Nothing could be more beautiful than
her tints. Her beauty was, I think, enhanced by that graceful languor
that was peculiar to her. I think my father was silently contrasting
her looks with mine, for he said:

“I wish my poor Laura was looking more like herself”; and he sighed. So our alarms were happily ended, and Carmilla restored to her friends. IX. The Doctor

As Carmilla would not hear of an attendant sleeping in her room, my
father arranged that a servant should sleep outside her door, so that
she would not attempt to make another such excursion without being
arrested at her own door. That night passed quietly; and next morning early, the doctor, whom my
father had sent for without telling me a word about it, arrived to see
me. Madame accompanied me to the library; and there the grave little
doctor, with white hair and spectacles, whom I mentioned before, was
waiting to receive me. I told him my story, and as I proceeded he grew graver and graver. We were standing, he and I, in the recess of one of the windows, facing
one another. When my statement was over, he leaned with his shoulders
against the wall, and with his eyes fixed on me earnestly, with an
interest in which was a dash of horror. After a minute’s reflection, he asked Madame if he could see my father. He was sent for accordingly, and as he entered, smiling, he said:

“I dare say, doctor, you are going to tell me that I am an old fool for
having brought you here; I hope I am.”

But his smile faded into shadow as the doctor, with a very grave face,
beckoned him to him. He and the doctor talked for some time in the same recess where I had
just conferred with the physician. It seemed an earnest and
argumentative conversation. The room is very large, and I and Madame
stood together, burning with curiosity, at the farther end. Not a word
could we hear, however, for they spoke in a very low tone, and the deep
recess of the window quite concealed the doctor from view, and very
nearly my father, whose foot, arm, and shoulder only could we see; and
the voices were, I suppose, all the less audible for the sort of closet
which the thick wall and window formed. After a time my father’s face looked into the room; it was pale,
thoughtful, and, I fancied, agitated. “Laura, dear, come here for a moment. Madame, we shan’t trouble you,
the doctor says, at present.”

Accordingly I approached, for the first time a little alarmed; for,
although I felt very weak, I did not feel ill; and strength, one always
fancies, is a thing that may be picked up when we please. My father held out his hand to me, as I drew near, but he was looking
at the doctor, and he said:

“It certainly is very odd; I don’t understand it quite. Laura, come
here, dear; now attend to Doctor Spielsberg, and recollect yourself.”

“You mentioned a sensation like that of two needles piercing the skin,
somewhere about your neck, on the night when you experienced your first
horrible dream. Is there still any soreness?”

“None at all,” I answered. “Can you indicate with your finger about the point at which you think
this occurred?”

“Very little below my throat—here,” I answered. I wore a morning dress, which covered the place I pointed to. “Now you can satisfy yourself,” said the doctor. “You won’t mind your
papa’s lowering your dress a very little. It is necessary, to detect a
symptom of the complaint under which you have been suffering.”

I acquiesced. It was only an inch or two below the edge of my collar. “God bless me!—so it is,” exclaimed my father, growing pale. “You see it now with your own eyes,” said the doctor, with a gloomy
triumph. “What is it?” I exclaimed, beginning to be frightened. “Nothing, my dear young lady, but a small blue spot, about the size of
the tip of your little finger; and now,” he continued, turning to papa,
“the question is what is best to be done?”

Is there any danger?”I urged, in great trepidation. “I trust not, my dear,” answered the doctor. “I don’t see why you
should not recover. I don’t see why you should not begin immediately to
get better. That is the point at which the sense of strangulation
begins?”

“Yes,” I answered. “And—recollect as well as you can—the same point was a kind of center
of that thrill which you described just now, like the current of a cold
stream running against you?”

“It may have been; I think it was.”

“Ay, you see?” he added, turning to my father. “Shall I say a word to
Madame?”

“Certainly,” said my father. He called Madame to him, and said:

“I find my young friend here far from well. It won’t be of any great
consequence, I hope; but it will be necessary that some steps be taken,
which I will explain by-and-by; but in the meantime, Madame, you will
be so good as not to let Miss Laura be alone for one moment. That is
the only direction I need give for the present. It is indispensable.”

“We may rely upon your kindness, Madame, I know,” added my father. Madame satisfied him eagerly. “And you, dear Laura, I know you will observe the doctor’s direction.”

“I shall have to ask your opinion upon another patient, whose symptoms
slightly resemble those of my daughter, that have just been detailed to
you—very much milder in degree, but I believe quite of the same sort. She is a young lady—our guest; but as you say you will be passing this
way again this evening, you can’t do better than take your supper here,
and you can then see her. She does not come down till the afternoon.”

“I thank you,” said the doctor. “I shall be with you, then, at about
seven this evening.”

And then they repeated their directions to me and to Madame, and with
this parting charge my father left us, and walked out with the doctor;
and I saw them pacing together up and down between the road and the
moat, on the grassy platform in front of the castle, evidently absorbed
in earnest conversation. The doctor did not return. I saw him mount his horse there, take his
leave, and ride away eastward through the forest. Nearly at the same time I saw the man arrive from Dranfield with the
letters, and dismount and hand the bag to my father. In the meantime, Madame and I were both busy, lost in conjecture as to
the reasons of the singular and earnest direction which the doctor and
my father had concurred in imposing. Madame, as she afterwards told me,
was afraid the doctor apprehended a sudden seizure, and that, without
prompt assistance, I might either lose my life in a fit, or at least be
seriously hurt. The interpretation did not strike me; and I fancied, perhaps luckily
for my nerves, that the arrangement was prescribed simply to secure a
companion, who would prevent my taking too much exercise, or eating
unripe fruit, or doing any of the fifty foolish things to which young
people are supposed to be prone. About half an hour after my father came in—he had a letter in his
hand—and said:

“This letter had been delayed; it is from General Spielsdorf.