The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-10-07
THE BASILISK.
A STORY OF TO-DAY.

A STORY OF TO-DAY.
CHAPTER III.
A DECIDED STEP.
How we'll I can imagine the scene,
which I can not see! St. Bartimeus's en-
tete always appealed grimly to what
what was left of the humorous side of
my nature. The brightness Of light
and of color which was so lost on the
persons chiefly concerned; the floral
and other decorations, which the sensi-
tive fingers of patients helped to con-
trive, and which were greeted with so
much admiration by the fleeing visit
ors, who crossed our dark orbit for q
night, and came no more; the stir of
preparation which heralded the visits
Of the children of light to the children
of darkness; tho cares and the vanities
which bridged that dreadful guilt more
firmly than the mockery of a sympa-
thy, which tried in vain to forget its
own security-all these things usually
moved mo only to an unwholesome
mirth. kept apart in spirit even from
my blind fellows, reserving a nook of
special darkness for myself. They
were not like me, luckily for them,
They had brought their past lives with
them into their strange land, and kept
touch unimaginatively with those who
loved them. had found my new life
90 awful that l had lost the saving
sense of the reality of the wholesome
LONELINESS that surrounded us all. To-
day, while we were busted, under COM
petent direction, in fitting up our large
hall for the entertainment of the evening
had lost much of the armor of fierce
dependency in which TRUSTED. felt
very little like that blind mixture of
blind Milton and the Devil whom he
portrays, on which I had somewhat
tried to mold my character. 1t was
not without shame that felt an actual
sensation of exhilaratiou as did my
fair share in carrying heavy piano
from one room to another. Nor was
it in the old uninteresteu spirit that I
ran my fingers over the keys, when We
had deposited the instrument in its new
place, and made the large empty room
ring and re-echo with strains If almo>t
aggressive jubilancc. knew very well
that, beside those whom l should re-
spect as musicians, my powers were
as nothing. The applause I had re-
ceived in Old days had gratificd. but it
had never deceived me. l had loved
music too truly to dishonor it by think
ing that my attachments were worth a
thought. and now rolled off my thanks
to it for rewarding my devotion by
bringing me back into the warm cir
Gle of human sympathies. Ishould no
longer DO outcast. should no longer
be useless. The i.rper;ous and mystic
rious Giulia Bcaufoy had owned the
spell of my music; the gertle-voiced
cousin was to profit by my powers Of
instruction. Life seemed positively
about to relax into smile
once more, and the grimly humorous
view of St. Bartimeus s en- fete had given
place to the eagerly expectant.
$50 you're determined to despise the
warnings of friendship?' said DR..
Shaw, as we stood by the fire in the
hall expecting momentarily the arrival
of the earliest guests.
I'm what way, doctore"
I'm leaving US, and going to the Beau
IL don't see how can stay here, ~
said l; ';,you don't think I am likely to
Il can't tell" said Shaw, rather
testify. H. hated to be pressed on a
point where he did not feel justified in
giving a decided opinion. ''You re SO
impatient. One of the main objects Of
this place is to give people chance Of
recovering in peace. Yours is curious
case. 1t is chiefly nervous. A morbid
nervous state, and shock, sli ght to
anybody else, serious to you, were the
real causes of your loss of sight. I,
might return under favorable condi-
tons. You won't give yourself 9
chance"
1 nut very little faith in Shaw's med.
ical views of my case, clever and sue
cessful as he undoubtedly was. had
too good reason to believe that he real
" regarded mino as hopeless. AS a
really strong feeling of friendship had
grown up between us, put these Oc'
casionally hopeful views down to his
desire to encourage me, and. at present
particularly, to his wish to keep me al
the Home. and more especially to pre-
serve mo from tho imaginary and tc
me rather inviting, dangers of the Bias
ilisk, Miss Beaufoy.
swell, DOCTOR" said. IF that
your view. am much moro likely t,
meet with some homeopathic cure on
In the world than in this security. Ant
! can't go on living on charity like thi
forever"
'Bosh!' said Shaw. "'A wilfu
man will have his way These enter
tainments won't 20 on half so vel
without YOU"
II can come over to them," I said
''Besides, the matter ism t settled yet.
have not seen MIR. Beaufoy, and he vii
have something t" cav to it all
"He will only have to say ditto t
his daughter, depend upon it," he re
piled grimly. Though I should So,
she is about the only person he woul'
take his orders FROM
"What is he ike?" asked for tn
first time, for had rather av led tn
subject when it had become so interest
ing to me, and so distasteful to tn
good doctor.
"Like? Oh. he's quiet, and as har'
as nails. Something between a groom
and dean, aud talks like an idea
schoolmaster.'
us he old?''
Hes grey, in q hard robust way
with an eye as blue as ice, and as kee
as lightning"
Il hope he won't sit by while I Civ
my lessons" was all I could say.
A loud peal at the front-door bel
brought our conversation to q close.
made my way to sofa near the piano