Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1889-10-03

| Shadow on the child.
( Between two and three years after Mr..
( Wilton's death a change seemed likely to
/ occur In my own prospects. 4 rich rela-
/ tion-a physician of high standing-wrote,
/ urging me TO come to London Immediate
/ ly on a matter, so he said, Of the greatest
I Importance 70 myself There was nothing
/ to prevent my complying with his request.
/ The village was in a healthy state: my
outside practice might he made TO spare
me. | wrote stating | would be with him
the following day.
went 20 Croft house TO say goodbye.
1t was summer. Mrs Wilton was sitting
out on the lawn with Charlie on a rug
close at her feet She made room for me
beside her. and we talked together for
short time Of her affairs and Of the child.
1t was not until had risen to go that l
preached the subject Of my departure. She
looked surprised alarmed
'But, Charlie" she said, 'if he should
ne ill?p
81 would not 20 If he were ILL., / will
return at once if he should need me-" /
answered, earnestly but is he not the
picture Of health? Why, he comes exempt
from every childish trouble"
told her my relatives address, know
ing she only cared 70 have it in case she
needed me for her boy; then l lifted the
child in my arms and kissed him Good
bye, little manw | said. cheerfullv. He
was a splendid little fellow. of whom bis
mother might weu be proud; ne resembled
bis father, too, and was growing more like
him every day.
was about TO SIT the child down, but
aal inc 4.
iTupelled me To hold him closer. to. look
INTO his face--his eyes-more scrutinizing-
ly than had ever done And 50 looking.
I shuddercd at the thought that then as
sailed me. Great powers! Could fate be
80 cruei2 Had Heaven no pity for this
poor mother, who. so young, had already
borne enough Of sorrow I put the boy
down quickly ana turned away.
Pcrhaps-perhaps, after all, may have
been miataken
reached London and DR. BIS resi-
dence that evening aud my worthy rela-
tive quickly explained the object of his
summons. He wished me to undertake,
with his supervision, a case requiring the
utmost care aud consideration; one which
rendered it necessary that a medical man
should reside tor a time beneath the same
roof as his patient and be with him night
and day.
This patient was Lord Welbury, a self
made man so far as his immense wealth
was concerned; but he came Of an ancient
and honorable race
| accepted the munifcent conditions of
fered, and within a couple of hours Of my
arrival in town was driven 30 Lord We'll
bury's house in Belgrayia and entered up
on the duties of my post
For some days and nights my RESPONSE
biliUes absorbed all my attention. The
life of the sick man hung on a thread; my
medical capacity was taxed to its utmost:
/ knew not nor cared not, for the time be-
ing what went on outside that chamber.
The crisis passed, the patient began rap
idly to recover. The first day that he was
able to sit up in his room he asked me a
startling question. He said: Doctor, am
| sanef"
Your mind has never been affected"
answered, unhesitatingly. Your IOrdship
is as sane "a l am"
Good Therefore a win made by me
now could not be made invalidyn
Most certainly not on the ground of in
competency"
''Then my win must be made tomorrow
or next day at latest. This illness has
warned me to delay no longer, My niece's
child will be my heir"
His words set me musing and turning
over in my mind how this could be.
"Your lordship is childless, then" The
remark slipped from me almost uuawares;
but they were fatal words, as the result
proved.
81 beg your pardon" / added, seeing
surprise and some annoyance written Oh
his face
mot at all, he answered, courteously.
II suppose You are acquainted with my
family affairs, for they are no secret l
have a son. though no communication has
passed between us for nearly four years.
He set me and my wishes at defiance by
marrying beneath him, consequently Will
inherit little more than IA empty title l
mean to leave my fortune TO my niece's
child. The boy was committed to my care
when his parents went to India two years
ago. He is fine little fellow, and it shows
how close in attendance you have been on
me II you did not even know he was in
the house"
"Was your sons name Charles-that Of
the girl he married Una?" / asked, scarce
ly needing his last words. My heart was
beating faster than it should, my voice in
my earnestness less steady than it ought
to be.
"Yes. But why these questions"
knew he was well enough now TO hear
the truth, therefore | answered: Because
it is my belief your lordship's son is dead.
viii relate 70 you sad story; when
have finished YOU viii be able to judge
whether or not you are concerned in it"
Then told, as briefly as l could, the Croft
house tragedy; and, as l did so, read inthe
ever-iucreasiug interest with which he
listened to my tale that my suspicious
were correct.
That the man had to deal with was of
a proud, egotistical, and unsympathetic
nature | was wen aware; that the death
of his only son would not vitality affect him
had rightly guessed, but l was scarcely
prepared for the interest he displayed on
learning OF the existence OF his grandchild.
The better nature OF the man seemed
touched. spoke OF little Charles beauty,
his likeness TO his father-eveu limited at
a resemblance TO Lord Welbury himself.