Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-09-26

him every day.
/ was about TO sit the child down, bur
something-some feeling l cannot define
impelled me to hold him closer, TO looE
into his face-his eyes-more scrutinizing
ly than l had ever done. And so looking
l shuddered at the thought that then as
sailed me- Great powers! Could fate bt
so cruel? Had Heaven no pity for this
poor mother, who. so young, had already
borne enough of sorrow? / put the boy
down quickly and turned away.
Perhaps-perhaps after all, / may have
been mistaken
reached London and DR.. BIS resi-
dence that evening. and my worthy reIa
tive quickly explained the object Of his
summons. He wished me to undertake
with his supervision, a case requiring the
utmost care and consideration; one which
rendered it necessary that medical man
should reside for 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.
I accepted the munificent conditions of.
arrival in town was driven to Lord Wei
bury's house in Belgravia, and entered up.
on the duties of nv post.
For some days and nights my RESPONSE.
bilities absorbed all my attention The
life of the sick man hung on a thread; my
medical capacity was taxed to it's utmost
[ knew not, nor cared not, for the time be
ing, what went on outside that chamber
is.sr. sod
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
I sane?"
''Your mind has never been affected ]
answered, unhesitatingly. 'Your lordship
Is as sane as l am"
Good. Therefore will made by me
now could not be made invalid?"
'Most certainly not on the ground of in
competency"
''Then my will 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 herr
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 unawares:
! but they were fatal words, as the result
proved.
IT beg your pardon" I added, seeing
surprise and some annoyance written on
his face
"Not at all, he answered, courteously.
II suppose you are acquainted with my
family affairs, for they are no secret. /
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 an empty title [
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 if you did not even know he was in
the house.
"Was your sons name Charles-that of
the girl he married Una?" l 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.
Eyes. But why these questionsr'
| | knew he was well enough now to hear
the truth, therefore answered: Because
it is my belief your lordship's son is dead.
/ will relate to you a sad story; when
have finished you will be able to judge
whether or not you are concerned in it, -
| Then [ told, as briefly as / could, the Croft
| house tragedy; and as | did So read in the
! eyer-increaSing interest with which he
listened to my tale that my suspicious
! were correct.
! That the man had to deal with was of
proud, egotistical, and unsympathetic
nature [ was well aware; that the death
of his only son would not vitality affect him
[ had rightly guessed but I was scarcely
prepared for the interest he displayed on
learning of the existence of his grandchild.
The better nature of the man seemed
touched. I spoke of little Charles beauty,
his likeness to his father-even limited at
a resemblance to Lord Welbury himself.
! With the feverish impatience of an invalid
he demanded that the boy should be sent
for at once.
"He cannot live without his mother
The two lives are bound together as one -
"Then write to the mother and bid her
bring him. was the imperious reply And
the speaker turned his face away as though
to intimate ti1at no more was to be said
The affair was settled.
On quitting the room I encountered a
nurse leading smiling, rosy little urchin
clad in velvet and rich lace.
| ''Speak prettily to the kind doctor,
| George" said the nurse. "This is the lit
tie heir, SIR" she whispered to me.
Three days later Mrs. Wilton-I must
still call her so-and her son arrived I
met them at the station, and took them in
one of his lordship's carriages to the
house. The boy, exhausted apparently by
the journey, was asleep when he entered
it; he was still sleeping when his mother
carried him across the threshold of Lord
Welbury's door.
| His lordships reception of her was not
ungracious. Could he feel touched at sight
of this gentle, beautiful young creature
who had loved his son so well! But it
was evident he resented the fact that his
| grandson, whom he had especially desired
to welcome. could not be prevailed upon
to notice him, or enticed to leave his
mothers arms.
Excuse him; he is so tired" pleaded
the young mother, reading the disappoint-
ment on her father-in-law's face.
"Well, we'll Off to bed with him, then.
Bring him to me bright and smiling in the
morning
| Bright and smiling! Somehow the words
| struck me-eyen haunted me-they were
so totally inapplicable to Charlie I tried
/ to remember if l had ever seen a smile
upon that grave baby face, but tried in
| vain.
| When l entered Lord Welbury's room
Eext day-my presence there at nights YVES
| now dispensed with-the old man, in
| dressing gown and slippers, was reclining
| IN an easy chair. In front of him stood
/ Mrs. Wilton, with Charlie clinging to heI