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Vaibhav Verdhan

Supervised Learning with Python

Concepts and Practical Implementation Using
Python
1st ed.

Foreword by Dr. Eli Yechezkiel Kling (PhD)

Vaibhav Verdhan
Limerick, Ireland

Any source code or other supplementary material referenced by the

author in this book is available to readers on GitHub via the book’s
product page, located at www.​apress.​com/​978-1-4842-6155-2. For
more detailed information, please visit http://​www.​apress.​com/​
source-code.

ISBN 978-1-4842-6155-2 e-ISBN 978-1-4842-6156-9

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-6156-9

© Vaibhav Verdhan 2020

Apress Standard

The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks,

service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the
absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the
relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general
use.

The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the
advice and information in this book are believed to be true and
accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the
authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with
respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions
that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard
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Distributed to the book trade worldwide by Springer Science+Business

Media New York, 233 Spring Street, 6th Floor, New York, NY 10013.
Phone 1-800-SPRINGER, fax (201) 348-4505, e-mail orders-
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Media, LLC is a California LLC and the sole member (owner) is Springer
Science + Business Media Finance Inc (SSBM Finance Inc). SSBM
Finance Inc is a Delaware corporation.
To Yashi, Pakhi and Rudra.
Foreword
How safe is home birthing? That is a good question. Pause a moment
and let yourself contemplate it.
I am sure you can see how the answer to this question can affect
personal decisions and policy choices. The answer could be given as a
probability, a level classification, or an alternative cost. Another natural
reaction is “it depends.” There are many factors that could affect the
safety of home birthing.
I took you through this thought exercise to show you that you
naturally think like a data scientist. You understood the importance of
stipulating clearly the focus of the analysis and what could explain
different outcomes. The reason you are embarking on a journey
through this book is that you are not sure how to express these
instinctive notions mathematically and instruct a computer to “find”
the relationship between the “Features” and the “Target.”
When I started my career 30-odd years ago, this was the domain of
statisticians who crafted a mathematical language to describe
relationships and noise. The purpose of predictive modeling was in its
essence to be a tool for separating a signal or a pattern out of
seemingly chaotic information and reporting how well the partition
was done.
Today, machine learning algorithms harnessing computing brute
force add a new paradigm. This has created a new profession: the data
scientist. The data scientist is a practitioner who can think in terms of
statistical methodology, instruct a computer to carry out the required
processing, and interpret the results and reports.
Becoming a good data scientist is a journey that starts with
learning the basics and mechanics. Once you are done exploring this
book you might also be able to better see where you will want to
deepen your theoretical knowledge. I would like to suggest you might
find it interesting to look into the theory of statistical modeling in
general and the Bayesian paradigm specifically. Machine learning is
computational statistics after all.
Dr. Eli. Y. Kling (BSc. Eng. MSc. PHD) London, UK. June 2020.
Introduction
“It is tough to make predictions, especially about the future.”
—Yogi Berra

In 2019, MIT’s Katie Bouman processed five petabytes of data to

develop the first-ever image of a black hole. Data science, machine
learning, and artificial intelligence played a central role in this
extraordinary discovery.
Data is the new electricity, and as per HBR, data scientist is the
“sexiest” job of the 21st century. Data is fueling business decisions and
making its impact felt across all sectors and walks of life. It is allowing
us to create intelligent products, improvise marketing strategies,
innovate business strategies, enhance safety mechanisms, arrest fraud,
reduce environmental pollution, and create path-breaking medicines.
Our everyday life is enriched and our social media interactions are
more organized. It is allowing us to reduce costs, increase profits, and
optimize operations. It offers a fantastic growth and career path ahead,
but there is a dearth of talent in the field.
This book attempts to educate the reader in a branch of machine
learning called supervised learning. This book covers a spectrum of
supervised learning algorithms and respective Python
implementations. Throughout the book, we are discussing building
blocks of algorithms, their nuts and bolts, mathematical foundations,
and background process. The learning is complemented by developing
actual Python code from scratch with step-by-step explanation of the
code.
The book starts with an introduction to machine learning where
machine learning concepts, the difference between supervised, semi-
supervised, and unsupervised learning approaches, and practical use
cases are discussed. In the next chapter, we examine regression
algorithms like linear regression, multinomial regression, decision
tree, random forest, and so on. It is then followed by a chapter on
classification algorithms using logistic regression, naïve Bayes, knn,
decision tree, and random forest. In the next chapter, advanced
concepts of GBM, SVM, and neural network are studied. We are working
on structured data as well as text and image data in the book.
Pragmatic Python implementation complements the understanding. It
is then followed by the final chapter on end-to-end model development.
The reader gets Python code, datasets, best practices, resolution of
common issues and pitfalls, and pragmatic first-hand knowledge on
implementing algorithms. The reader will be able to run the codes and
extend them in an innovative manner, as well as will understand how to
approach a supervised learning problem. Your prowess as a data
science enthusiast is going to get a big boost, so get ready for these
fruitful lessons!
The book is suitable for researchers and students who want to
explore supervised learning concepts with Python implementation. It
is recommended for working professionals who yearn to stay on the
edge of technology, clarify advanced concepts, and get best practices
and solutions to common challenges. It is intended for business leaders
who wish to gain first-hand knowledge and develop confidence while
they communicate with their teams and clientele. Above all, it is meant
for a curious person who is trying to explore how supervised learning
algorithms work and who would like to try Python.
Stay blessed, stay healthy!

—Vaibhav Verdhan
Limerick,
Ireland. June 2020
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Apress publications, Celestin John, Shrikant
Vishwarkarma, and Irfan Elahi for the confidence shown and the
support extended. Many thanks to Dr. Eli Kling for the fantastic forward
to the book. Special words for my family—Yashi, Pakhi, and Rudra—
without their support it would have been impossible to complete this
work.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1:​Introduction to Supervised Learning
What Is ML?​
Relationship Between Data Analysis, Data Mining, ML, and
AI
Data, Data Types, and Data Sources
How ML Differs from Software Engineering
ML Projects
Statistical and Mathematical Concepts for ML
Supervised Learning Algorithms
Regression vs.​Classification Problems
Steps in a Supervised Learning Algorithm
Unsupervised Learning Algorithms
Cluster Analysis
PCA
Semi-supervised Learning Algorithms
Technical Stack
ML’s Popularity
Use Cases of ML
Summary
Chapter 2:​Supervised Learning for Regression Analysis
Technical Toolkit Required
Regression analysis and Use Cases
What Is Linear Regression
Assumptions of Linear Regression
Measuring the Efficacy of Regression Problem
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 Example 1:​Creating a Simple Linear Regression
Example 2:​Simple Linear Regression for Housing Dataset
Example 3:​Multiple Linear Regression for Housing Dataset
Nonlinear Regression Analysis
Identifying a Nonlinear Relationship
Assumptions for a Nonlinear Regression
Challenges with a Regression Model
Tree-Based Methods for Regression
Case study:​Petrol consumption using Decision tree
Ensemble Methods for Regression
Case study:​Petrol consumption using Random Forest
Feature Selection Using Tree-Based Methods
Summary
Chapter 3:​Supervised Learning for Classification Problems
Technical Toolkit Required
Hypothesis Testing and p-Value
Classification Algorithms
Logistic Regression for Classification
Assessing the Accuracy of the Solution
Case Study:​Credit Risk
Additional Notes
Naïve Bayes for Classification
Case Study:​Income Prediction on Census Data
k-Nearest Neighbors for Classification
Case Study:​k-Nearest Neighbor
The Dataset
 Business Objective
Tree-Based Algorithms for Classification
Types of Decision Tree Algorithms
Summary
Chapter 4:​Advanced Algorithms for Supervised Learning
Technical Toolkit Required
Boosting Algorithms
Using Gradient Boosting Algorithm
SVM
SVM in 2-D Space
KSVM
Case Study Using SVM
Supervised Algorithms for Unstructured Data
Text Data
Use Cases of Text Data
Challenges with Text Data
Text Analytics Modeling Process
Text Data Extraction and Management
Preprocessing of Text Data
Extracting Features from Text Data
Case study:​Customer complaints analysis using NLP
Word Embeddings
Case study:​Customer complaints analysis using word
embeddings
Image Data
Use Cases of Image Data
 Challenges with Image Data
Image Data Management Process
Image Data Modeling Process
Fundamentals of Deep Learning
Artificial Neural Networks
Activation Functions
Loss Function in a Neural Network
Optimization in a Neural Network
Neural Network Training Process
Case Study 1:​Create a Classification Model on Structured Data
Case Study 2:​Image Classification Model
Summary
Chapter 5:​End-to-End Model Development
Technical Toolkit Required
ML Model Development
Step 1:​Define the Business Problem
Step 2:​Data Discovery Phase
Step 3:​Data Cleaning and Preparation
Duplicates in the Dataset
Categorical Variable Treatment in Dataset
Missing Values Present in the Dataset
Imbalance in the Dataset
Outliers in the Dataset
Other Common Problems in the Dataset
Step 4:​EDA
Step 5:​ML Model Building
 Train/​Test Split of Data
Finding the Best Threshold for Classification Algorithms
Overfitting vs.​Underfitting Problem
Key Stakeholder Discussion and Iterations
Presenting the Final Model
Step 6:​Deployment of the Model
Step 7:​Documentation
Step 8:​Model Refresh and Maintenance
Summary
Index
About the Author
Vaibhav Verdhan
has 12+ years of experience in data
science, machine learning, and artificial
intelligence. An MBA with engineering
background, he is a hands-on technical
expert with acumen to assimilate and
analyze data. He has led multiple
engagements in ML and AI across
geographies and across retail, telecom,
manufacturing, energy, and utilities
domains. Currently he resides in Ireland
with his family and is working as a
Principal Data Scientist.
About the Technical Reviewer
Irfan Elahi
is a full stack customer-focused cloud
analytics specialist bearing the unique
and proven combination of diverse
consulting and technical competencies
(cloud, big data, and machine learning)
with a growing portfolio of successful
projects delivering substantial impact
and value in multiple capacities across
telecom, retail, energy, and health-care
sectors. Additionally, he is an analytics
evangelist as is evident from the
published book, Udemy courses,
blogposts, trainings, lectures, and
presentations with global reach.
© Vaibhav Verdhan 2020
V. Verdhan, Supervised Learning with Python
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-6156-9_1

