Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-03-14
DIR. MOLTON'S MOTHER.

DR.. MOLTON'S MOTHER.
The clock on the mantel had just
chimed one short, musical stroke.
Through the half-closed blinds shone
the silvery light of the fast-waning
moon; the candle had burned low in
its socket; the log of wood had con-
verted itself to ashes; but Of all this
DR.. Bernard Motion saw Or heard moth
ing, as be sat in his Office chair, lost in
thought. If the moon had hidden
the world goodnight; if the candles
feeble existence had entirely ceased,
and even the red glow of the ashes in
the crate had died away, he would still
have seen only the picture of the wom-
ans face whom he loved.
It was with him now as it had been
with him for hours past, since the mo-
ment he had placed his fate in Viola
Fane's keeping, and she had accepted
it. No wonder that it all seemed
new and strange to him-that he was
needless of time and space. She was
such delicate, high-born lady, and he
-ah, another vision came before him
now. Not the cheerful Office, with its
luxurious appointments--ae might at
least offer Violet home worthy Of her
but the memory of the days when he
had run, little, bare-footed lad, about
his mothers cottage, and the toiling for
her only child by which she
had earned one by one the
dollars which had sent him first to
the village school, and then to the great
city to learn the profession for which
he longed.
He had succeeded well and bravely,
beyond his most ambitious hopes; but
the mother who had toiled for him,
where was she? Why was it that to-
night her old, wrinkled face drove even
Violet Fane's beauty from him?
True, he had no longer allowed her
to work; true, she sat at ease in her
little cottage, thinking of, and praying
for, her boy, who was SO good and gen.
erous to her; but was it his fault that
his patients were so many and his hours
go precious that ne could find no time
to gladden. her old heart by glimpse
of him now and then?
And now-now that he thought of
Violet as his wife-Violet, with her
high-bred ways-Violet, whose every
association was in such widely differ
emit sphere-could it be that he was
ashamed of his mother?
The candle died out entirely; the
wood was white ashes now; the moon
had sunk to rest, the clock chimed 2;
but red-hot flush burned on DIR. Mol
tons cheek as he rose to find his way
up to his room and bed, and perhaps
forgetfulness in sleep.
For three long hours he sought the
boon in vain, and when at last it came
to him, and his tired eyes closed, how
could he but dream of those other eyes
just awakening in the far-off home,
which somehow tonight had so persist
entity haunted his thoughts?
In the little cottage all was hustle, for
Mrs. Motion had determined to give her
boy surprise, and the train for London
started very early.
London! It lay ten long hours away.
It would be almost nightfall when she
arrived. How glad Bernard would now
be to see herl He had never proposed
her coming because he had thought she
would not find the courage as though for
his sake she would not do or dare any
thing.
She was sorry now she had not had
the village dressnaker make up the
black silk he had sent her, but it looked
SO grand in its lustrous folds that it
seemed a pity to touch it with the
scissors, and she would seem more nat
ural like to Bernard in her stiff dress
How often she had pictured him in
his lonely home. She hoped he might
be out when she arrived, that she might
take off her bonnet. and, slipping on her
white cap, let him find her, with her
knitting in hand, quietly seated by the
freside, waiting his return.
All the way in the train, when at last
she had got started on her journey, she
could hardly keep her happy thoughts
to herself; and more than one glanced
into the smiling old face, with some
thing Juggling at their heart-strings
which almost brought moisture into
their eyes.
It was quite nightfall when the city
was reached. There had been some
slight delay on the road, and the old
lady felt sinking at the brave heart
which had prompted her mission. How
ever, she succeeded in finding a cab
man willing to take her to the address
she held in her hand
ut must be a mistake, or he has
brought me to the wrong place. Oh,
dear! what shall I do?" she sighed, as
he drew rein before a large, handsome
house, presenting well-ighted front,
in one of the most aristocratic portions
of Mayfair.
But cabby treasured her, and she
soon found herself, surrounded by
boxes and bundles, facing the for
midable gentleman who opened the
door.
Save for suspicious shortness of a
certain portion Of his attire, which
reached only to his knees, where they
were met with stiff leather leggings, the
worthy woman would have dropped him
a courtesy.
"Past the doctors Office hours,
ma'am," be said, in response to her
feeble appeal. cts .as much as my
place is worth to take ip your card"