The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1890-07-17

"Can L help you?' Alice Hunter
asked.
"No, child, not now"
"What will the7 do with him."
81 suppose he must so to hospital"
"But the ride-the Journey"
"Will cause great additional suffering,
perhaps result in death"
doctor, will they keep him here if he
is paid for3"
"Certainly; but there is not money
enough about him to pay his board a
week"
81 will pay it."
"You2"
eyes; I will not let him die for want
of money 1 have. He" and her lips
ouivcred, "he looks like my dear father
who is deadi"
"Hem-ycs. Here come the follow
ers to carry him to the station. think
will have him taken to the house where
I board. 1t will cost less and be more
quiet"
Mrs. Courtland declared Alice was
outraging the proprietics most dread
fully when the young girl went to the
house and offered her services as nurse to
the doctor; but Aunt Sophy silenced all
comment by moving her belongings from
the hotel to the quiet boarding house,
and the doctor found he had valuable
assistant.
Alice explained, in her quiet, low
voice, that her father was i'll for nine
long months before he died and she was
his nurse. This accounted for the noise
less wooden dress, the velvet-shod feet,
the quick eye and ready hand, and when
the sufferer recovered consciousness the
gentle voice and tact that quieted him
in paroxysms of pain and fever. Aunt
Sophy was too much of an invalid her
self to help; but she sat beside the bed
while Alice moved to and fro, and per.
formed all nurse duties.
The invalid had one long talk with the
doctor, aud then submitted to the gentle
of the two women, only in
sisting upon a man the doctor provided
being with him at night and within call.
The season was over, and only these
three remained of the summer boarders
at the house, when one cool October day,
the sick man, now fast recovering called
Alice to him.
II shall soon be we'll again. he said,
eyes," she answered cheerily; every
soon."
81 shall miss my nurse"
sand my patient; but I am glad you
are recovering. We were afraid at one
time there would be more painful part
ing"
"You mean I was in danger of dying.
Why should that be painful2 am DID,"
She made no answer, looking sorrow
fully into his uplifted eyes.
"Aud a burden upon you, the doctor
tells me. Why did you make yourself
for stranger2
The fair face flushed, the soft eyes
were dewy with feeling, as Alice said
softly. "Because you're old and seemed
poor and friendlcss. l was glad it was
n my power to aid you. DO not think
it was at any great COST" she added with
, generous desire to Tighten the burden
Of obligation. ~ have some money
lying idle.
"For the wcdding-day, perhaps.
Well, child, you might have poorer
jewels to deck your bridal than an old
mans tears of gratitude and love. I am
getting well and shall soon leave you.
Will you give me keep-sake?"
The girl loosencd little locket from
, chain round her throat, cut off one Of
her golden curls and put it in the place
Of some hair she took out, and laid the
trinket in the old mans hand.
"With my love-" she said, softly.
"Ah, child" he sighed, "an old man
sick and feeble wins little love-"
Yet" she said, earnestly, "you must
believe that have nursed you since you
were conscious with affection. My own
father is gone, but if ever you want
daughters care or affection, believe me,
I will gladly come to you if possible"
Three days later the house was deserted.
Aunt Sophy and Alice returned to their
home, and Alice cheerfully paid out of
her small patrimony for the board and ex-
penses Of her venerable patient.
She little guessed how deep an impress
sion her care and tenderness had made
upon the heart so long closed against
human affection, so distrustful of any ad-
vanceS from his fellow creatures. 1t was
q revelation to him, this active charity
to an utter stranger. He had gone
to the hotel merely to see Malcolm's
choice, and had purposcly left all clue of
his identity behind him. He had in
tended meeting Alice, if possible, un-
known and watching her unobscrvcd;
but accident had thrown them together
in way he little anticipated. The first
use he made of his recovery was to write
to his nephew, and Malcolm met him at
the station when he returned home.
Knowing nothing of the recent acci
dent, the young man was shocked at tho
change in his uncles face.
"You have been ill2" he cried.
"Vcry ill.,"
"Why did you not send for me2"
II had even better nursing than yours,
Malcolm. Don't ask me any questions
now, but tell me about your marriage
preparations.
"Alicc has gone home and will remain
until November. Then she comes to
Mrs. Haydon's, and will buy her furni-
turc.
"In NoYembsra,.