1. Introduction to Supervised Learning

Vaibhav Verdhan1
(1) Limerick, Ireland

“The future belongs to those who prepare for it today.”

— Malcom X

The future is something which always interests us. We want to

know what lies ahead and then we can plan for it. We can mold our
business strategies, minimize our losses, and increase our profits if we
can predict the future. Predicting is traditionally intriguing for us. And
you have just taken the first step to learning about predicting the
future. Congratulations and welcome to this exciting journey!
You may have heard that data is the new oil. Data science and
machine learning (ML) are harnessing this power of data to generate
predictions for us. These capabilities allow us to examine trends and
anomalies, gather actionable insights, and provide direction to our
business decisions. This book assists in developing these capabilities.
We are going to study the concepts of ML and develop pragmatic code
using Python. You are going to use multiple datasets, generate insights
from data, and create predictive models using Python.
By the time you finish this book, you will be well versed in the
concepts of data science and ML with a focus on supervised learning.
We will examine concepts of supervised learning algorithms to solve
regression problems, study classification problems, and solve different
real-life case studies. We will also study advanced supervised learning
algorithms and deep learning concepts. The datasets are structured as
well as text and images. End-to-end model development and
deployment process are studied to complete the entire learning.
In this process, we will be examining supervised learning
algorithms, the nuts and bolts of them, statistical and mathematical
equations and the process, what happens in the background, and how
we use data to create the solutions. All the codes use Python and
datasets are uploaded to a GitHub repository
(https://github.com/Apress/supervised-learning-w-
python) for easy access. You are advised to replicate those codes
yourself.
Let’s start this learning journey.

What Is ML?
When we post a picture on Facebook or shop at Amazon, tweet or
watch videos on YouTube, each of these platforms is collecting data for
us. At each of these interactions, we are leaving behind our digital
footprints. These data points generated are collected and analyzed, and
ML allows these giants to make logical recommendations to us. Based
on the genre of videos we like, Netflix/YouTube can update our playlist,
what links we can click, and status we can react to; Facebook can
recommend posts to us, observing what type of product we frequently
purchase; and Amazon can suggest our next purchase as per our pocket
size! Amazing, right?
The short definition for ML is as follows: “In Machine Learning, we
study statistical/mathematical algorithms to learn the patterns from
the data which are then used to make predictions for the future.”
And ML is not limited to the online mediums alone. Its power has
been extended to multiple domains, geographies, and use cases. We
will be describing those use cases in detail in the last section of this
chapter.
So, in ML, we analyze vast amounts of data and uncover the
patterns in it. These patterns are then applied on real-world data to
make predictions for the future. This real-world data is unseen, and the
predictions will help businesses shape their respective strategies. We
do not need to explicitly program computers to do these tasks; rather,
the algorithms take the decisions based on historical data and
statistical models.
But how does ML fit into the larger data analysis landscape? Often,
we encounter terms like data analysis, data mining, ML, and artificial
intelligence (AI). Data science is also a loosely used phrase with no
exact definition available. It will be a good idea if these terms are
explored now.

Relationship Between Data Analysis, Data Mining,

ML, and AI
Data mining is a buzzword nowadays. It is used to describe the process
of collecting data from large datasets, databases, and data lakes,
extracting information and patterns from that data, and transforming
these insights into usable structure. It involves data management,
preprocessing, visualizations, and so on. But it is most often the very
first step in any data analysis project.
The process of examining the data is termed data analysis .
Generally, we trend the data, identify the anomalies, and generate
insights using tables, plots, histograms, crosstabs, and so on. Data
analysis is one of the most important steps and is very powerful since
the intelligence generated is easy to comprehend, relatable, and
straightforward. Often, we use Microsoft Excel, SQL for EDA. It also
serves as an important step before creating an ML model.
There is a question quite often discussed—what is the relationship
between ML, AI, and deep learning? And how does data science fit in?
Figure 1-1 depicts the intersections between these fields. AI can be
thought of as automated solutions which replace human-intensive
tasks. AI hence reduces the cost and time consumed as well as
improving the overall efficiency.
Figure 1-1 Relationship between AI, ML, deep learning, and data science shows how
these fields are interrelated with each other and empower each other
Deep learning is one of the hottest trends now. Neural networks are
the heart and soul of deep learning. Deep learning is a subset of AI and
ML and involves developing complex mathematical models to solve
business problems. Mostly we use neural networks to classify images
and analyze text audio and video data.
Data science lies at the juxtaposition of these various domains. It
involves not only ML but also statistics understanding, coding
expertise and business acumen to solve business problems. A data
scientist’s job is to solve business problems and generate actionable
insights for the business. Refer to Table 1-1 to understand the
capabilities of data science and its limitations.
Table 1-1 Data Science: How Can It Help Us, Its Usages, and Limitations
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 -

With the preceding discussion, the role of ML and its relationship

with other data-related fields should be clear to you. You would have
realized by now that “data” plays a pivotal role in ML. Let’s explore
more about data, its types and attributes.

Data, Data Types, and Data Sources

You already have some understanding of data for sure. It will be a good
idea to refresh that knowledge and discuss different types of datasets
generated and examples of it. Figure 1-2 illustrates the differentiation
of data.
Figure 1-2 Data can be divided between structured and unstructured. Structured
data is easier to work upon while generally deep learning is used for unstructured
data
Data is generated in all the interactions and transactions we do.
Online or offline: we generate data every day, every minute. At a bank, a
retail outlet, on social media, making a mobile call: every interaction
generates data.
Data comes in two flavors: structured data and unstructured data.
When you make that mobile call to your friend, the telecom operator
gets the data of the call like call duration, call cost, time of day, and so
on. Similarly, when you make an online transaction using your bank
portal, data is generated around the amount of transaction, recipient,
reason of transaction, date/time, and so on. All such data points which
can be represented in a row-column structure are called structured
data . Most of the data used and analyzed is structured. That data is
stored in databases and servers using Oracle, SQL, AWS, MySQL, and so
on.
Unstructured data is the type which cannot be represented in a
row-column structure, at least in its basic format. Examples of
unstructured data are text data (Facebook posts, tweets, reviews,
comments, etc.), images and photos (Instagram, product photos),
audio files (jingles, recordings, call center calls), and videos
(advertisements, YouTube posts, etc.). All of the unstructured data can
be saved and analyzed though. As you would imagine, it is more
difficult to analyze unstructured data than structured data. An
important point to be noted is that unstructured data too has to be
converted into integers so that the computers can understand it and
can work on it. For example, a colored image has pixels and each pixel
has RGB (red, green, blue) values ranging from 0 to 255. This means
that each image can be represented in the form of matrices having
integers. And hence that data can be fed to the computer for further
analysis.

