“Mary,” I asked pitifully enough, “didn't Robbie ever see the woman with red hair before I came to 'The Pines'?”
Unwillingly she shook her head. “No, miss. The first time he woke up screamin' about her was the night before Delia and Jane and Annie gave notice.”
“But he was afraid of red-haired women before, Mary, because, as soon as I took off my hat downstairs in the drawing-room the afternoon I arrived, he pointed at me and cried, 'It's her hair!'”
“Is that so, miss?” said Mary, much impressed. “Well, that does point to his havin' been scairt by some red-haired person before you come here.”
“Surely Robbie could tell you something that would explain the whole thing,” I said irritably. “Haven't you questioned him?”
Mary flung up her hands. “Have n't I? As long as I dared, Miss Gale, it's as much as his life is worth. Dr. Haverstock has forbidden it absolutely.”
“That's strange, I think, for I know that the first way to be rid of some nervous terror is to confess its cause.”
“Yes, miss.” Mary was evidently impressed by my knowledge. “And that's just what Dr. Haverstock said hisself. But he says it has got to be drawn out of Robbie by what he calls the indirect method. He has asked Mr. Dabney to win the child's confidence; that is, it was Mr. Dabney's own suggestion, I believe. Mr. Dabney was with Mrs. Brane and the doctor when they was discussing Robbie and he says he likes children and they likes him, as, indeed, they do, miss. Robbie and him are like two kiddies together, a-playin' at railroads and such in the gravel yesterday--”
“Did he ask Robbie about the red-haired woman yesterday, because that may have brought on the nightmare last night?”
“I don't know, miss. I was n't in earshot of them. Mr. Dabney, he always coaxes Robbie a bit away from the bench where I set and sew out here.”
“I think I'll ask Mr. Dabney,” I said. I began to move away; then, with an afterthought I turned back to Mary. She was studying me with a dubious air.
“I think we had better try the plan of watching closely over Robbie before we say anything to alarm Mrs. Brane,” I said. “It would distress her very much to move Robbie out of his nursery, and she has been very tired and languid lately. She has been doing too much, I think. This new woman, Sara Lorrence, is a terror for house-cleaning, and she's urged Mrs. Brane to let her give the old part of the house a thorough cleaning. Mrs. Brane simply won't keep away. She works almost as hard as Sara, and goes into every crack and cranny and digs out old rubbish--nothing's more exhausting.”