Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-03-23
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.


warped and embrutalized. Don'tyou think
Pierce" she continued, after Wharton had
received this remark in silence, "that Mark
is getting just little hard?'
"He is a dear, good fellow" Wharton
answered, with gush of feeling.
'fWell /, as his sister, am likely to be-
lieve that, but you do not answer my ques-
tion. Don't you think that this life, cut off
from all humanizing society, is making him
hard? Not to me or you, of course, and
least of all TO little Marcia, of whom he is
passionately fond. But isn't there some
thing that is quite different from what it
used to be? I fear don't express myself
well; but that is because the thing mean
is so intangible, like the atmosphere; yet
like the atmosphere it is there. Don't you
think so?
81 think you are troubling yourself quite
uselessly, Alice. Mark is different from
| other men. He is what we call sui generis.
L don't mean to dispute that he is wonder
| fully absorbed in his profession, lives for it
one might saw, and that makes him natural
what you call hard"
THAT is scarcely nv meaning" Mrs.
Wharton answered. 81 feel as if my broth
er was not morally as good man as he used
! to be, nor as he promised to be when he was
at Harrow, though was only a little thing
then and perhaps not competent to judge of
! boys character"
"Oh, none of us are as good as we were
when we were schoolboys, if it comes to
that, said Wharton, with laugh.
Don't you set up for cynic, Pierce, it
does not become you" said Mrs. Wharton,
with tone of offense in her voice. Her
husbands reply grated on the finer sensi-
bilities of the woman.
After this the conversation drifted away
to lighter topics. and an hour slipped by
since Howgate summoned the doctor.
''I think shall go and see what has be-
come of Mark, said Wharton, rising with
yawn.
Just then Howgate reappeared, saying,
''The doctor would like to see you IN his
room if you are at liberty, Mr. Wharton.
Wharton went.
"How is your patient, Howgate?" aske
Mrs. Wharton, OBTAINING the man by
| gesture.
"He is all right again now. ma'am,"
Howgate replied. ''The attack has passed
| off,
When Wharton reached the doctors
room Westlake saluted him in his gayest
manner. "Well, old fellow, the time has
come when you must die.''
Pierce Wharton started back in alarm.
Something entirely unexpected has hap
pened that will agree with our plans most
admirably
And then the doctor entered into long
explanation, to show that an unlooked-for
event had indeed occurred that promised
well for the scheme.
'You see how it is, Wharton" he con-
| cluded. Nothing could have been better
than this if we had prayed for it. So make
up your mind; you must die tonight.
Wharton's brow grew black as thunder,
| but he uttered no word of protest.
| There was a merry dinner party in the
doctors dining room that night. Mrs. Whar-
| ton was wheeled from the cottage to the Re
treat, bringing Marcia with her, who was
| allowed to sit up for a treat. The doctor
surpassed himself for the brightness of his
wit, and Mrs. Wharton, unsuspecting of
the sword that was hanging over her, took
| up the game of repartee, while Marcia
clapped her hands with glee, and Wharton
himself, who had grown wonderfully taci-
turn since the interview with the doctor in
his room, caught the prevailing infection
and laughed joyously.
Immediately after dinner Mrs. Wharton
was wheeled back to the cottage, taking
! Marcia with her. SIT is time that Marcia
was in bed" she said.
Late at night-the church clock at Cor
lington had struck 10 long ago-the doctor
paid hurried visit to the cottage Mrs.
| Wharton had retired for the night, but
when she heard her brother knock at the
bedroom door she gave him permission to
! enter.
"Don't be alarmed, Alice the doctor
said. "Pierce has met with an accident. 1t
| is not very serious. But we are going to
| bring him upstairs and put him to bed in
the next room; and L thought it best to
come and explain matters, so that you need
| not worry yourself at the noise in carving
him upstairs, or wonder at his absence"
Mark, you are not deceiving me?" ex-
claimed Mrs. Wharton, with alarm.
"When did 1 ever deceive my sister?''
! was the diplomatic reply.
The doctor, though looking thoughtful,
was nevertheless cheerful, and Mrs. Whar-
ton fell back on her pillow contented. But
as she lay awake and heard the noise that
was made in carrying the burden upstairs
| her fears again took alarm, and it needed
all the doctors powers of persuasion 10 in
duce his sister to accept his assurances that
the sick man would be all right in the
\ morning.
Mrs. Wharton was pacifed at last, but
| could not sleep, and when morning came
| she was unable to rise. One of her periodic
attacks of nervous debility prostrated her
| the result OF the injury to her spine acting
1 IL
Languid though she was with suffering, she
insisted upon seeing her brother, and when
the doctor entered her apartment she fixed
her gaze very steadily upon his face and
demanded to know how her husband was.
| The doctor, seeing the effect of the preced-
ing nights agitation, and judging that with
a nature like Mrs. Wharton's suspense was
| the greater of two evils, told her quietly
that Wharton was dead.
L l.
widow was too stunned for tears. A shiver
oonvulsed her frame, shaking the bed on
which she was lying, and that. was all. In
| few moments she gathered courage to ask /:
''This is appallingly sudden, what has he
died from?"
Cerebral apoplexy. You see," the doc
] tor went on to explain, 'he would take
/ those long walks in the sun, and yesterday
was the hottest day we have had. The sun
was too much for him, and that and the
hearty dinner he ate last evening produced
| the mischief"
when did he die?''
'tLast night. He was dead when 1 came
! to you, but would not tell you then, lest
the shocking news should disturb your
rest"
"I must see him before he is buried :" said
Mrs Wharton, after a long time, in which
she Law thinking and endeayoring, though
1 with Indifferent success, to realize her great
calamity.
ST would advise you not" the doctor
returned promptly. "You see he has died
in the fulness OF life, as it were, and besides
his face is very much distorted. Greater
changes will supervene in the next "a hours,
| If the weather continues as it is at present,
and you are not in fit condition to rise to-
day. Take my advice, Alice, cultivate the
memory OF your husbands living presence,
and do not spoil that by seeing him so sadly
| changed"
| fixed to take place in Gorlington church.
| yard on the following Monday. DIR. West
lake had informed his sister Of her widow
hood on "Wednesday.