The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1880-01-20
Selert Stnry.
Doctor Motions Mother.

Uoctor Mo!LonS Motner.
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 it's socket !;
the log Of wood had converted itself to
ashes; but of all this Doctor Bernard
Motion saw or heard nothing as he sat
in his ofice-cbair, lost in thought. If
the moon had hidden the world good
night, if the candles feeble existence had
entirely ceased, and even the red glow of
the ashes in the CRATE had died away, be
would still have seen only the picture of
1.-THE woman's face whom he loved.
II was with him now as it had been
with him for hours past, since the mo-
ment be had placed his fate in Violet
Fane's keeping, and she had accepted it..
No wonder that it all seemed new and
strange to him-that be was needless of
time and space. She was such delicate,
bigh-born lady, and he-ah, another Wis
ion came before him now. Not the
cheerful Office, with its luxurious ap.
pointments-he might at least offer Vio-
let home worthy Of her-hut the mem
ory of the days when he had run, a little,
5arefooted lad, about his mothers cot
tage, and the toiling for her only child
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 she2 Why was it that tonight her
old, wrinkled face drove even Violet
Fane's beauty from himP
True, he had no longer allowed her to
work; true, she sat at ease in her little
cottsge. thinking of.and praying for, her
boy, who was so good and generous TO
her, but was it his fault that his patients
we're so many and his hours so precious,
that he could fHd no time to gladden. her
old heart by a glimpse OF him now and
then?
And now-now that be thought of
Violet as his wife-Violet, with her high
bred ways-Violet, whose every associ-
alton was in such a widely different
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 two; bat
q red-hot flush burned on Doctor Mol
toms cheek, as he rose to find his way
up to his room and bee, ,and perhaps for
getfulness 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 be but dream Of those other eyes
In the far-eff homo, pb;ea
somehow tonight bad so persistently
haunted his thoughts
In the little cottage all was hustle, for
Mrs. Motion had determined to give her
boy a surprise. and the train for London
started very early.
London! 1t lay ten long hours away
1t would be almost nightfall when she
arrived. How glad Bernard would be
to see her! 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
anything.
She was sorry now che had not had
the village dressmaker make up the black
silk he had sent her, but it looked SO
grand, in its lustrous folds, that it seem
ed q pity to touch it with the scissors,
and she would seem more natural like to
Bernard in her stuff dress.
How often she had pictured him in bis
lonely home. She hoped be might be
ont when she arrived, that she might take
off her bonnet, and slipping on her white
cap, let him find her, with her knitting in
her hand, quietly seated by the 6reslde
waiting for 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 at
the smiling old face, with something
tugging at their heart-strings which al
most brought moisture into their eyes.
1t was quite nightfall when the city
was reached. There had been some
slight delay on the road and the old lady
felt a sinking at the brave heart which
had prompted her mission. However,
she succeeded in finding cabman viii
ling to take her to the address she held
in her hand.
"It must be q mistake, or he has
brought me to the wrong place. Oh,
dear, what shall l do ?" she sighed, as
he drew rein before large. handsome
house, presenting well-lighted front,
in one of the most aristocra,ic portions
of Mayfair.
But cabby treasured her, and she soon
found herself, surrounded by boxes and
bundles, facing the formidable "gentle-
man" who opened the door.
Save for suspicious shortness Of a
certain portion of his attire. which reach
ed only to bis knees, where they we're
met by stiff leather leggins, the worthy
woman would have dropped him cour-
tesy.
"Past the doctors office hours, ma 'am,'
be said, in response to her feeble appeal.
"Iss as much as my place is worth to
take in your card"
"But ! have no card. He'll see me.
Tm-Tm-"
But she did not finish the sentence
only stepped inside the door and stood
under the full glare of the light of the
hall lamp. i
The man looked askance at the singu-
lar apparition. Her hat was crushed
and bent, her dress bore evidence of the
dust of travel, and in her hand was q
huge handbook containing the hat which
was to astonish the Londorers.
"Indeed, ma'am-" the man began,
but the old lady walked steadily on to
the door beneath whose threshold she
deserted stream Of light.
The hot flush haG by this time burned
out of Doctor Molton's cheek. The
mornings dawn had dissipated the fool
|ish fancies OF the night. His duties for