Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1879-07-25
INC Doctors Romance.


He told me himself ali about II. Did
YOU never hear the story2 It was rath-
er romantic, and helped me pass away a
long tedious evening. I was laid up
with broken leg in Munich that winter
we fellows went abroid for a few months
travel 1t was dull work staying hour
after hour in my lonely room at the
German hotel, while the boys were of
enjoying themselves Ny doctor was
my only comfort. He usually paid me
the daily visit Just after dinner, when
he was entirely at leisure, and, plying
my forlorn condition, spent an hour or
so with me, entertaining me with bits
Of gossip in connection with the mad
king and his sad queen mother. Odd,
quaint old bits Of poetry would some
times slip out Of his pockets, which the
kind old fellow thought might enjoy.
One evening we spoke Of his wife and
daughter, and it would have done you
good TO see the proud, happy look In his
face at the mere mention of his daugh-
ter's name. She was the delight and
pride Of his heart. But, when he men
toned his wife, the look changed. and
the tender, loving expression so altered
his face that could scarcely repress my
establishment. He sat quietly a. mo-
ment; then, looking up in half
ashamed manner said: 81 never told
you how won my bride, did I? You
would like to hear2 So"
Upon my expressing the interest I
really felt, he began. BUTT would be use
less for me to try and give you any idea
of the odd, broken English he used so
| will content myself with translating it,
though my story will lose half its point.
He was Of Portuguese birth, and, as a
younger son, was obliged to follow some
profession. He decided upon joining
the medical fraternity, and, liking the
reputation of the Munich schools, came
there accompanied by his mother and
sisters. They settled themselves quietly
and his life would probably have flowed
on uneyentfully had it not been for the
Wretched unhealthy climate which, be-
fore many months threw both Of his sis
ters into the typhoid fever. After q Sc
we're illness they recovered strength
enough to travel, and he insisted upon
their being taken into the country for
change of air.
They had hardly left when he himself
was taken down with the most malig-
nant type Of the fever. For weeks he
was unconscious and delirious. During
this time his German landlady was faith
full and untidng in her care. suppose
his dark, handsome, face, with its soft
Spanish eyes, had touched a tender
chord in her phlegmatic breast. At any
rate he came to himself one fine morn
ing and, as he expressed it, "Why sirl I
did think was in heaven, for one lovely.
sweet little novice was sitting By my
bed side" He shut his eyes for a mo
ment and when he opened them she
was gone. So then he was sure he had
been dreaming And when later the
kind old Frau came in he told her OF
his lovely dreams of Heaven and angels.
"Oh, nonsensep she said, "no angels
about it, twas only my daughter who
has Just served her nOvitiate and is at
home for her last visit before going into
the convent for life. It will be her dutv
in the future to tend the sick and suffer-
ing, 50 thoughtshe might begin with
you"
Well, the days went on frightened by
occasional glimpses of the quiet. gentle
face. Though not many aor often. for
the German mother was wise and care.
ful. At last he was pronounced well
enough to study again, only his ewes
were so weak that he could not use
them. So somebody had to be found to
read his dry textbooks. "WeH.n he
said, Il could think of no one who could
read so well as the little novice" So he
eoaxed and persuaded, by what arts or
tricks know not, but at last the mother
yielded, only there must be a screen be. |
tween them. Day after day they sat in |
the same room, aud a queer picture they |
must have made. She, on one side Of !
the screen, poring dutifully and studi- /
ously over the dry musty doctor books.
He, on his side catching only the tones |
Of her voice and letting the words and |
their meaning float away wherever they
would. Longing for courage to tear away
the screen which kept them so far apart,
or at least wishing that he might make |
a hole small enough to escape the moth |
er's watehful eye, and yet large enough. |
to allow him to see this gentle girl whom |
he loved 50 dearly. At last one day, as
be told me, Il could endure it no lon |
ger, so did knock down that hateful |
screen, and taking the two little hands |
in mine, before she could run away, i |
asked her would she not rather go |
through life as my wife than to 90 back |
to the dismal convent and be a nun? |
Well-f you will come to my apart |
ments, when your leg gets well, I will |
introduce you to her, and she will tell /
you whether or no, she is glad she is not |
q nunP
= And that is the whole story.