The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1885-03-19

simple - to fail to understand the in
ternal combination that has dictated
this inexpicable refusal. That little
monster of . Cecile must go on impos.
ing upon our unhappy relative. If the
doctors hand should send away the veil,
he would appreciate her at her true val
ne, and see what STANCE sort of Count
ess of Chatilion he has imposed upon
us as q cousin. That foolish comedy OF
perfect love they have for three years
been giving to the public would then
soon enough have tho denouement such
an ugly creature deserves!"
Upon hearing these cruel words, Co.
Gle rose, pale and trembling; her fever
lsh glance scanned the various groups.
She saw the American Just bidding his
adieu. She rushed forward, reaching
him in the hall just as q valet was help.
ing hin on with his overcoat.
"Doctor," she said in hollow, trem.
ulous voice, "your offer is excepted. I
count upon your visit tomorrow noon.
If you restore sight to NJ. do Chatlllon
will bless you to my latest hour!"
Five minutes later the poor young
wife led away her husband, concealing
from him her agitation and the incident
that had caused it.
Cecile passed horrible night. This
happiness which had rendered life so
dear was about to perish; the dream
had ended. Through all the long, in
terminable hours she wept bitterly des.
pairingly. Nevertheless, dawn found
her firm and resolute.
She went to her husband, and, with
out imparting to him the unworthy con-
lectures of Nine. de Gleves, she urged
him in such sweet. tender words to seek
healing once again that she triumphed
over his repugnance.
Doctor Richter came promptly, and
after careful diagnosis announced to
M. de Chantillon the certainty of sue
cess. The treatment began at once.
The applications were to continue nine
days, during which time the patient was
to be kept in utter darkness. He
yielded to this condition with rather q
bad grace; As for Cecile, she accepted
these nine days as one condemned to
death accepts the respite of = brief
period of existence. There remained
nine days more in which she might be
beloved.
Alas, like one condemned to death,
she knew the tortures of tho being to
whom the hour of supreme denouement
has ceased to be a mystry, for whom
each movement of the hand upon tho
dial repeats the fatal decree, brings 4
rending of the heart, convulsion of an.
guish. The delay, accepted at first as .
consolation, became an agony. In vain
Robert repeated to her that it would be
with this physician as with all the others
that blind he had taken him, and blind
he would leave him. Not for q single
moment did Cecile doubt of success.
She was convinced that her happiness
had been too great to last.
On the ninth day the doctor found
Nine. de Chatillon in the saloon. He
had anticipated the hour. Cecile, who
had not expected him so soon, was CIV
ing her tears free vent, knowing that
the supreme moment had arrived.
The American, regarding her more
closely than usual, saw the fearful raw
ages grief had made upon the unhappy
woman, but no absolutely mistook the
cause of the sorrow of which he had be-
come the involuntary witness.
II perceive, madam" he said, smiling,
"That I have not succeeded in making
you share my confidence in the cure OF
Count de Chatillon. Happily the mo-
ment has come to furnish you some-
thing better than aff;rmations. In five
minutes your husband will see you az
now see you myself"
At this assurance, which so greatly
aggravated her wound, Cecile raised q
cry: Her sobs redoubled, she had to
stiae them with her handkerchief.
Il beg your pardon, madam" said
tho amazed physician; "but in truth J
do not comprehend
"You shall comprehend, monsieurr
cried the young wife. II passionately
love my husband, and thus far am
sure he has fondly loved me in return.
Now look me in the face-right in the
face, Doctor-and see if when M. de
Chatillon shall have seen me plainly
and distinctly as you now see me, say
if it will still be possible for him to
love me-"
The doctor lowered his eyes and did
not answer. ''Ah, madame" he falter-
ed. "do you think if I had supposed, il
had known-?"
If you had known-Ah Doctor, this is
an INSULT" cried Cecile, with indignant
violence. "When I asked you to treat
M. de Chatillon told you that if you
succeeded in restoring his sight I should
owe you my life. Heed we'll what Isay
at this moment! It is not the sacrifice
alone of the days which remain to me in
this world that am willing to make
for his restoration, it is that of my hap
piness through eternity. Upon my
knees implore you in the name Of all
you love, give him back his sight doc
tor, give him back his sight!'
The doctor was visibly affected; he
tried to console the unhappy woman.
Soon yielding to sudden inspiration,
he rushed into the adjoining chamber,
and, reappearing with the cradle in
which little Bertha slept, placed it be-
fore Ceci]e. Then he went out again.
A minute after he came back, hold
ing Count de Chatillon by the hand,
his eyes still covered by bandage.
He led his patient to the middle of the
room, stationed him opposite window,
and with hasty gesture removed the
handkerchief.
For the three porsonages now con.
cerned with our story, there was one
moment of unutterable suspence. Rob.
ert, dazzled by the light, falter.
ed. Then he perceived the cradle.
my daughter!" he cried with trans
port. II shall not die without having
seen the features of my child. But Co.
clle-Where is Cecile ?" he added, anx-
iously.
A low sobbing answered. The poor
woman kneeling behind the doctor GOV.
cred her face with her two hands.