Note We use techniques like natural language processing, image

analysis, and neural networks like convolutional neural networks,
recurrent neural networks, and so on to analyze text and image data.
A vital aspect often ignored and less discussed is data quality . Data
quality determines the quality of the analysis and insights generated.
Remember, garbage in, garbage out.
The attributes of a good dataset are represented in Figure 1-3.
While you are approaching a problem, it is imperative that you spend a
considerable amount of time ascertaining that your data is of the
highest quality.

Figure 1-3 Data quality plays a vital role in development of an ML solution; a lot of
time and effort are invested in improving data quality

We should ensure that data available to us conforms to the

following standards:
Completeness of data refers to the percentage of available
attributes. In real-world business, we find that many attributes are
missing, or have NULL or NA values. It is advisable to ensure we
source the data properly and ensure its completeness. During the
 data preparation phase, we treat these variables and replace them or
drop them as per the requirements. For example, if you are working
on retail transaction data, we have to ensure that revenue is
available for all or almost all of the months.
Data validity is to ensure that all the key performance indicators
(KPI) are captured during the data identification phase. The inputs
from the business subject matter experts (SMEs) play a vital role in
ensuring this. These KPIs are calculated and are verified by the SMEs.
For example, while calculating the average call cost of a mobile
subscriber, the SME might suggest adding/deleting few costs like
spectrum cost, acquisition cost, and so on.
Accuracy of the data is to make sure all the data points captured are
correct and no inconsistent information is in our data. It is observed
that due to human error or software issues, sometimes wrong
information is captured. For example, while capturing the number of
customers purchasing in a retail store, weekend figures are mostly
higher than weekdays. This is to be ensured during the exploratory
phase.
Data used has to be consistent and should not vary between systems
and interfaces. Often, different systems are used to represent a KPI.
For example, the number of clicks on a website page might be
recorded in different ways. The consistency in this KPI will ensure
that correct analysis is done, and consistent insights are generated.
While you are saving the data in databases and tables, often the
relationships between various entities and attributes are not
consistent or worse may not exist. Data integrity of the system
ensures that we do not face such issues. A robust data structure is
required for an efficient, complete, and correct data mining process.
The goal of data analytics is to find trends and patterns in the data.
There are seasonal variations, movements with respect to
days/time and events, and so on. Sometimes it is imperative that we
capture data of the last few years to measure the movement of KPIs.
The timeliness of the data captured has to be representative enough
to capture such variations.
Most common issues encountered in data are missing values,
duplicates, junk values, outliers, and so on. You will study in detail how
to resolve these issues in a logical and mathematical manner.
 By now, you have understood what ML is and what the attributes of
good-quality data are to ensure good analysis. But still a question is
unanswered. When we have software engineering available to us, why
do we still need ML? You will find the answer to this question in the
following section.

