The Penn's Grove record., 1885-06-20
THE OLD, OLD STORY.

TIE OLD, OLD STORY.
1t was but a lonely life that he led
the great man to whom all looked up,
TO whom all came for %councsl, Tor adj
vice. and for sympathy. lie was ever
kind. courteous, and tender to those
| who sought him-gentie and sympa-
thetic even with the foolish and weak.
People wondered why Doctor Ayrell
did not marry. Many a woman-even
some belonging TO the upper ranks OF
society-would have been only too Will
ling to come to his hearth and home;
but he gave no sign that he wanted a
wife.
One dusky summer evening he was
sitting In his library, a large gloomy
room, lined from floor to ceiling with
! welI-flled bookcases.
In this twilight hour, when there
was no one to see him, he made no at
tempt to tighten the sombre shadow on
his brow and in his eyes-deep dark
| eyes that were very steadfast and ten
der.
A bell sullenly changed through the
great silent house, raising a hundred
echoes that seemed this evening to beat
on his heart; and "a servant entered,
"a woman; sir, who says you bade
her come this evening "
s'Show her in here, Eliot, please"-
his voice was sweet, clear and frm,-
sit is quite right"
Eliot lighted the candles and retired
ushering in in a few moments a woman
of the humble class. She dropped a low
courtesy, and wiped her eyes with the
end of her shawl.
How Is your husband now, Mis-.
KingI'' asked the physician.
His voice set her tears flowing, and
she poured out a long tale of sorrow, to
which he listened with gentle patience.
There was another ring at the bell,
and Doctor AyTell sat down and wrote
a prescription, which he gave to the wo-
s'You had better" he said moving to
wards the door, ''get this made up at
once; and remember to attend to all the
directions | gave you yesterday. I will
see what | can do for your boy. l shall
not forget"
"That I'm sure you won't. sir. Thank
you kindly You're always so good.
Good evening, sir"
The woman courtseyed herself out,
and Philip Avrell turned back with a
half.sigh.
1t was a young girl this time. She
entered with a lauguid and half-timid
step. She had a pretty face, with large
eyes and a sensitive mouth, and was
evidently IA lady, although her dress be-
tOkpnad Straiphtened means.
~ was told, DR.. Avrell," she said
flushing painfully, and speaking a little
confusedly, that you would see-that
you made"
you did quite right to GOMEZ in
terrupted Doctor Avrell, putting her
into a chair. Give me your hand.
What do you dor" he said, when he
had asked several questions, resting his
forehead on one hand, as was habltual
with him, and keenly scanning the face
of the person to whom he spoke.
81 am a clerk in a city Office" an
swered the girl, nth a half.smile.
"a clerki"-and Dr.. Avrell smiled
too. "That is a very good occupation.
l suppose your hours are longP"
mine to seven-the usual hosrs in a
house like ours"
"Long hours, said the physician
''too long for a young thing like you
sedentary work too"
81 can't help it, Doctor Avrell; |
must work. There are people DEEPEN
dent on me-" Her voice became husky,
and she stopped suddenly.
"Poor chlldl' SAID Philip Avrell,
with gentle pity-plty that CALLED
| &hn p~n,,Iaof kI EnnuU II 10 nf M ngA
to suggest shorter hours to you. 1t is
nothing but over-work from which you
are suffering. You want strengthen
ing. | viii give you something that
will do you good"
"Thank you, you are very kind, p"
said the girl earnestly.
While he wrote he asked her many
questions about her life, and finally
told her to come and see him in three
days.
''But, Doctor Avrell," she began.
not quite knowing how to say that that
would not be his free evening.
He smiled, and shook hands, say
ing
Don't you know, Miss Laurence,
that | am very autocratic with my pa
tients? l see them when | like, and
they always do as l tell Them"
Then he turned away, and more pa
tients came; and for each he had a kind
word, as well as counsel and sympathy.
=
A richly-fumished chamber, soft car
pets, silken curtains, a snowy bed, on
which lies tossing a little child with a
delicate face and n burning spot on
each cheek, its golden curls lying on
the pillow, and Its blue eyes Toming
restlessly about the room. Beside the
child a nurse stands. She looks down
anxiously, and then glances toward the
clock on the mantle piece.
81 wish my lady would come" she
says, holding the little feverlsh hand in
hers. ''She would never have gone if
she had thought Miss Daisy would take
such "A turn"
"Where's mother2 Oh, / want moth
erl" moaned the child. ''Why doesn't
she comepo
There is a rustic of silk outside; the
door is pushed open, and Lady Gwen
dolen Craufurd enters, She is a tall,
slender stately woman, looking scarcely
more than fve-and-twenty, though she
IS seven or eight years older than that
lovely in form, with a fair, delicate
skin, large violet eyes, and hair OF rich
gold, but with a sad weary look on her
face.
She comes to the bedside in her rich
white silk and crimson scarf, and bends
over the child, who turns to her with
outstretched arms and eliHgs to her
'murmurring, "Mother, motherl' In
rapture she claspsthe little form closely
to her, and breaths passionately a prayer
for her darling, the n treasure of her
lonely life.
''she is very Ill" she says quite