The progress., 1890-11-29
me, and apparently somebody kept

IL HaHukercnleI, DuI nOLnlnH 10 give
any clew to the identity Of my pa
tient and unlimited guest.
4 will not enter into the details of
the injuries that excited my interest
as physician and surgeon, as much
as they called for my sympathy as a
man. There were complications in
the case that called upon all my skill
and knowledge. and the patient en-
durance OF great suffering made me
respect my unfortunate guest from
the first.
1T was nearly q fortnight before
he recovered from the brain injury
sufficiently to speak distinctly:
When the sufferer could speak hetold
me that his name was Fanshawe but
said nothing more of himself, and |
supposed him unwilling to confess to
poverty and the inability to pay me
Tor my services.
Il dc not take much credit to my
self for my hospitality or devotion.
because was SO deeply interested in
the case professionally considered,
that would have lived on bread
and water rather than have it taken
out Of my hands.
As he became stronger. my patient
became my friend, aud interested me
deeply by the variety and deptl OF
his information, his experience sof
travel and charms OF conversation.
Not until he was conyalescent and
had been an inmate OF my house for
four months did know that he was
a man OF wealth, living in the house
/ now occupy.
TO cure him was beyond human
skill but through two years at
tended him, alleviating great ui1er-
ing and often accepting his invita-
tions to o"spend IN hour or two with
u lonely old man.
When he died lie left me bis entire
fortune, which supposed TO be mine
only because he hfld no direct heirs
or near relatives! He had never
spoken but once Of his family, and
then said briefly that he was a widow
cr and had lost his only child.
II had enjoyed my inheritance for
more than nine years, when tell III
love. /, who had never cared Tor fe-.
male society before, became deeply
attached to tile mother Of one OF my
patients, lady nearly my own age,
the widow of ain artist, who died IN
Rome some four or five years before
| met her. She had sent for me to
see her boy, an only child, slowly
dying with an incurable disease Of
the spine.
''NIrs.. Eastwell knew before she
saw me that there was no hope of
saving the chld's life, but she
. thought | could ease the pain and
res ttessness from which he suffered
She was herself an artist, working III
water colors for the large stores that
dealt in fancy goods, and embroider-
ing most exquisitely. But her child
claimed much Of her time and atten-
tion. land / know she worked in
hours when she should have shared
the boys slumbers.
"Patient, selfsacrifcing, gentle
and refined. She filed my ideal OF
pure womanhood. and | loved. her
with all the strength of the first love
| OF years. | gave her mans devo-
ton, not, a boys infatuation. But |
knew that it was useless for me to
speak while the child lived. She
would have thought it sacrilege to
give my love consideration while the
mother love in her heart was the
ruling spirit. ve-making while
her child was dying! could see how
she would shrink from the mere sug-
gestion.
/ $50 tried to be content with win
ming the place of trusted friend, deli
cately trying to make my presence
q comfort and help to her and doing
all that / could to make smoother
the hard path the childish feet were
pressing.
Zone afternoon she came to my
office to ask some questions about
the little boy, and, as. the waiting
room was full took her through tht
parlor to the front door. As w
passed by the mantelpiece OF th'
front room she suddenly gave a cry
OF pain and surprise, stopping shor1
before lifesize, portrait of Mr.. Fan
SnaWe. Tier lacet was WHlIe' lie
whole form trembling, and before
could catch her, she gave one cry Q
.Father' and dropped in a dea'
faint"
1T was the old story, Tom. Sh
had loved her husband better, thar
her father, and eloped with him
never winning forgiveness Th
, home she had left was broken up an
Mr.. FansIawe removed to anothe
city, SO that for years she had no
Y known where to find him and had nev