River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1882-08-03
"But 1 am not afraid, )" she answered,


began to waver as regarded Bessie Ash
by. Meeting her every day in her
cousins sick room it was not easy to
feel cold and stern. She was SO sweet
and girlish in her new humility, and
now the old capricious coquetry was
thrown aside, and in all her appealing
obedience to his orders he coald not
fail to see little sensati-e fear which
sometimes troubled, but always stirred
his heart. He must take care of her,
too; every shadow that crossed the
pretty face must be inquired into. He
was not going 10 fall in love again, of
course; he was merely doing his duty
as a medical man. Still it was rather
interesting.
Capt. Housted was the last serious
case of sickness, but it was very Sc
we're one. For months the poor fellows
life lay trembling in the balance-one
day fevered and delirious, the next ap-
parently sinking into death. But in
time he began to struggle through 1T,
and, thanks to Toms skill and patience,
the shadowy face began to light with a
faint glimmer of returning strength.
Gradually the fearful scourge VT AIKEN
ed its power, and little by little seemed
passing away. There were still pa
tients to be visited, and work to be
done, but the awful rage of the pesti-
lence had swept by. Then it was that
Tom Halifax began to reap his reward.
People who had never heard his name
six months before, sent for him in all
critical cases. Men of wealth and high
standing III society courted his ac-
quaaintance as the brave young doc
tor who did his work so nobly through
out the sickness at Dorning. Men and
women pointed him out to each other
on the street, saying: But for him |
should have been laid in my grave"
HE saved nay children for me-"
"When my mother died he was the
last man she knew" "When we
were in trouble he worked for us day
and night. God bless him!" Had there
been nothing else, the warm loyal
young heart would have thrilled with
tender thankfulness at the simple graf
itude of the humble sufferers to whom
he seemed almost Saviour, but apart
from this, reality came to him.
There was no lack of practice now,
and the name and fortune that had
seemed SO far away year ago, became
a promise of truth. OF course as yet
they were not quite perfected, but still
each day brought them nearer, and
showed something of solid advance
ment in life and prospect. The Chat
eaux en- Espagne were beginning to
stand on a substantial foundation.
Perhaps this might have made him
very happy. Naturally he felt thank
ful, but being very warm hearted and
lin some things very unscientific M.
D., he could not feel quite restful
The truest of all truths is, that what
ever we love, We can forgive, and what
ever we forgive, it is not difficult to
love. Bessie Ashby had refused Capt
Housted. Why had she done it? Could
it be that her foolish little heart was
subdued at last? 1t is easy to be mag
unanimous when one has been injured,
and it is hard not to be magnanimous
when the injurer is a pretty girl whom
one has lived. If this were more than
q simple record, | should certainly de-
eide that my hero could not forgive my
heroine under any circumstances, and
consequently should doom them both
to misery and despair. But as it is, l
am compelled to say that Tom Halifax,
M. d., forgave Bessie Ashby, for the
simple reason that, in spite of her
faults, he loved her.
And Bessie? During her cousins
sickness she had learned he extent of
the NJ. DIS power. She had found out
that she could look up to him and rely
on his strength, that she could trust
him implicitly. She began to discover
that he had a higher object in view than
the regard for self, which had been the
one ruling power of her life, and his
example taught her the true nobility of
generous sacrifice. Still, in spite of the
change in the hearts Of both, they had
not advanced much outwardly from the
old GOODNESS. But in the second month
Of Capt Housted's illness the denoue-
comes, unexpectedly.
One evening there had been slight
return of the fever. and after heavy
sleep the patient awakened, restless
and wandering. Bessie was standing at
one side of the bed, and DIR. Halifax at
the other, holding the captains hand as
he opened his eyes.
sit was you she loved after all, Hall
tax" he said, smiling family. II am
only Cousin Fred"
The blood rushed into Bessie's face.
The handsome eyes told her they
understood-told her with one glance
that burnt her cheek and set her heart
beating swiftly. The next moment
she had brushed by him and left the
room.
Half an hour after Halifax came
down stairs and walked straight into the
parlor as though with some object in
view. A very pretty figure stood reveal
ed in the dusky light by the window
a pretty head, with long, shining curls,
resting upon an equally pretty hand.
wonder if Miss Ashby knew what was
coming? Certainly her pulse huttered
very fast, and she looked out into the
garden quite resolutely.
"Bessiep
She did not move.
"Bessie!"
He certainly was determined gentle.
man, this DR.. Halifax, for he drew the
pretty hands away and turned Miss
Ashby to the light.
"Was it true?" he whispered, bend.
ing very low over her.
The long curls dropped little nearer.
1t really looked as if Miss Ashby was
going over to the enemy.
"I--I think it was" she said, very
softly 81 think it has been true for a
long time, DR.. Halifax"
1t was dreadfully undignified, but
Miss Ashby had positively made an
unconditional surrender, and the curls
lay in a shining heap against DR.. Hall
fax's broad shoulder.
"My dear little girl" he said tenderly
kissing the pretty, tremulous face. 'My
dear, dear little girl, how happy you
have made me-"
What more have to say? have
ended my record, bringing both hero
and heroine through their adventures,
and leaving them in a properly dramat-
ic position. | have only TO tell you
that Captain Housted has proved my
theory of the elasticity of hearts, and
recovering from his sickness, recovered
hom his disappointment in a very
sensible and decorous manner. In all
probability he forgot his penchant for
brown eyes and married blonde. II
he did, could there be better proof
that love is a lottery, and variety the
spice of life?"
Old John Brown.
''oome thirty years ago." writes a
friend of '-Old Ossawottamie," "while
i Il II