Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1855-03-16
EVENING STAR,
I He Low CURE.
A Sketch frcm Life.
BY OUR FAMILY PHYSICIAN

plants, and travelling north one summer
fer health and rest, l stopped for q few
weeks at beautiful little village near
the St. Lawrence where | was somewhat
known.
had only been in the village two DAYS
when | was called to see the Young
daughter OF wealthy farmer bv the
name of Summer.
Ida Summer had been the belle of the
county, and Though only seventeen, her
marvellous beauty had already kindlsd
quenchless fire in the heart Of many
suitor TO her favor. Frank, confiding
and at once playful and modest, arch vet
innocent, full of wild spirits, yet utterly
devoid of cOquetry--to see her was to
love her.
found the peerless girl, whom / had
| remembered from the summer before as
buoyant and rosy with health, pale and
wan as summer cloud and apparently
in the last and closing stages Of 4 deep
decline.
A careful investigation into the state
of her lungs convinced me that hers was
mental rather than a physical con.
sumption. studied her case carefully,
watched the various expressions of her
speaking face, and at last came 10 the
conclusion that her malady was one O.
the heart.
Of unrequited affection! could not
think that-beautiful and good as she
was. The case was difficult one. Ten.
derly AID gently probed every sound.
ing, but could arrive at no conclusion.
Thus much l discovered-that she DOS.
sessed no particular regard for any one
OF the youths far or near, whose name I
could get hold of. And notwithstand.
ing all my efforts she seemed rapidly
declining.
L made minute inquiry into her past
life; but cautiously, as not to let my mo-
tives be apparent. learned that she
! had spent few weeks of the winter pre.
ceding with an intimate friend in an ad
! joining town, and from that time had
! begun to fade.
10 that town | repaired; but by closest
! inquiry could ascertain nothing. To all
alike she had been friendly, but nothing
! more.
The clergyman of the church which
she had attended was young man,
but one given to study and seclusion
She had consequently seen nothing
| OF him except in the pulpit. | had
made a pretext to call on him, and
found him man altogether made after
the model of what might be the highest
aspirations of woman s heart, In fact,
| all the unengaged young ladies of his
parish were well nigh crazy about him.
But to all he accorded nothing but
friendly greeting and leaving them all,
sought the privacy of his own study.
lie was eminently handsome, and add.
ed to his tall, manly form and beautiful
ly cliseled features. he possessed a be.
nignity Of expression that was nearly
divine.
| had much conversation with him,
and, among other things, casually men,
toned Ida Summer and her evidently dy-
ing state, enlarging somewhat on her
beauty and goodness.
His color deepened somewhat as he as.
sented to my remarks, and expressed his
own regrets at her untimely fate; but
otherwise he manifested no emotion.
| remarked, before left him, that it
was time for him to give his pretty par.
sOnage mistress.
e. may many years from now," re-
piled he with sudden and deepening
sadness; " but | early learned to dis
trust the disinterested and abiding affec-
ton of our modern young women. If /
marry shall probably harry late in
life.
A fallacy, take my word for it, Mr..
Stuart. Our modern women, some of
them, are as fond and true as any of the
danes of old. The thing is to find the
right one" And thus saying. l babe
him good morning.
On my return | found my patient
rather lower than left her.
told her had been to the village Of
-. Suddenly y and tumultuously the
warm blood rushed up to her bosom and
her face, and she looked at me with her
soft inquiriDg eyes.
told her of her friends, and casually
mentioned the name of the young cler-
gyman, Robert Stuart.
TO her clear, blue.veined temples the
same truant blood sped with fearful
force.
l had seen enough. | knew her dis
ease, and most probably its remedy. i
instantly wrote note to Mr., Stuart,
merely saying:
"If you would save life, lose not
moment in fastening to -, 1.-THE name
of the town. will await you at my
lodgings"
l signed my name, and dispatched it
by private messenger.
Sooner than l expected, the young cler-
gyman was at my hotel. had prepared
Ida for conversation with a clergyman,
specifying, however, no one in particu-
lar.
| led him to her chamber, saw her
blush and start of joy and modesty.
What then and there transpired, no
one but the great searcher of hearts and
the two Of bis choicest handiwork thus
brought topether-a diving girl and a