How ML Differs from Software Engineering

Software engineering and ML both solve business problems. Both
interact with databases, analyze and code modules, and generate
outputs which are used by the business. The business domain
understanding is imperative for both fields and so is the usability. On
these parameters, both software engineering and ML are similar.
However, the key difference lies in the execution and the approach
used to solve the business challenge.
Software writing involves writing precise code which can be
executed by the processor, that is, the computer. On the other hand, ML
collects historical data and understands trends in the data. Based on
the trends, the ML algorithm will predict the desired output. Let us look
at it with an easy example first.
Consider this: you want to automate the opening of a cola can.
Using software, you would code the exact steps with precise
coordinates and instructions. For that, you should know those precise
details. However, using ML, you would “show” the process of opening a
can to the system many times. The system will learn the process by
looking at various steps or “train” itself. Next time, the system can
open the can itself. Now let’s look at a real-life example.
Imagine you are working for a bank which offers credit cards. You
are in the fraud detection unit and it is your job to classify a transaction
as fraudulent or genuine. Of course, there are acceptance criteria like
transaction amount, time of transaction, mode of transaction, city of
transaction, and so on.
Let us implement a hypothetical solution using software; you might
implement conditions like those depicted in Figure 1-4. Like a decision
tree, a final decision can be made. Step 1: if the transaction amount is
below the threshold X, then move to step 2 or else accept it. In step 2,
Random documents with unrelated
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She raised her eyes to the dense purple of the sky, and let them
wander over the lovely gardens, drenched in silver glory—then
extended her hand.
“Thank you for all you have told me,” she said. “I shall remember it.
Good-night!”
 CHAPTER XI
The next day Diana entered upon her work,—and for a fortnight
following she was kept fully employed. But nothing mysterious,
nothing alarming or confusing to the mind was presented for her
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afterwards copied by the Latins, who for the most part, had left out
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Diana was a careful, clever, and devotedly conscientious worker;
nothing escaped her, and she shirked no pains to unravel the
difficulties, which to less interested students, might have seemed
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had noticed on entering, swung to and fro continuously, striking off
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close examination of the faded and difficult Latin script on which all
her energies were bent, she would lift her eyes and look at this
strange object as though it were a living companion in the room,
and would almost mentally ask it to disclose its meaning; and one
morning, impelled by a sudden fancy, she put her watch open on the
table, and measured the interval between one spark of fire and the
next. She at once found that the dots of flame were struck off with
precision at every second. They were, in fact, seconds of time.
“So that, if one had leisure to watch the thing,” she mused, “one
would know that when sixty fire-flashes have flown into air, one
minute has passed. And I wonder what becomes of these glittering
particles?”
She knew well enough that they did not perish, but were only
absorbed into another elemental organism. She had observed, too,
that the movement of the whole machine, delicately balanced on its
crystal pedestal, was sharp and emphatic when the sun was at the
meridian, and more subdued though not less precise in the
afternoon. She had very little opportunity, however, to continue a
long watching of this inexplicable and apparently meaningless
contrivance after midday, as then her hours of work were considered
over and she was free to do as she liked. Sometimes she remained
in her own apartments, practising her music, or reading,—and more
often than not she went for a drive out into the open country with
Madame Dimitrius with the light victoria and pair, which was a gift
from Dimitrius to his mother, who could not be persuaded to drive in
a motor-car. It was a charming turn-out, recognised in the
neighbourhood as “the Doctor’s carriage”—for though Geneva and
its environs are well supplied with many professors of medicine and
surgery, Dimitrius seemed at this period to have gained a reputation
apart from the rest as “the” doctor, par excellence. Once Diana
asked him whether he had a large practice? He laughed.
“None at all!” he replied. “I tell everybody that I have retired from
the profession in order to devote all my time to scientific research—
and this is true. But it does not stop people from sending for me at a
critical moment when all other efforts to save a life have failed. And
then of course I do my best.”
“And are you always successful?” she went on.
“Not always. How can I be? If I am sent for to rescue a man who
has overfed and over-drunken himself from his youth onwards, and
who, as a natural consequence, has not a single organ in his body
free from disease, all my skill is of no avail—I cannot hinder him
from toppling into the unconsciousness of the next embryo, where, it
is to be hoped, he will lose his diseases with his fleshy particles. I
can save a child’s life generally—and the lives of girls and women
who have not been touched by man. The life-principle is very strong
in these,—it has not been tampered with.”
He closed the conversation abruptly, and she perceived that he had
no inclination to talk of his own healing power or ability.
After about a month or six weeks at the Château Fragonard, Diana
began to feel very happy,—happier than she had ever been in her
life. Though she sometimes thought of her parents, she knew
perfectly that they were not people to grieve long about any
calamity,—besides which, her “death” was not a calamity so far as
they were concerned. They would call it such, for convention’s sake
and in deference to social and civil observances—but “Ma” would
console herself with a paid “companion-housekeeper”—and if that
companion-housekeeper chanced to be in the least good-looking or
youthful, “Pa” would blossom out into such a juvenility of white and
“fancy” waistcoats and general conduct as frequently distinguishes
elderly gentlemen who are loth to lose their reputation for gallantry.
And Diana wasted no time in what would have been foolish regret,
had she felt it, for her complete and fortunate severance from
“home” which was only home to her because her duty made her
consider it so. A great affection had sprung up between her and
Madame Dimitrius; the handsome old lady was a most lovable
personality, simple, pious, unaffected, and full of a devotion for her
son which was as touching as it was warm and deep. She had
absolute confidence in him, and never worried him by any
inquisitiveness concerning the labours which kept him nearly all day
away from her, shut up in his laboratory, which he alone had the
secret of opening or closing. Hers was the absolute reliance of “the
perfect love which casteth out fear;” all that he did was right and
must be right in her eyes,—and when she saw how whole-heartedly
and eagerly Diana threw herself into the tedious and difficult work
he had put before her to do, she showed towards that hitherto
lonely and unloved woman a tenderness and consideration to which
for years she had been unaccustomed. Very naturally Diana
responded to this kindness with impulsive warmth and gratitude, and
took pleasure in performing little services, such as a daughter might
do, for the sweet-natured and gentle lady whose friendship and
sympathy she appreciated more and more each day. She loved to
help her in little household duties,—to mend an occasional tiny hole
in the fine old lace which Madame generally wore with her rich black
silk gowns,—to see that her arm-chair and foot-stool were placed
just as she liked them to be,—to wind the wool for her knitting, and
to make her laugh with some quaint or witty story. Diana was an
admirable raconteuse, and she had a wonderful memory,—moreover,
her impressions of persons and things were tinged with the gaiety of
a perceptive humour. Sometimes Dimitrius himself, returning from a
walk or from a drive in his small open auto-car, would find the two
sitting together by a cheerful log fire in the drawing-room, laughing
and chatting like two children, Diana busy with her embroidery, her
small, well-shaped, white hands moving swiftly and gracefully
among the fine wools from which she worked her “Jacobean”
designs, and his mother knitting comforts for the poor in preparation
for the winter which was beginning to make itself felt in keen airs
and gusts of snow. On one of these occasions he stood for some
minutes on the threshold, looking at them as they sat, their backs
turned towards him, so that they were not at once aware of his
presence. Diana’s head, crowned with its bright twists of hair, was
for the moment the chief object of his close attention,—he noted its
compact shape, and the line of the nape of the neck which carried it
—a singularly strong and perfect line, if judged by classic methods.
It denoted health and power, with something of pride,—and he
studied it anatomically and physiologically with all the interest of a
scholar. Suddenly she turned, and seeing him apparently waiting at
the door, smiled a greeting.
“Do you want me?” she asked.
He advanced into the room.
“Ought I to want you?” he counter-queried. “These are not working
hours! If you were a British workman such an idea as my wanting
you ‘out of time’ would never enter your head! As a British working
woman, you should stipulate for the same privileges as a British
working man.”
He drew a chair to the fire, and as his mother looked at him with
loving, welcoming eyes, he took her hand and kissed it.
“Winter is at hand,” he continued, giving a stir with the poker to the
blazing logs in the grate. “It is cold to-day—with the cold of the
glaciers, and I hear that the snow blocks all the mountain passes.
We are at the end of October—we must expect some bitter weather.
But in Switzerland the cold is dry and bracing—it strengthens the
nerves and muscles and improves the health. How do you stand a
severe winter, Miss May?”
“I have never thought about it,” she answered. “All seasons have
beauty for me, and I have never suffered very much by either the
cold or the heat. I think I have been more interested in other
things.”
He looked at her intently.
“What other things?”
She hesitated. A faint colour stole over her cheeks.
“Well,—I hardly know how to express it—things of life and death. I
have always been rather a suppressed sort of creature—with all my
