she muttered a lot of rubbish which the nurse could not understand, and was always very tired next day.  That now that she was older she slept in a room by herself as she became unaccountably restless and wide awake if anyone slept in the room with her.  No! the nurse had never noticed the hour or the date, or anything, and that was really all, and “couldn’t you give the child a dose of bromide.”

Which sentence served to finish the history and to bring Sir Jonathan with a bound from his chair.