The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1866-07-21

the snowy, dropping lids. My patient
was evidently nervcd up to intense
quetude. Not a muscle quivercd the
mouth was resolutely set, the hands
tightly claspcd, the whole frame still
and rigid as stone, as she obeyed my
finger and opened the large black eyes
yet in their strained eagerness l read
the hope i was to bless or crush. drew |
the small head down upon my arm, and
bent over my task. AS short as possible
/ made the suspense, and my own heart
thrilled with glad rapture rs ! softly
closed the blinded eyes, and said, gen.
tly: "You may hope to see again"
She had been so unnaturally still that
l was not unprepared for the long, quiv-
ering sob and burst of passionate tears
which followed my words. 1t is one of
the holy privileges of my profession to
have the power to soOthc and comfort as
we'll as heal, and never had my hands
tried gentler caresses, my voice more
fatherly tenderness, than when l
smoothed the glossy bands of Clara
Towards hair, and spoke words of hope
and encouragement to still her wild
sobs.
Two days later performed the oper-
alton which l prayed would give my
darling sight. My darling? Older than
herself by twenty long years, ugly in
feature, tall and awkward in form, wild
owed and bereaved, was allowing my
whole hearts passion to pour itself out
for my new patient. Every hour of in
tercoursc bound my love more closely to
her till knew that the whole happiness
or misery of my future life depended
upon gaining or losing the precious treas
ure of her love.
1t was not necessary for me to see her
every day, yet my horse stopped before
Mrs. Gilroy's in each mornings round,
and for an hour, sometimes, | sat in the
darkcned room with my patient and
her mother, listening to her eloquent
words, her expressive voice, and noble
thoughts.
At last the day came when the BAN
dages could come from the large eyes,
and the final test of sight be made. AS
| drew off the fine handkerchief, shield
ing the light from her, she held the lids
still pressed firmly down, holding out
her hands.
" Mother! let me see mother first"
Mrs. Howard was already kneeling
by the chair, and the long rapturous
look, which drank in every feature of
her face, was proof enough that Clara
indeed sd,c her mother. Her Aunt came
next, and then she asked for me.
I tremblcd like Il boy rs | came to
obey her call. No word greeted me,
but the large eyes filed with gratitude
as my patient carried my big ugly hand
to her lips, and pressed kisses upon it.
Well, was an old fool, and could moi
bear it; so in the presence of mother
and aunt, lneeling by the low chair that
held my darling, l told my love, my
hope.
She turned away from me, stretched
out her arms with cry Of Mother
mother ~ and sank, weeping, into heI
mothers arms. Even in that hour of
agony l thought of the precautions t.
preserve the tender cyesight-gave hel
aunt the directions for darkcning the
room again, and went down stairs a:
= calmly as if my whole life was not a,
dark as the one from which L had res
cucd her.
Two hours later / had turned over m.
practice to an old friend, made my banl
, arrangements, and closed my house, tC
a start at midnight for New York, catcl
r the next days steamer, and sail 70
: Europe.
She could not love me. This was thu
!, haunting thought that drove me from
e England to France, from Spain to italy
II over country after country, for thre
Y weary years. All the tender infection
0 of her voice that had fed my mad hop
y were dictated by gratitude; the yicldin
l. of the soft hand to my long clasp, tn
permitting of my respectful caresses il
pain, were all given to the doctor an
u friend but when the old lover SUED
e the tender child, pitiful, frightened, an
= unloving, could only turn and wee
|, upon her mothers bosom. | blesse
h her for those tears; she pitied me
It there was no scorn in her rejection, onl
1t sorrow that she had unconsciousl
|, wounded loving heart. ! could blam
', her with no coquetry; frank and guil'
rs less AS Il child, she had suffered me t
20 read her tender gratitude, and if !, i
g mad presumption, misconstrued it, sh
,e was exempt from all knowledge Of til
l. dreaming.
ID Time scared over the wound. ! coul
y not forget, and memory would som,
e, times stab the heart deeply; but | ha
e. let three years pass over my folly, an
it WAS becoming part of other paint
"reminiscences, unconnected with IL
present. ! resolved to return home.
Iy was in little seaport town in Italy Whe
N my resolution was taken, but the nel
~ day l changed my purpose. a fat
It. epidemic fever broke out, and | w
lc needed. Crowded as the little town WI
~ with strangers visiting it for sea bathil
IT, and air, the malady found plenty of vi
ne Tins, and every nurse or doctor cou
find employment, There was not muC
~ TO make life attractive to me, so ! dare
cOntagiOn in the narroWeot courts, Il
er most filthy lodgings, scarcely allowil
ms myself tiule for necessary rest and /
n. ncshment.