aims and wishes pent up,—pressed into a bottle, as it were, and
corked tight!” She laughed, and went on. “Perhaps if the cork were
drawn there might be an explosion! But, wrongly or rightly, I have
judged myself as an atom of significance made insignificant by
circumstances and environment, and I have longed to make my
‘significance,’ however small, distinct and clear, even though it were
only a pin’s point of meaning. If I said this to ordinary people, they
would probably exclaim ‘How dull!’ and laugh at me for such an idea
——”
“Of course!—dull people would laugh,” agreed Dimitrius. “People in
the aggregate laugh at most things, except lack of money. That
makes them cry—if not outwardly, then inwardly. But I do not laugh,
—for if you can forget heat and cold and rough weather in the
dream of seeking to discover your own significance and meaning in
a universe where truly nothing exists without its set place and
purpose, you are a woman of originality as well as intelligence. But
that much of you I have already discovered.”
She glanced at him brightly.
“You are very kind!”
“Now do you mean that seriously or ironically?” he queried, with a
slight smile. “I am not really ‘very kind’—I consider myself very cruel
to have kept you chained for more than a month to rolls of vellum
inscribed with crabbed old Latin characters, illegible enough to
bewilder the strongest eyes. But you have done exceedingly well,—
and we have all three had time to know each other and to like each
other, so that a harmony between us is established. Yes—you have
done more than exceedingly well——”
“I am glad you are pleased,” said Diana, simply, resting one hand on
her embroidery frame and looking at him with somewhat tired,
anxious eyes. “I was rather hoping to see you this evening, though it
is, as you say, after working hours, for I wanted very much to tell
you that the manuscript I am now deciphering seems to call for your
own particular attention. I should prefer your reading it with me
before I go further.”
“You are very conscientious,” he said, fixing his eyes keenly upon her
—“Is she not, mother mine? She is afraid she will learn something
important and necessary to my work before I have a chance to study
it for myself. Loyal Miss Diana!”
Madame Dimitrius glanced wistfully from her son to Diana, and from
Diana back to her son again.
“Yes, she is loyal, Féodor! You have found a treasure in her,” she said
—“I am sure of it. It seems a providence that she came to us.”
“Is it not Shakespeare who says, ‘There’s a special providence in the
fall of a sparrow’?” he queried lightly. “How much more ‘special’ then
is the coming of a Diana!”
It was the first time he had used her Christian name without any
ceremonious prefix in her presence, and she was conscious of a thrill
of pleasure, for which she instantly reproached herself. “I have no
business to care what or how he calls me,” she thought. “He’s my
employer,—nothing more.”
“Diana,” repeated Dimitrius, watching her narrowly from under his
now half-shut eyelids. “Diana is a name fraught with beautiful
associations—the divine huntress—the goddess of the moon! Diana,
the fleet of foot—the lady of the silver bow! What poets’ dreams,
what delicate illusions, what lovely legends are clustered round the
name!”
She looked at him, half amused, half indifferent.
“Yes,—it is a thousand pities I was ever given such a name,” she
said. “If I were a Martha, a Deborah or a Sarah, it would suit me
much better. But Diana! It suggests a beautiful young woman——”
“You were young once!” he suggested, meaningly.
“Ah, yes, once!” and she sighed. “Once is a long time ago!”
“I never regret youth,” said Madame Dimitrius. “My age has been
much happier and more peaceful. I would not go back to my young
days.”
“That is because you have fulfilled your particular destiny,”
interposed her son,—“You fell in love with my father—what happy
times they must have been when the first glamour of attraction drew
you both to one another!—you married him,—and I am the result!
Dearest mother, there was nothing more for you to do, with your
devoted and gentle nature! You became the wife of a clever man,—
he died, having fulfilled his destiny in giving you—may I say so?—a
clever son,—myself! What more can any woman ask of ordinary
nature?”
He laughed gaily, and putting his arm round his mother, fondled her
as if she were a child.
“Yes, beloved!—you have done all your duty!” he went on. “But you
have sacrificed your own identity—the thing that Miss Diana calls her
‘significance.’ You lost that willingly when you married—all women
lose it when they marry:—and you have never quite found it again.
But you will find it! The slow process of evolution will make of you a
‘fine spirit’ when the husk of material life is cast off for wider
expansion.”
As he spoke, Diana looked at mother and son with the odd sense of
being an outside spectator of two entirely unconnected identities,—
the one overpowering and shadowing the other, but wholly unrelated
and more or less opposed in temperament. Madame Dimitrius was
distinguished by an air of soft and placid dignity, made sympathetic
by a delicate touch of lassitude indicative of age and a desire for
repose, while Féodor Dimitrius himself gave the impression of a
strong energy restrained and held within bounds as a spirited
charger is reined and held in by his rider, and, above all, of a man
aware of his own possibilities and full of set resolve to fulfil them.
“Is that embroidery of a very pressing nature?” he suddenly said,
then, with a smile. “Or do you think you could spare a few moments
away from it?”
She at once put aside her frame and rose.
“Did I not ask you when you came in if you wanted me?” she
queried. “Somehow I was quite sure you did! You know I am always
ready to serve you if I can.”
He still had one arm round his mother,—but he raised his eyes and
fixed them on Diana with an expression which was to her new and
strange.
“I know you are!” he said, slowly. “And I shall need your service in a
difficulty—very soon! But not just now. I have only a few things to
say which I think should not be put off till to-morrow. We’ll go into
the library and talk there.”
He bent down and kissed his mother’s snowy and still luxuriant hair,
adding for her benefit:
“We shall not be long, dearest of women! Keep warm and cosy by
the fire, and you will not care for the ‘significance’ of yourself so long
as you are loved! That is all some women ask for,—love.”
“Is it not enough?” said Diana, conscious of her own “asking” in that
direction.
“Enough? No!—not half or quarter enough! Not for some women or
some men—they demand more than this (and they have a right to
demand more) out of the infinite riches of the Universe, Love,—or
what is generally accepted under that name, is a mere temporary
physical attraction between two persons of opposite sex, which
lessens with time as it is bound to lessen because of the higher
claims made on the soul,—a painful thing to realise!—but we must
not shiver away from truth like a child shivering away from its first
dip in the sea, or be afraid of it. Lovers forget lovers, friends forget
friends, husbands forget wives and vice versa,—the closest ties are
constantly severed——”
“You are wrong, Féodor—we do not forget!” said Madame Dimitrius,
with tender reproach in her accents. “I do not forget your father—he
is dear to me as lover and husband still. And whether God shall
please to send my soul to heaven or to hell, I could never forget my
love for you!”
“Beloved, I know!—I feel all you say—but you are an exception to
the majority—and we will not talk personalities! I cannot”—here he
laughed and kissed her hand again—“I cannot have my theories
upset by a petite Maman!”
He left the room then and Diana followed him. Once in the library he
shut the door and locked it.
“Now you spoke of something in your translations that seemed to
call for my attention,” he said. “I am ready to hear what it is.”
Diana went to the table desk where she habitually worked, and took
up some pages of manuscript, neatly fastened together in readable
form.
“It is a curious subject,” she said. “In the Assyrian originals it seems
to have been called ‘The problem of the Fourth, Sixth and Seventh,
culminating in the Eighth.’ Whether the Latin rendering truly follows
the ancient script, it is, of course, impossible to say,—but while
deciphering the Latin, I came to the conclusion that the Fourth, Sixth
and Seventh were named in the problem as ‘rays’ or ‘tones’ of light,
and the proposed culmination of the Eighth——”
“Stop!” exclaimed Dimitrius, in a strained, eager voice. “Give me
your papers!—let me see!”
She handed them to him at once, and he sat down to read. While he
was thus occupied, her gaze constantly wandered to the small,
scythe-like instrument mowing off the seconds in dots of flame as a
mower sweeps off the heads of daisies in the grass. A curious
crimson colour seemed to be diffused round the whole piece of
mechanism,—an effect she had never noticed before, and then she
remembered it was late in the afternoon and that the sun had set.
The rosy light emanating from the instrument and deeply reflected in
the crystal pedestal on which it was balanced, seemed like an after-
glow from the sky,—but the actual grey twilight outside was too
pronounced and cold to admit of such an explanation.
Suddenly Dimitrius looked up.
“You are right!” he said. “This ancient problem demands my closest
study. And yet it is no problem at all, but only an exposition of my
inmost thought!” He paused,—then: “Come here, Diana May!” he
continued—“I may as well begin with you. Come and sit close beside
me.”
She obeyed. With his eyes fixed upon her face, he went on:
“You, as a woman of superior intelligence, have never supposed, I
am sure, that I have secured your services merely to decipher and
copy out old Latin script? No!—I see by your look that you have fully
realised that such is not all the actual need I have of you. I have
waited to find out, by a study of your character and temperament,
when and how I could state plainly my demands. I think I need not
wait much longer. Now this ancient treatise on ‘Problems,’ obscure
and involved in wording as it is, helps me to the conviction that I am
on the right track of discovery. It treats of Light. ‘The problem of the
Fourth, Sixth and Seventh,’ with its ‘ultimate culmination of the
Eighth’ is the clue. In that ‘ultimate culmination’ is the Great Secret!”
His eyes flashed,—his features were transfigured by an inward
fervour.
“Have the patience to follow me but a little,” he continued. “You
have sense and ability and you can decipher a meaning from an
apparent chaos of words. Consider, then, that within the limitations
of this rolling ball, the earth, we are permitted to recognise seven
tones of music and seven tones of colour. The existing numbers of
the creative sum, so far as we can count them, are Seven and Five,
which added together make Twelve, itself a ‘creative’ number. Man
recognises in himself Five Senses, Touch, Taste, Sight, Hearing,
