The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1879-11-14

l.
ties of health and wealth, popularity and
tame-all that could render life sweet or
enjoyable
Perhaps it is detrimental to my
heroine to say that she would have been
quite content 10 have lived upon the
fruits of her own fancy for the remainder
of her natural lite Had circumstances
compelled her TO change her abode, and
had she thus lost sight of Dr. Blake. the
dreams would have gone on just the
same, the fact of his dying in Il neigh
boring hospital of weakness and want,
and the quenching of all her material in
pauper's grave not interfering in the
least with Miss Turpin's airy fabric. 1t
would have been impossible to convince
Miss Turpln that he could reach so dire
an extremity, had not the knowledge
been forced in upon her in way that
she could not refuse.
She absolutely heard the gruff voice
Of Mr.. Shadrach upon the morning in
question, and the low, musical, but bit
terly hooking words of the doctor in re-
ply.
She sat down upon the rug and clasp
ed both her hands. He was going away,
then? Until that moment She had not
realized the extent of such disaster
She could have borne, perhaps, TO have
been compelled to go away herself, be-
cause the inevitable for her had become.
long since, matter of course; but to
have the iron hand of memorable ncces
slty grasp this magnificent young man
was terrible.
He had the flashing eyes, the lordly
mlen, the eXultant step-for thus had lit
tie Miss Turpin been wont to classify the
somewhat alluring personal attractions
of young Blake-he 10 become the prey
nf nm adj 6aSfinuf
Miss Turpin's breakfast that morning
was failure. By dint of long practice
and an exceedingly gracious gift of house
wifery she had always managed to get
up extraordinary little meals for herself
1t was as if little sOoty angel sat up
| aloft in the chimney and assisted the Gu
| linary efforts of the lone little woman.
| Her toast was of brown the most golden
her coffee was of Mocha the most deli
cious, her bit of steak so juicy and appe
| Using that sometimes poor Blake, in the
| neiShboring room, with some chunks of
brown bread floating helplessly in a
chalky fluid before him, finding this sa-
worry Odor under his nostrils, raised his
clenched hands at the stern wall between
| them in envy and despair.
But even the little angel in the Chin
ney became impatient with the behavior
of little Miss Turpin that morning. The
| little woman, usually so practical and ca
pable, while straining her ear to listen 10
faltering, stumbling step in the next
room, deliberately burned the toast and
boiled the coffee, and the sooty wings
spread themselves, taking flight in dis
appointment and disgust.
She held her breath as the familiar foot
step passed her door, and slowly one by
one went down the worm-eaten stairs.
Oh, where was he going? What would
he do? She had read sometimes OF an
evening, when working hours were over,
the shaded lamp upon the table at her
| side, the Goals leaping and blazing in the
refulgent CRATE, her little slippered feet
upon the fender-she had read of people
who, having neither money, means, nor
content, had drifted into IA moment of
| frenzy and despair, and thus leaped the
| awful bar that separates the known from
the unknown, content to risk any fate but
that which awaited them here. She had
read thus of poor, strange unfortunaIes,
and her heart had ached in their henalf
But now: Well, now her heart almost
ceased to beat. She put away her work
of what avail WAS it, all blOtted and
blurred by her tears, or ruined by her shak
| ing brush? All day she feared and
trembled; at nightfall some intuitive
hope caused her to brighten the fire, cook
dainty meal, and placing the table OPP
| porsite the door, leave the tempting,
coy room open upon the wind-swept,
gloomy corridor.
Then she waited and waited The
clock struck at midnight, then one, two,
thee from neighboring belfry; the
meal was cold, the fire burned low; the
chill, gray morning had almost dawned,
when at last it came; yes-thank God!
faltering and slow, but it was his foot
step; none other could quicken little
Miss Turpin's pulse.
He reached the landing, the door of
her room. Why, truly, he did pause
yes, and stagger in.
| Any other woman but this, perhaps
would have reCoiled with disgust and
horror, and, above all, with fear, for the
young man was evidently not himself.
His hair damp and disheveled, hung
IN heavy disorder about his face and
neck; his eyes, CLASSY and lurid, blaZed
upon hers; a red flame burned in his
cheeks; a slight foam ilecked his tremb-
ling lips.
He fell into the chair at the table, and
looked wonderingly upon the food before
him: but that which would have been
! frantically devoured six hours before
was like the ashes of bitterhess to him
now. He had not tasted food for thirty
six hours. But it was not hunger that
tortured HIM: it was thIrst-an appalling
| thirst
| He drank the pitcher of water from
Miss Turpin's hand and looked pleading
| ly for more.
do not be afraid to give the patient
water" he murmured, eagerly. I'm cas-
es of febriie debility they sometimes suf-
fer-suffer. | recommend by all means,
/ water, water-Waterp Then he fell back
with a groan of agony.
Miss Turpin ran out of the room and
down the stairs; pounded on the door of
the German tailor below, vino with his
wife and five children, was enjoying in
sleep the only immunity granted them
from endless labor and toll; badehim fly
for the best doctor in the neighborhood /;
ran up the stairs again ike deer, and
found DIR, Blake insensible, his head
thorwn back upon the chair, his eyes
hali-closed his stentorious breathing
audible in the corridor below.
| The little German returned with the
very best medical aid in the vicinity,
even that of the eminent DIR. Havershaw
himself
| All this fuss and confusion had arouS-
ed Mr.. Shadrach, who followed them up
the stairs and protruded his long, hairy
chin in the doorway.
| III Is, perhaps, psSt that you SnOuiu
know, madam" said the surgeon to little
Miss Turpin, ''that it is doubtful case.
| Your husband is in very critical con-
dition. If this worthy man will assist
me, we will get him to bed. Our only
hope will be a powerful sedative, to be
given at once"
The worthy man alluded to was Mr..
Shadrach, whose eyes almost left their
sockets when he found the doctor pre-
pairing to put his young lodger in Miss
Turpin's bed.
"Why-why," he gasped, looking at
Miss Turpin, s'this won't do, will it?T'
Miss Turpin bowed her head. She
could not speak, but it seemed to her that
her heart made all the noise that was
necessary It's convulsive throbs moved
the shawl she had thrown over her Shout
ders.
"Don't chatter here" said the doctor,
thinking Mr. Shadrach was addressing
him. Just do what bid you, and the
more quietly the BETTER
/ Half an hour later Miss Turpn was
alone again, save for the body of the
young doctor that lay upon the bed. He
was helpless there, perhaps dying; his
face was strange and distorted, his eyes
half closed. 4 confused, unintelligent
murmur flowed from his lips, his hands
cIenched and unclenched; at times n
| groan seemed wrung from his Vitais