Morning journal and courier., 1889-09-27

head. The "sister" of the ward to which Dock had been taken shook her head. ''I am afraid for him, poor little manl He is very | thin and delicate to begin with, it seems. | Yes, you can see him if you like, but he is l scarcely conscious even now" Esley made arrangements for Dock to have | private ward, and then went up to the bed | on which the injured boy was lying. So still and white. All that unceasing ac- as by miracle. As the soldier looked silently at the mo- | tionless head on the pillow, strange emo- tion thrilled him, for there was @ remini- ! scence of another face in Docks which baf- fled his remembrance to grasp it quite com pletely. And yet that resemblance was very strong, although he could not remember ever having noticedit before tonight. What could it beg He went home to the Albany, oddly haunt ed by it. The following morning he passed the Eleusfs Theater, and stopped to look at life sized portrait of great actress exhibited outside. It represented her in the tragic part she was then playing, and its set look of pale despair was thrillingly like the beautiful woman it represented. Esley knew her we'll Once he had had a passing passion for her, which had subsided into steady friendship on her marriages change of feeling in accordance with his char acter. Like Rachel, she was known on the stage only by one name. It was her second baptis- nal name, Joyce and she was spoken of by it alone, like the great Frenchwoman. Now, looking at the portrait, Esley was suddenly seized by strange fancy. The ar- tiss had suppressed the lines that gave char acter to the living woman's face, and the DOT trait showed younger beauty than was really hers.
 Turning round, he suddenly faced the ac- < tress herself coming into the theater. "Looking at my portraita" she said, the sad look of her face lighting up with charm ing smile. HIt is a long time since you have been to see the original. When are you com ing againa My husband told me he met you at the club the other night, ,and that you were | looking ill."
 He regarded her with singular intentness before he replied: 'I will come when you | have no other visitors. want to see you ! particularly about something" ! Der her engagements. twill Tuesday doa 1 At o'elocks Or any time here during ! the third act, when I am not on the stage, | you know. I am late for rehearsal, I must | go now"
 They parted
 On Sunday morning, Esley arriving at the l- hospital, encountered shabby figure
 on the doorstep, and, finding himself sd- | dressed in husky voice, with strong cock | ney accent to boot, looked at the features
 of the speaker. It was Turtle, with the most woe, begone expression on his Prema- ! turely sharpened face. His lips qufvered | ominously.
 "Was you goin' to see Dock, sira" he | asked, jerking his thumb toward the win ! dows above them, but avoiding the colonel's
 eye: Esley kindly.
 Turtle wrestled manfully with rising sobs before he answered savsgely; "No, ain'tl I 1 arxed to iis' now, and was told as couldn't see lem. I 'spose they thort 'adnt no busi- 1 ness to want to see pal" he added, looking
 down at the extremely shabby, much -mended | neither garments which were replaced on days by his newspaper" uniform. The ! deficiencies of his private wardrobe were now painfully apparent.
 'sI'll take you in with me, said Esley smil-
 ing. "You're Docks great chum aren't youi l I've seen you together"
 Turtle nodded sullenly, still smarting with wounded pride.
 The door was opened by a smart maid, who ! instantly admitted the colonel, and unwill- | ingly tolerated his disreputable appendage with covert looks of scorn, which Turtle re- l paid by glaring defiance behind the colonels l back.
 I | where Dock now lay, Esley spoke aside to l the nurse, who shook her head mournfully.
 Turtle sprang toward the bed, regardless of the strangers present. and said hoarsely:
 "Dook, I say! Little 'uul" | The dark brown eyes were suddenly lit up ! by struggling light of loving recognition, ,and the pale lips moved slightly, although they ! gave no sound.
 "Don't yer know me, Dooka It's yer old pal," and catching Docks thin little hand as | 1t lay loose on the blue coverlet in the strong
 grasp of his coarse red hand, Turtle hurried
 bles for yer in one of my pawkits, and shil- | lini"
 ! Diving into the innermost recesses of his l capacious trouser pockets Turtle with dif6- l culty brought to the surface the above men,
 tioned valuables and laid them on the bed. The sister came forward as Dock murmured
 some inaudible words.
 "Wot's he a-sayin'a can't 'ear," said
 Turtle, looking jealously at her across the
 bed.
 ssHe's only rambling; he doesn't know you," said the sister kindly, laying her hand
 softly on the little sufferers hot head, from
 which all the brown curls had been cut
 away.
 l "Doesn't know mel" exclaimed Turtle in
 tone of angry surprise and pain. 'Not l know me, as-why, if he don't know me
 Dock, little pal, it's Turtle. Don't you know
 mel" he added in tone of entresting an | guish, that went to the hearts of both his
 hearers. He fought with himself for @ moment manfully, his ugly face convulsed
 with the effort, then hinging himself on his
 knees beside the bed with one arm across his friend, he burst into an agony of tears and
 sobs.
 Esley gently took him by the arm and
 would have drawn him away, but suddenly
 Dock partly raised himself with faint smile,
 and feebly laid his thin hand on Turtles dis
 hevelled head.
 It wandered lower till it rested on the
 boys neck and was joined there by his other
 hand.
 The two boys' faces met in one long kiss
 made sacred by the shadow of an eternal
 parting, and the glory of @ love stronger than
 death.x
 Col Esley and lady came together out of @ squalid block of buildings representing the
 homes of a hundred or so of her majesty's
 subjects.
 .Will you go to see him nows" said Esley
 gently.
 Tears were rolling down the face of the
 great actress, whose name was figuring on all
 the boardings and walls in London, whose
 career was the object of 80 much adulatiNn and passionate envy to thousands. !: "How can ever forgive myselff' she mur-
 mured brokenly. "To think of his suffering all these years, while Ito think-yes let me , go now, if 1t is not too late."
 They took cab and were driven rapidly away from the noisome slums, into which they had penetrated for the first time. } Joyces history was sad enough. She had , run away from home in her early girlhood and made a mad marriage with an actor, which broke her parents hearts. Taking to the life of strolling player her. E self she found the baby soon born to the young couple a practical difficulty, which could only be solved one way; by parting from it as soon as possible. E The little creature was accordingly confd-
 ed to the care of woman at whose country ) lodgings Joyce and her husband had stayed 2 during one of their provincial engagements with touring company of actors. The actyesa like many othera in the aame me