Smell—but as a matter of fact he has Seven, for he should include
Intuition and Instinct, which are more important than all the others
as the means of communicating with his surroundings. Now ‘the
culmination of the Eighth’ is neither Five nor Seven nor Twelve,—it is
the close or rebound of the Octave—the end of the leading Seven—
the point where a fresh Seven begins. It is enough for humanity to
have arrived at this for the present—for we have not yet sounded
the heights or depths of even the first Seven radiations which we all
agree to recognise. We admit seven tones of music, and seven tones
of colour, but what of our seven rays of light? We have the ‘violet
ray,’ the ‘X ray’—and a newly discovered ray showing the working
bodily organism of man,—but there are Seven Rays piercing the
density of ether, which are intended for the use and benefit of the
human being, and which are closely connected with his personality,
his needs and his life. Seven Rays!—and it is for us to prove and test
them all!—which is the very problem you have brought to my notice
in this old Latin document: ‘the Fourth, Sixth and Seventh,
culminating in the Eighth.’”
He put the papers carefully together on the table beside him, and
turned to Diana.
“You have understood me?”
She bent her head.
“Perfectly!”
“You recall the incidents of the first day of your arrival here?—your
brief visit to my laboratory, and what you saw there?”
She smiled.
“Do you think I could ever forget?”
“Well!—that being so I do not see why I should wait,” he said,
musingly, and speaking more to himself than to her. “There is no
reason why I should not begin at once the task which is bound to be
long and difficult! My ‘subject’ is at my disposal—I am free to
operate!”
He rose and went to an iron-bound cabinet which he unlocked and
took from thence a small phial containing what appeared to be a
glittering globule like an unset jewel, which moved restlessly to and
fro in its glass prison. He held it up before her eyes.
“Suppose I ask you to swallow this?” he said.
For all answer, she stretched out her hand to take the phial. He
laughed.
“Upon my word, you are either very brave or very reckless!” he
exclaimed—“I hardly know what to think of you! But you shall not be
deceived. This is a single drop of the liquid you saw in process of
distillation within its locked-up cell,—it has a potent, ay, a terrific
force and may cause you to swoon. On the other hand it may have
quite the contrary effect. It should re-vivify—it may disintegrate,—
but I cannot guarantee its action. I know its composition, but, mark
you!—I have never tested it on any human creature. I cannot try it
on myself—for if it robbed me of my capacity to work, I have no one
to carry on my researches,—and I would not try it on my mother,—
she is too old, and her life is too precious to me——”
“Well, my life is precious to nobody,” said Diana, calmly. “Not even to
myself. Shall I take your ‘little dram’ now?”
Dimitrius looked at her in amazement that was almost admiration.
“If you would rather wait a few days, or even weeks longer, do so,”
he answered. “I will not persuade you to any act of this kind in a
hurry. For it is only the first test of many to come.”
“And if I survive the first I shall be good for the last,” said Diana,
merrily. “So come, Doctor Féodor!—give me the mysterious ‘drop’ of
liquid fire!”
Her face was bright with animation and courage—but his grew pale
and haggard with sudden fear. As he still hesitated, she sprang up
and took the phial from his hand.
“Diana! Let me hold you!” he cried, in real agitation—and he caught
her firmly round the waist—“Believe me—there is danger!——But—if
you will——”
“One, two, three, and away!” said she, and taking the tiny glass
stopper from the phial she swallowed its contents.
“One, two, three, and away!” it was, indeed!—for she felt herself
whirled off into a strange, dark, slippery vortex of murderous cold—
which suddenly changed to blazing heat—then again to cold,—she
saw giant pinnacles of ice, and enormous clouds of flame rolling
upon her as from a burning sky—then, she seemed to be flying
along over black chasms and striving to escape from a whirlwind
which enveloped her as though she were a leaf in a storm,—till at
last no thought, no personal consciousness remained to her, and,
giving up all resistance, she allowed herself to fall,—down, down
ever so far!—when, all at once a vital freshness and elasticity
possessed her as though she had been suddenly endowed with
wings, and she came to herself standing upright as before, with
Dimitrius holding her in the strong grasp of one arm.
“Well!” she said, aware that she trembled violently, but otherwise not
afraid: “It wasn’t bad! Not much taste about it!”
She saw that he was deadly pale—his eyes were misty with
something like tears in them.
“You brave woman!” he said, in a low tone—“You daring soul!—But—
are you sure you are all right?—Can you stand alone?”
She drew away from his hold.
“Of course! Firm as a rock!”
He looked at her wonderingly,—almost with a kind of terror.
“Thank God!” he murmured—“thank God I have not killed you! If I
had——!”
He dropped into a chair and buried his face in his hands.
Still trembling a little as she was, she felt deeply touched by his
evident emotion, and with that sudden, new and surprising sense of
lightness and buoyancy upon her she ran to him and impulsively
knelt down beside him.
“Don’t think of it, please!” she said, entreatingly, her always sweet
voice striking a soothing note on the air—“Don’t worry! All is well!
I’m as alive as I can be. If you had killed me I quite understand you
would have been very sorry,—but it really wouldn’t have mattered—
in the interests of science! The only trouble for you would have been
to get rid of my body,—bodies are always such a nuisance! But with
all your knowledge I daresay you could have ground me into a little
heap of dust!” And she laughed, quite merrily. “Please don’t sit in
such an attitude of despair!—you’re not half cold-hearted enough for
a scientist!”
He raised his head and looked at her.
“That’s true!” he said, and smiled. “But—I wonder what has made
you the strange woman you are? No fear of the unknown!—No
hesitation, even when death might be the result of your daring,—
surely there never was one of your sex like you!”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure there have been, and are many!” she answered,
rising from her knees, and smiling in cheerful response to his
happier expression: “Women are queer things!—and there’s a part of
their ‘queerness’ which men never understand. When they’ve lost
everything—I mean everything which they, with their particular
nature and sentiment, regard as precious, the chief of these being
love, which you don’t think matters much to anybody, they get
reckless. Some of them take to drink—others to drugs—others to
preaching in the streets—others to an openly bad life,—or to any
crooked paths leading away and as far as possible from their spoilt
womanhood. Men are to blame for it,—entirely to blame for treating
them as toys instead of as friends—men are like children who break
the toys they have done with. And a woman who has been broken in
this way has ‘no fear of the unknown’ because the known is bad
enough,—and she does not ‘hesitate to face death,’ being sure it
cannot be worse than life. At any rate, that’s how I feel—or, rather,
how I have felt;—just now I’m extraordinarily glad to be alive!”
“That is because you are conscious of a narrow escape,” he said,
with a keen glance at her. “Isn’t it so?”
She considered for a moment.
“No, I don’t believe it is!” she replied. “It’s something quite different
to that. I’m not in the least aware that I’ve had a narrow escape!—
but I do know that I feel as happy as a schoolgirl out for her first
holiday! That’s rather an odd sensation for a woman ‘of mature
years!’ Oh, I know what it is! It’s the globule!”
She laughed, and clapped her hands.
“That’s it! Doctor, you may thank your stars that your first test has
succeeded! Here I am, living!—and something is dancing about in
my veins like a new sort of air and a new sort of sunshine! It’s a
lovely feeling!”
He rose from the chair where he had thrown himself in his
momentary dejection, and approaching her, took her hand and laid
his fingers on her pulse. He had entirely recovered his usual air of
settled and more or less grave composure.
“Yes,” he said, after a pause, “your pulse is firmer—and younger. So
far, so good! Now, obey me. Go and lie down in your own room for a
couple of hours. Sleep, if you can,—but, at any rate, keep in a
recumbent position. You have a charming view from your windows,
—and even in a grey autumn twilight like this, there is something
soothing in the sight of the Alpine snow-line. Rest absolutely quiet
till dinner time. And—afterwards—you will tell me how you feel,—or,
rather, I shall be able to judge for myself.” He released her hand, but
before doing so, kissed it with a Russian’s usual courtesy. “I repeat,
—you are a brave woman!—as brave as any philosopher that ever
swallowed hemlock! And, if your courage holds out sufficiently to
endure the whole of my experiment, I shall owe you the triumph and
gratitude of a life-time!”
 CHAPTER XII
Once in her own pretty suite of rooms, Diana locked the door of the
entresol, so that no one might enter by chance. She wished to be
alone that she might collect her thoughts and meditate on the
“narrow escape” which she had experienced without actually
realising any danger. Her sitting-room was grey with the creeping
twilight, and she went to the window and opened it, leaning out to
breathe the snowy chillness of the air which came direct from the
scarcely visible mountains. A single pale star twinkled through the
misty atmosphere, and the stillness of approaching night had in it a
certain heaviness and depression. With arms folded on the window-
sill she looked as far as her eyes could see—far enough to discern
the glimmering white of the Savoy Alps which at the moment
presented merely an outline, as of foam on the lip of a wave. After a
few minutes she drew back and shut the window, pulling the warm
tapestry curtains across it, and pressing the button which flooded
her room with softly-shaded electric light. Then she remembered—
she had been told to rest in a recumbent position, so, in obedience
to this order she lay down on the comfortable sofa provided for her
use, stretching herself out indolently with a sense of delightful ease.
She was not at all in a “lazing” mood, and though she tried to go to
sleep she could not.
“I’m broad awake,” she said to herself. “And I want to think! It isn’t a
case of ‘mustn’t think’ now—I feel I must think!”
And the first phase of her mental effort was her usual one of
“wonder.” Why had she so much confidence in Dimitrius? How was it
that she was quite ready to sacrifice herself to his “experiment”?
“It seems odd,” she argued—“and yet, it isn’t. Because the fact is
plain that I have nothing to live for. If I had any hope of ever being a
