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

treating trivial subjects gayly and with
but letting her tone deepen '
and her language grow almost poetical {
as graver or more engrossing thoughts
wrought themselves into words. / do |
not like woman whose voice keeps an {
monotone, whose face wears a
placid expression through every change
of topic. No; give me the cheek that
tiushes and pales, the voice that rises to
passion and poetry, or sinks to tuneful
sadness as the heart rises or falls with
varying emotion. My beautiful riS-d-viS
was not more than nineteen, full of en-
thusiasm and poetry, and showed her
unselishness by her ability to throw
her whole interest into every topic, un-
Her mother soon left us to carry on the
conversation, but the look of relief and
pleasure showed me how she delighted
to see her child interested, and inspired
me to fresh eXertions to keep the ball of
conversation brislIly tossing. She was
proud, too, of her darling's ability to
keep pace with me on all subjects, some.
times frankly questioning where term
or reference puzzled her, but oftener
ready to meet suggestion by suggestion,
to give repartee for wit, news for news,
or argument for theory. Never did l
utter more reluctant good-by than the
one which preceded their driving from
the depot.
My whole day was absorbed in pro-
fessonal visits, and my heart being in
the work, no visions of the pale beauty
came to disturb me until late in the
evening, when | returned to my DESC
late home. Then, in the little Office
where l pass my evenings, l fell to
musing.
Memory came first to fill my heart,
showing me the past in vivid pictures,
sweeping aside my five lonely years ofbe-
reavement, to bring to my side the belov-
ed wife and children who had been car
ried to their final resting-place from this,
my home. Little figures, rs they had
sported around me, low, sweet voices,
tuned to childhood's happiness, fair
faces full of merriment seemed haunt
ing me, as Eddy, my noble boy, Amy
and Susy, my wee, winsome girls, were
recalled from their graves to memory's
picture-gallery. Then the graceful fig
ure of my first love, my Eva, came to
dim my eyes and thrill my heart, as,
blooming in her bridal dress, fair and
comely in home costumes, pallid and
stiff in her slroud, again saw her in
my heart. And why, following these,
should come the sweet face of the blind
girl, the clear, sweet music Of her voice,
the high-toned intellect her converse
ton revealed, i did not then compre-
hend but as the evening crept on, the
memory of my mornings ride crowded
out the past, and l dreamed only of
Clara.
The next morning, while was dress
ing, and speculating as to whether the
gray hairs creeping in among my black
locks could make me any uglier, or
whether snowy hair would lend IL digni-
ty to my big nose, great forehead, and
huge mouth, Il wee note was handed to
me from Mrs. Gilroy, one of my wealth.
lest and most agreeable patients. thread
as follows:
MY DEAR DoCToR,-Mcns has not cut her fin
ger, the parrot has not bitten Charley, | am not
hysterlcal, and papa is iourishing yet, notwlth-
standing this, you must call upon me this morn
ing professionally. Yours, very truly,
$. GILRoY.
OF course / went. My hostess pro
ten. met me in the hall, arrayed in a
mourning dress, yet wearing all her
smiles, and certainly looking most un-
. like an invalid.
[ "Come in here, Doctor" she said,
opening the library door, " and let me
, tell you why / summoned you. You
are looking at my dress; 'tiS for my
brother; you remember Stephen, who
D took a Timon-of- Athens freak twenty
: years ago, and buried himself in a coun.
' try town, where he died:"
{ l nodded.
81 can't pretend to grieve much, you
2 know" she said frankly, " for we were
| separated when our parents died; liv
!, ing here, with my aunt, until | married
$ he travelling the length and breadth
y of the world, till he buried himself a
) S.. We corresponded languidly, bu
were really very little acquainted
though now, conversing with his widow
@ | deeply regret the fact. And this brings
z me to your patient. \ few weeks age
d my sister-in-law wrote to me, begging
e that would find her boarding plac,
where she could remain while her daugh
Ir ter was under medical treatment, ant
o also asking my advice about a ply
# sician. OF course | invited her here
o and yesterday she arrived with her love
ly daughter, her only child"
v "What is the trouble?" | asked.
# "Cataract, l think" she replied
s. total blindness following fever, nearl.
% two years ago. The blindness came o.
ii suddenly, and my brother was YER
ae anxious to put her at once under treat
v. ment, but his own health was so feebl
* that his wife could not leave him; the
Is were unwilling to trust country pract
A. tioners, and Clara was afraid to com
G. here without her mother"
p- "Can | see her at once ?" l asked, m
- heart full of hope.
"Yes, l will bring her down. He
Ie mother has yielded to my persuasion
Id not to be present ut your examination