The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1879-01-04
Farmer Joyce came up. with a grimy hand


Farmer Joyce came up. with grimy hand
extended in honest gratitude.
''Thank you kindly, sir. don't mind for
the ricks and the buildings-they are all In
sured; but it went to my heart to hear them
poor brutes scream"
Mat gave his left hand-the right was
bound up with handkerchief. The old rec
tor joined them, Miss Bellue leaning on his
arm.
"The danger is over now, Joyce, I think.
Mat, came across with me-"
Mat glanced at the averted face of the
young lady, and misconstrued it. She was,
in truth, ashamed to meet his eye. The
contrast between his GOODNESS and courage
and her physical cowardce humbled her.
She had come down from that pedestal of
propriety from which she had presumed to
judge him so harshly, but he did not suspect
it.
"Ihave burnt my hand and arm slightly
just my luckW said Mat. 81 must go home
at once to dress them"
He took up his hat as he spoke, awkardly
enough. with the left hand, and turned
away.
HE is fine fellow, Agnes, that lover of
yours" said the rector; "but his manner is
rather abrupt tonight. What ails him?'
"Never mind, papa-never mind"
There was kind of wall in Miss Bellue's
voice.
ga lovers quarrel, thought the rector,
sagey. "Then my attitude must be one OF
digni6ed neutrality-my policy non-interven-
tion;" and he laughed quietly to himself at
the conceit.
Mat was dressing his burns in the surgery
when the outer door opened and his father
entered.
"Hallo, dad! Who called you up9 1t
was nv tIirn t0-niphto
1t should be explained that "young Nat
Curtis'' and "the old doctor'' were partners,
"The old doctor" made no reply. He sat
down in a low chair, and began to fan him
self with broad straw hat. Mat, looking up
in surprise, saw that he was CHASTITY pale;
that his eyes had look of horror in them !;
that his whole appearance was that of a man
who had sustained terrible fright.
Mat touched his arm gently.
what is it, father?"
Doctor Curtis's lips moved twice before
any sound issued; then he uttered hut one
word: "Cholerap'
Upon Mats face there came faint refec-
ton of bis fathers fear. The scourge had
been raging with fearful violence in distant
parts of England. They had talked of it Of
ten, dreading its approach, trusting it might
pass this pure, healthy village.
No; the next day three cases were reported
and one death. The rival practitioner, Mr..
Bennett, man of good private means, fled
with his wife and family. Mat and "the old
doctor" were worked almost to death. No
need of bar-parlor discussion, or approaching
steeple chases or poaching ARRAYS now to
quiet the mad young blood.
Mat went from house to house with grave
face and a cheerful, kindly, hopeful word for
every terrified wretch who shuddered at bis
own tears.
Then his father was stricken, "the old
DOCTOR"
Poor cold doctor"l When the evil he had
dreaded really came to him. seized upon him,
he grew brave and strong.
sNensense, lad!' he said when Mat tried
to speak encouraging words from sinking
heart. 81 have no stamina; could not ex-
pect to live much longer in the ordinary
course Of nature. Don't blink the truth,
boy. I shall be glad to die in the harness.
Miss Belue watched the funeral procession
from that same upper window she had once
before put to similar use.
Very contrite was Miss Bellue In these
days. A horrible dread had taken possession
of her with the very first report of cholera in
the village. She fought against it; she hated
herself for it; she tried to drag herself to the
beds of the sick poor; but her trembling
limbs refused to carry her. 1t was constitu-
tional physical cowardice; and every gossip
ing tale of Mats calm heroism increased her
self abasement and her love and admiration
for that unconscious gentleman.
His fathers death gave him double work,
but he did not spare himself. He snatched
food, rest, sleep, when and how he could,
until the epidemic died out almost; then as
the last case was in fair way of recovering
he sckened.
"My luck has changed" said Mat with a
smile. 81 can be spared now the work is
DONE"
Miss Bellue heard the news the same hour.
A housemaid to whom she had done some
little kindness ran off to the rectory to tell
| her. Miss Bellue gave an order or two and
went straight TO her fathers study.
''Papa, Mat is stricken now"
s'Bless my soulp' said the rector, in great
excitement "Poor lad-poor ladW
81 have told jenkins to put the horses to
| the brougham, and the housekeeper to get
| the green bedroom ready"
s'Eh2" and the old gentleman looked very
bewildered.
Sand you must fetch Mat" explained Miss
| Bellue, calmly.
| "But-but"-
s'He shall not be left to the nursing of those
| ignorant servants" she insisted, fesolutely,
HE shall be brought here or will assur-
| eddy 60 to him."
| The rector had yielded to her all her life.
he shook his head in sore perplexity.
| care you not afraid, dear?"
A peculiar smile lighted her pale, beautiful
| countenance.
| ssNot now"
| A similar question was almost the first one
| put by Mat in convalescent state,
s'Were you not afraid, darling"
| Perfect love casteth out fear" she re-
| joined, softly.