Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-06-01
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

A glorious afternoon in summer. The
fierce rays of an August sun are tempered
bv light cool breeze which goes whisper
ing through the heavily laden bows of a
prime orchard adjoining a somersetshire
farmhouse, scarcely lifting the brown leaves
as it passes.
In hammock, slung from the branches
Of wide-spreading apple tree bending be-
meath its weight of golden fruit, Gerald
Latour lies idly lounging, with his magnif-
cent dark eyes, so lustrous in their shining
and so dreamy in their untathomable depths,
intently fixed on the form of young girl of
20, who is seated near him on q camp-stoOl
industriOusly plying her needle, with her
blushing face half hidden as she bends
more closely over her work to hide her con-
fusion.
A very pleasant picture for the eye to rest
upon amid such surroundings is Meta
Dean, with her clear cut profile, her smooth,
fair brow and arched eyebrows, her deli
cately cut nostrils and the rounded outlines
of her cheeks, with as pretty rosebud for 8
mouth as ever invited lovers kisses. Her
faxen hair, which waves naturally, is fas-
tened up behind In thick plaits, suggestive
OF unusual length. The light muslin dress
she wears, cut somewhat loose to the figure,
cannot wholly conceal the sweeping curves
of finely nodded form, for, though a rustic
beauty slightly built, Meta Deans joyous
life, happily free from care hitherto, has
tended, with her upbringing and wholesome
faring, to perfect the symmetry of lovely
figure. Add to this eyes of sapphire blue
with look of wondrous innocence and
trustfulness and the picture is complete.
And yet the little lady holds her head in
such a queenly fashion and there comes at
times such an air of resolution round her
pretty mouth that only a superficial OBJ
server would fail to perceive that gentle
and confding though her disposition is. she
is not the woman to put up with slight or
meekly bear an injury.
Her companion would attract attention
anywhere by his handsome, commanding
presence, for nature has given Gerald La
tour noble exterior, which has already
played sad havoc on the hearts of women
less susceptible to manly beauty than Meta
Deans. Gerald is tall, well made, with the
frame of young athlete. His dark COM
plexlon dark even to swarthiness-is
frightened by glow of warm color that
burns beneath his skin, which, with his
lustrously dark eyes and curling beard of
jet black, carefully trimmed to a point,
gives him the appearance of q handsome
brigHnd or a Spanish gypsy, according to
the point whence he is regarded. That he
lis q handsome man is undoubted. The
lassic regularity of his features would alone
: edeem his face from the commonplace.
he warm blood Of the sunny South inher-
d from distant ancestors circulstes in his
ins, and is perhaps partly responsible for
luxury of his disposition. For Gerald
our. it must be confessed, is Sybarite.
Jote Farm, of which Gerald Latour has
an inmate for two months past, lies
sting under the befriending shadow of
IN, 3nantock hills. Very proud is Farmer
DeaNrto have such an inmate in his house.
Tru& Gerald Latour is no "prince in dis
guise." He is simply city tradesman who
came to Cote to find health and strength
again in the balmy Somersetshire air, and,
though doing a large business as an italian
warehouseman in Great Chester street in the
city, he is not very much lifted above the
social scale occupied by the Deans, though
they are reported as q primitive people,
But Mr.. Dean is proud of his guest, proud
because of his flow of animal spirits and his
fund Of Information, proud, too, because of
what Cote farm has done him, seeing that
he came to them like a shadow, worn down
with illness, and has now become shining
example of what fresh country air, whole
some living, early hours, and the peaceful
occupations of country life can accomplish
for an invalid. But he is most proud of all
because Gerald Latour is his sons first pa
tient. and owes his life to Maurice Deans
unremitting skill and care.
1t is seven years ago since Mrs. Dean
passed away, leaving behind her two chill
II of nh bo I1e
Maurice, who claims a word or two of in
PRODUCTION. 1t was a sore blow to Farmer
Dean when his only son declared one day, in
the sstonished hearing of the old man, that
he would not be farmer and that he would
be doctor. "It's that eddication l gave
thee that has spoiled 'ee," the old man cried
in his veKation. 81 towd t'mother how it
would be. Nothing good comes of eddica-
tion.''
But Mr.. Dean had ever been an indulgent
father to his children, and when he found
that the lads heart was set on his profession,
he gave way reluctantly, but with many
grumblings at 'tthat eddication that has
done it all" Maurice Dean had Just CON-
pleted his medical studies and had started
in practice for himself near Great Chester
street when the wheel of fortune threw him
in the way of Gerald Latour, who had never
known a days illness in his life, was sud-
denly stricken down with typhoid fever,
and the young surgeon had been called
in. There were other doctors near, but
Latour had not needed the services of
physician before, and he had no one about j
him capable of discriminating between the
rival merits of the neighboring doctors.
Maurice Dean happened to be the nearest,
and to this circumstance alone his presence
was owing. Whether the same confidence
- Ii 81 a
had been known that Gerald Latour was |
the doctors first patient may be considered |
doubtful.
1t was difficult and complicated case,
but Maurice Dean, who had a genuine en- |
thusiasm for his profession and was alive to |
the Importance of not allowing his first case
to slip through his fingers, and Of the lift it |
would be to his reputation to succeed in |
pulling his patient through, left no stone
unturned to achieve success. By ydint of his |
own incessant attention, watching all the |
phases of the malady and experimenting
the nursing, together with Gerald's splendid /
he contrived to pull his patient |
though this involved many a
nights weary watching, when the tiny flick
ering fame of life burnt lower and threat |
ened to vanish outright.
81 owe my life TO you," Gerald cried /
when he was pronounced con-
valescent.
"You must not say that" said Maurice
Dean modestly. "You have your own fine
constitution to thank for your escape"
'That may be. said Gerald; "but a fine
constitution would have served me little if
I had not possessed in you a skilful physi-
,ian and kind friend. shall never for
get nv obligation to you-neveri owe
you nv life, as have said before
eff were superstitious you would make
ne uncomfortable, Maurice Dean replied.
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