‘somebody’ or of doing anything really useful of course I should care
for my life, but, to be quite honest with myself, I know I’m of no use
to anyone, except to—him! And I’m getting a thousand a year and
food and a home—a lovely home!—so why shouldn’t I trust him? If—
in the end—his experiment kills me—as he seemed to think it might,
just now—well!—one can only die once!—and so far as the
indifferent folks at home know or believe, I’m dead already!”
She laughed, and nestled her head cosily back on the silken sofa-
cushions. “Oh, I’m all right, I’m sure! Whatever happens will be for
the best. I’m certainly not afraid. And I feel so well!”
She closed her eyes—then opened them again, like a child who has
been told to go to sleep and who gives a mischievous bright glance
at its nurse to show that it is wide awake. Moving one little slim foot
after the other she looked disapprovingly at her shoes.
“Ugly things!” she said. “They were bought in the Devonshire village
—flat and easy to get about the house with—suitable for a
housekeeping woman ‘of mature years!’ I don’t like them now! They
don’t seem to suit my feet at all! If I had really ‘turned up my toes
to the daisies’ when I swallowed that mysterious globule these shoes
would not have added to the grace of my exit!”
Amused at herself she let her thoughts wander as they would—and
it was curious how they flew about like butterflies settling only on
the brightest flowers of fancy. She had grown into a habit of never
looking forward to anything—but just now she found herself keenly
anticipating a promised trip to Davos during the winter, whither she
was to accompany Dimitrius and his mother. She was a graceful
skater—and a skating costume seemed suggested—why not send
her measurements to Paris and get the latest? A pleasant vision of
rich, royal blue cloth trimmed with dark fur flitted before her—then
she fancied she could hear her father’s rasping voice remarking:
“Choose something strong and serviceable—linsey-woolsey or stuff
of that kind—your mother used to buy linsey-woolsey for her
petticoats, and they never wore out. You should get that sort of
material—never mind how it looks!—only very young people go in
for mere fashion!”
She indulged in a soft little giggle of mirth at this reminiscence of
“Pa,” and then with another stretch out of her body, and a sense of
warmest, deepest comfort, she did fall asleep at last—a sleep as
sweet and dreamless as that of a child.
She was roused by a knocking at the door of the entresol, and
sprang up, remembering she had locked it. Running to open it, she
found the femme-de-chambre, Rose, standing outside.
“I am so sorry to disturb Madame,” said the girl, smiling. “But there
is only now a quarter of an hour to dinnertime, and Monsieur
Dimitrius sent me to tell you this, in case you were asleep.”
“I was asleep!” and Diana twisted up a tress of her hair which had
become loosened during her slumber. “How dreadfully lazy of me!
Thank you, Rose! I won’t be ten minutes dressing.”
While she spoke she noticed that Rose looked at her very curiously
and intently, but made no remark. Passing into the rooms, the maid
performed her usual duties of drawing blinds, closing shutters and
turning on the electric lights in the bedroom,—then, before going,
she said:
“Sleep is a great restorer, Madame! You look so much better for an
afternoon’s rest!”
With that she retired,—and Diana hurried her toilette. She was in
such haste to get out of her daily working garb into a “rest gown”
that she never looked in the mirror till she began to arrange her hair,
and then she became suddenly conscious of an alteration in herself
that surprised her. What was it? It was very slight—almost too subtle
to be defined,—and she could not in the least imagine where the
change had occurred, but there was undoubtedly a difference
between the face that had looked at her from that same mirror some
hours previously and the one that looked at her now. It was no more
than the lightest touch given by some great painter’s brush to a
portrait—a touch which improves and “lifts” the whole expression.
However, she had no time to wait and study the mystery,—minutes
were flying, and the silver arrow of the warning dial pointed to the
figure eight, and its attendant word “Dinner.” Even as she looked,
the chime struck the hour,—so she almost jumped into a gown of
pale blue, chosen because it was easy to put on, and pinning a few
roses from one of the vases in her room among the lace at her neck,
she ran downstairs just in time to see Dimitrius taking his mother on
his arm, as he always did when there were no guests, into the
dining-room. She followed quickly with the murmured apology:
“I’m so sorry to be late!”
“Never mind, my dear,” said Madame Dimitrius. “Féodor tells me you
have had some hard work to do, and that he wished you to rest. I
hope you slept?”
But, as she put the question, her eyes opened widely in a sudden
expression of wonderment, and she gazed at Diana as though she
were something very strange and new.
“Yes, she must have slept, I think,” put in Dimitrius quietly and with
marked emphasis. “She looks thoroughly rested.”
But Madame Dimitrius was still preoccupied by thoughts that
bewildered her. She could hardly restrain herself while the servant
Vasho was in the room, and the moment he left it to change the
courses, she began:
“Féodor, don’t you see a great difference——”
He made her a slight warning sign.
“Dear Mother, let us defer questions till after dinner! Miss Diana! To
your health!” And he held up his glass of champagne towards her.
“You are looking remarkably well!—and both my mother and I are
glad that the air of Switzerland agrees with you!”
Half pleased, half puzzled, Diana smiled her recognition of the
friendly toast, but in her own mind, wondered what it all meant?
Why did dear old Madame Dimitrius stare at her so much? Why did
even Vasho, the negro servant, roll the whites of his eyes at her as
though she were somebody he had never seen before? And taking
these things into account, why did Dimitrius himself maintain such
an indifferent and uninterested demeanour?
Nevertheless, whatever the circumstances might portend, she was
more disposed to mirth than gravity, and the delicious timbre of her
voice made music at table, both in speaking and laughter,—the
music of mingled wit and eloquence, rare enough in a man, but still
rarer in a woman. Very few women have the art of conversing
intelligently, and at a dinner nowadays the chief idea seems to be to
keep on “safe” ground, avoiding every subject of any real interest.
But Diana was not particular in this regard,—she talked, and talked
well. On this evening she seemed to throw herself with greater zest
into the always for her congenial task of keeping her mysterious
“employer” and his mother amused,—and Dimitrius himself began to
feel something of the glamour of a woman’s fascination against
which he had always been as he boasted—“spirit-proof.” His was a
curious and complex nature. For years and years, ever since his
early boyhood, he had devoted himself to the indefatigable study of
such arts and sciences as are even now regarded as only “possible,”
but “non-proven,”—and he had cut himself off from all the ordinary
ambitions as well as from the social customs and conventions of the
world, in order to follow up a certain clue which his researches had
placed in his hands. Though his ultimate intention was to benefit
humanity he was so fearful of miscalculating one line of the
mathematical problem he sought to solve, that for the time being,
humanity weighed as nothing in his scale. He would admit of no
obstacle in his path, and though he was not a cruel man, if he had
found that he would need a hundred human “subjects” to work
upon, he would have killed them all without compunction, had killing
been necessary to the success of his experiments. And yet,—he had
a heart, which occasionally gave him trouble as contending with his
brain,—for the brain was cool and calculating, and the heart was
warm and impulsive. He had never actually shunned women,
because they too, as well as men, were needful points of study,—but
most of the many he had met incurred his dislike or derision because
of what he considered their unsettled fancies and general
“vagueness.” His mother he adored; but to no other woman had he
ever accorded an atom of really deep or well-considered homage.
When he advertised for a woman to help him in his experimental
work, he did so, honestly because he judged a woman, especially “of
mature years,” was of no particular use to anybody, or, if she did
happen to be of use, she could easily be replaced. With an almost
brutal frankness, he had said to himself: “If the experiment I make
upon her should prove fatal, she will be the kind of human unit that
is never missed.”
But Diana was an unexpected sort of “unit.” Her independence, clear
perception and courage were a surprise to him. Her “mature years”
did not conceal from him the fact that she had once been charming
to look at,—and one point about her which gave him especial
pleasure was her complete resignation of any idea that she could
have attraction for men at her age. He knew how loth even the
oldest women are to let go this inborn notion of captivating or
subjugating the male sex,—but Diana was wholesomely free from
any touch of the “volatile spinster,”—and unlike the immortal Miss
Tox in “Dombey and Son,” was not in the least prone to indulge in a
dream of marriage with the first man who might pay her a kindly
compliment. And his dread of the possible result of his first
experimental essay upon her was perfectly genuine, while his relief
at finding her none the worse for it was equally sincere. Looking at
her now, and listening to her bright talk and to the soft ripple of her
low, sweet laughter, his thoughts were very busy. She was his
“subject;” a living subject bound by her signed agreement to be
under his command and as much at his disposal as a corpse given
over for anatomical purposes to a surgeon’s laboratory. He did not
propose to have any pity upon her, even if at any time her condition
should call for pity. His experiment must be carried out at all costs.
He did not intend to have any more “heart” for her than the
vivisector has for the poor animal whose throbbing organs he
mercilessly probes;—but to-night he was conscious of a certain
attraction about her for which he was not prepared. He was in a
sense relieved when dinner was over, and when she and his mother
left the room. As soon as they had gone he addressed Vasho:
“Did you see?”
The negro inclined his head, and his black lips parted in a smile.
“It is the beginning!” said Dimitrius, meditatively. “But the end is far
off!”
Vasho made rapid signs with his fingers in the dumb alphabet. His
words were:
“The Master will perhaps be over-mastered!”
Dimitrius laughed, and patted the man kindly on the shoulder.
“Vasho, you are an oracle! How fortunate you are dumb! But your
ears are keen,—keep them open!”
