Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1884-02-15
20 express something by their earnest
yaze. 1t seems as if she understood Ada s


gaze. 1t seems as if she understood Adas
wOrds.
TITS the only thing to be done, be-
lieve," said Ada herself; land III do it."
She took cut her watch and looked at it
half-past 8. Going to the window she
drew the curtain little aside. There was
a faint gray haze all over the world; but
the light would be enough to find ones
way by, and every moment brought the
dawn nearer. IF did but know the
way I" she thought. swell, must wake
up some one and ask it,
Having made up her mind, she no
longer hesitated. She took final survey
of her patient and then left the room.
She locked the door OH the outside and
took the key with her. Quickly entering
her own room, she caught up her gray
cloak and travelling hat and pat them on
as she hurried down stairs. "If I only
knew where the servants sleep!" she
thought; "but I'm SO afraid of rousing
Mr.. Mertoun. l'll wake up some cottage
people,"
With some considerable difficulty she
opened the front door, and then drew it
close behind her without absolutely shut
j ting it. To her delight she found it would
stay so without moving; this would enable
her to again enter the house quietly. As
quick as swift feet would carry her she
], hurried out of the grounds. She saw no
cottages, so she went on along the widest
road, hoping to reach some haDitation in
/; time. To her delight she saw at last. a
hedger and ditcher trudging away to his
work. She ran after him and; almost
breathless with her quick movement and
excitement, caught him by the arm while
she asked him her question.
1.-THE doctorp" lie replied. "Right on
till the crossroads, then 10 the right; not
more mlle.''
| Not more than mile Nurse Harcourt
started on her way gleefully. That soon
| would be accomplished, she thought. Had
she but known how strange is the Cornish
mind on the subject of distances she
might have stayed to ask further informa-
ton. But, instead, she hurried away,
/ leaving the worklngman to stare after her
ia complete and bewildered amazement.
The crossroads we're reached before long;
| and then she turned to the right and hur-
ried quickly along the lonely road.
| At last Ada began to reflect on the fact
that she must have walked great deal
more than mile since her meeting with
the hedger and ditcher. In fact, she was
beginning to feel a little puzzled and hope
less. for there was no sign of houses. Still
she hurried on, hoping to meet some one
else who would direct her. Suddenly on
her ear fell the sound of laughter. Odd,
at this time in the morning; but, never
theless, the sound encouraged her. It
came again and again, and guided her
footsteps out of the high road into won
derfully quiet lane. The laughter still
went on ahead, like hooking spirit. as
a will.o' -the-wisp. But suddenly Ada
found herself close to little cottage,
every window of which was brilliantly
| Illuminated from within. The lower win
d0ws reached to the ground and stood
open. exhibiting all the signs of a late
revel. Empty decanter and bottles, in
namerable glasses. some packs of cards on
the foor-these things caught Ada quick
eye and made her wonder, while leaning
on the gate of the cottage was an ey treme-
ly handsome young man, dressed in white
flannels. He looked at Ada with the
steady gaze of astonishment. He Was
immensely surprised at the sight Of a
young lady in gray, with an extremely
charming face, taking walk at O'Clock
on misty morning. Without seconds
hesitation she approached him.
"Can you tell me where can find the
Doctors house?" she said. "A man l met
told me to come this way"
Her earnest tone seemed to rouse him
and MAKE him understand that she was
out on business.
"Dr. Frere is the nearest resident doc
| tor, he said, land he lives about six miles
of, over there" pointing the way Ada
had come. 'But if there's ANYTHING 1
can do, let me help you. am doctor. :"
your" said Ada, her gaze wandering
from his sun-burned face, which had on
it the unmistakable up. all-night express
sion, to his white flannel clad figure, and
then to the cottage beyond, which looked
so absurd in the growing twilight, with a
quantity of dying candles burning at the
tables.
''It's all right" he said, seeming to un-
derstand her perplexity. "l'm Alan
Browne, of Wimpole street. I'm down
here for the boating, and I've been hav-
ing bachelor party. Didn't you hear
that fellow laughing as he went off just
now? had to get four Of the others to
take him away.
II know your name. " said Ada. earn
estly. ''Come with me. I am nurse
from Mr.. Edgar's Home. am in charge
of Mrs. Mertoun up at the hall, and she's
dying. If you don't come at once it may
be too lste.''
"What's the matter with herr" said
DR.. Browne. live got pocket medi-
cine case here; shall bring itY"
Nurse Harcourt leaned ON the gate and
said something in sc freely audible voice:
then she took out thu bottle from her
pocket and held it up for inspection.
s.ImpossibleI" he exclaimed.
"COme and save her," said Ada solemn
ly. DR.. Browne turned, hurried into the
cottage, and in little more than a minute
reappeared with small case in his hand.
Seeing him ready to follow her, Ada i'm
mediately started off as quickly as posi-
BILE on Der return road. Alan Browne
hurried after her, leaving the little cot
tage, with all its windows open and its
disorder visible to any passer-by who
might chance to wander that way.