Vasho nodded emphatically, and with his right hand touched his
forehead and then his feet, signifying that from head to foot he was
faithful to duty.
And Dimitrius thereupon went into the drawing-room, there to find
Diana seated on a low stool beside his mother’s chair, talking
animatedly about their intended visit to Davos Platz. Madame
Dimitrius instantly assailed him with the question she had previously
started at dinner.
“Féodor, you put me off just now,” she said, “but you really must tell
me if you see any change in Diana! Look at her!”—and she put one
hand under Diana’s chin and turned her face more up to the light
—“Isn’t there a very remarkable alteration in her?”
Dimitrius smiled.
“Well, no!—not a very remarkable one,” he answered, with affected
indifference. “A slight one,—certainly for the better. All doctors agree
in the opinion that it is only after a month or two in a different
climate that one begins to notice an improvement in health and
looks——”
“Nonsense!” interrupted his mother, with a slight touch of
impatience. “It’s not that sort of thing at all! It’s something quite
different!”
“Well, what is it?” laughed Diana. “Dear, kind Madame Dimitrius!—
you always see something nice in me!—which is very flattering but
which I don’t deserve! You are getting used to my appearance—
that’s all!”
“You are both in league against me!” declared the old lady, shaking
her head. “Féodor knows and you know that you are quite different!
—I mean that you have a different expression—I don’t know what it
is——”
“I’m sure I don’t!” Diana said, still laughing. “I feel very well and
very happy—much better than I have felt for a long time—and of
course if one feels well one looks well——”
“Did you feel as well and happy a few hours ago, when you left me
to go and do some work for Féodor?” asked Madame. “You did not
look then as you look now!”
Diana glanced at Dimitrius questioningly, mutely asking what she
should say next. He gave her a reassuring smile.
“You are like a Grand Inquisitor, mother mine!” he said. “And sharp
as a needle in your scrutiny! Perhaps you are right!—Miss May is a
little altered. In fact I think I may acknowledge and admit the fact—
but I’m sure it is so slight a change that she has scarcely noticed it
herself. And when she has retired and gone to bed, you and I will
have a little private talk about it. Will that satisfy you?”
She looked at him trustfully and with a great tenderness.
“I am not unsatisfied even now, my son!” she answered, gently—“I
am only curious! I am like the lady in the fairy tale of ‘Blue Beard’—I
want to unlock your cupboard of mystery! And you won’t cut my
head off for that, will you?”
He laughed.
“I would sooner cut off my own!” he said, gaily. “Be sure of that! You
shall know all that is needful, in good time! Meanwhile, Miss Diana
had better leave us for the present”—Diana at once rose and came
towards him to say good-night—“I hope I am not giving you too
abrupt a dismissal,” he added, “but I think, under the circumstances,
you should get all the rest you can.”
She bent her head in mute obedience, thanking him with a smile. As
she turned with a softly breathed “good-night” to Madame Dimitrius,
the old lady drew her close and kissed her.
“Bless you, my dear!” she said. “If you change in your looks, do not
change in your heart!”
“That can hardly be guaranteed,” said Dimitrius.
Diana looked at him.
“Can it not? But I will be my own guarantee,” she said. “I shall not
change—not in love for my friends. Good-night!”
As she left the room they both looked after her,—her figure had a
supple, swaying grace of movement which was new and attractive,
and in an impulse of something not unlike fear, Madame Dimitrius
laid her hand entreatingly on her son’s arm.
“What have you done to her, Féodor? What are you doing?”
His eyes glittered with a kind of suppressed menace.
“Nothing!” he answered. “Nothing, as yet! What I shall do is another
matter! I have begun—and I cannot stop. She is my subject,—I am
like that old-world painter, who, in sheer devotion to his art, gave a
slave poison, in order that he might be able to watch him die and so
paint a death-agony accurately.”
“Féodor!” She gave a little cry of terror.
“Do not be afraid, mother mine! My task is an agony of birth—not
death!—the travail of a soul reconstituting the atoms of its earthly
habitation,—recharging with energy the cells of its brain—the work
of a unit whose house of clay is beginning to crumble, and to whom
I give the material wherewith to build it up again! It all depends, of
course, on the unit’s own ability,—if you break a spider’s web, the
mending of it depends on the spider’s industry, tenacity and
constructive intelligence,—but, whatever happens, mark you!—
whatever happens, I have begun my experiment, and I must go on!
I must go on to the very end,—no matter what that end may be!”
She looked at him in wonder and appeal.
“You will not,—you cannot be cruel, Féodor?” she said, in a voice
which trembled with suppressed alarm. “You will not injure the poor
woman who works for you so patiently, and who trusts you?”
“How can I tell whether I shall or shall not injure her?” he
demanded, almost fiercely. “Science accepts no half service. The
‘poor woman,’ as you call her, knows her risks and has accepted
them. So far, no injury has been done. If I succeed, she will have
cause to thank me for the secret I have wrenched from Nature,—
should I fail, she will not complain very much of a little more hurried
exit from a world, where, according to her own statement, she is
alone and unloved.”
Madame Dimitrius clasped and unclasped her delicate old hands
nervously, and the diamonds in a ring she wore glittered scarcely
more than the bright tears which suddenly fell from her eyes. Moved
by a pang of remorse, he fell on his knees beside her.
“Why, mother!” he murmured, soothingly—“you should not weep!
Can you not trust me? This woman, Diana May, is a stranger, and
nothing to you. Certainly she is a kind, bright creature, with a great
many undeveloped gifts of brain and character, which make her all
the more useful to me. I give her as much chance as I give myself.
If I let her alone,—that is to say, if I ignore all the reasons for which
I engaged her, and allow her to become a mere secretary, or your
domestic companion,—she goes on in the usual way of a woman of
her years,—withering slowly—sinking deeper in the ruts of care, and
fading into a nonentity for whom life is scarcely worth the living. On
the other hand, if I continue my work upon her——”
“But what work?” asked his mother, anxiously. “What result do you
expect?”
He rose from his kneeling attitude, and straightened himself to his
full height, lifting his head with an unconscious air of defiance and
pride.
“I expect Nature to render me obedience!” he said. “I expect the
surrender of the Flaming Sword! It ‘turns every way to keep the way
of the Tree of Life’—but the hilt must be given into my hand!”
“Féodor! Oh, my son! Such arrogance is blasphemy!”
“Blasphemy? Mother, you wrong yourself and me by the thought!
Blasphemy is a lie to God, like the utterance of the ‘Credo’ by people
who do not believe,—but there is no blasphemy in searching for a
truth as part of God’s mind, and devoutly accepting it when found!
The priest who tells his congregation that God is to be pleased or
pacified by sufficient money in the collection plate blasphemes,—but
I who most humbly adore His unspeakable Beneficence in placing
the means of health and life in our hands, and who seek to use
those means intelligently, do not blaspheme! I praise God with all
my heart,—I believe in Him with all my soul!”
His attitude at the moment was superb; his expression as of one
inspired. His mother looked at him fondly, but the tears were still in
her eyes.
“Féodor,” she said at last tremulously—“I—I have grown fond of
Diana. I shall not be able to look on and see her suffer!”
He bent his brows upon her almost sternly.
“When you do see her suffer it will be time to speak”—he answered
—“Not before! And whatever else you see, having no connection
with ‘suffering’ in any way, you must allow to pass without comment
or inquiry. You love me, I know,—well, you will never prove your love
for me more than by consenting to this. If at any moment you can
tell me that Diana May is unhappy or in pain, I promise you I will do
my best to spare her. But if nothing of this sort happens I rely on
your silence and discretion. May I do so?”
She inclined her head gently.
“You may!”
He took her hand and kissed its soft, finely wrinkled whiteness.
“That’s my kind mother!” he said, tenderly—“Always indulgent to me
and my fancies as you have been, I know you will not fail me now!
And so,—whatever change you observe or think you observe in my
‘subject,’ you must accept it as perfectly natural (for it will be) and
not surprising or disturbing. And you must tactfully check the
comments and questions of others. I foresee that Chauvet will be
tiresome,—he has taken a great fancy to Diana. And Farnese, of
course, is a perpetual note of interrogation. But these people must
be kept at a distance. You have grown fond of Diana, you say,—fond
of this complete stranger in our house!—but I am glad of it, for she
needs some sort of tenderness in a life which seems to have been
exceptionally lonely. Grow still fonder of her, if you like!—indeed, it is
probable you will. For though she is anything but a child, she has all
a child’s affection in her which apparently has been wasted, or has
met with scant return.”
“You think so?” And Madame Dimitrius looked up with a smile.
“I do think so, assuredly, but because I think so it does not follow
that any return can come from me,” he said. “You are a person of
sentiment—I am not. You are the one to supply her with the manna
which falls from the heaven of a loving heart. And by doing so you
will help my experiment.”
“You will not tell me what the experiment really is?” she asked.
“No. Because, if it fails I prefer to ridicule myself rather than that
you should ridicule me. And if I succeed the whole value of my
discovery consists in keeping it secret.”
“Very well!” And his mother rose and put away her knitting. “You
shall do as you will, Féodor!—you were always a spoilt boy and you
will be spoilt to the end! My fault, I know!”
“Yes, your fault, beloved!” he said—“But a fault of instinctive
knowledge and wisdom! For if you had not let me follow my own
way I might not have stumbled by chance on another way—a way
which leads——”
He broke off abruptly with a wonderful “uplifted” look in his eyes.
She came to him and laid her gentle hands upon his shoulders.
“A way which leads—where, my Féodor? Tell me!”
He drew her hands down and held them warmly clasped together in
his.
“The way to that ‘new heaven and new earth’ where God is with
men!” he answered, in a low, rapt tone—“‘Where there shall be no
more death, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain,’ and
where ‘the former things are passed away!’ Be patient with my
dream! It may come true!”