The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1890-10-19


and her child aeee.' a long, low fever.
he asked for thera both thsn TO corr
into his lonely life and let him live and
caro- for them. Katherine shraslk frean
the thought at that tirne. Roger Wealth
erly, four years dead, MAS still her hus-
band, albeit not always had he been q
kind husband; and IN startling moInents
Of her married life had she discovered
chat her love for the proud, self conferred
man was not strong and all absorbing aa
when she first knew him. So that his
death was something Of reproach to
her, and that with the final suddennesa
and the pathos of it all benumbed and
terrified her heart; and while there was
not the deepest grief there at his death
there was yet deepest self condemnation,
there was the awe and after loneliness,
all of which combined bore the SEM
blance of deep grief to Katherine's mind
the features of grief without its soul.
So was she held from entertaining the
slightest thought OF love for another.
The very suggestion seemed abhorrent to
her.
Long they sat on this winter day by
the library FIRE, the doctor and Katherine
and little Star in occasional converse,
quiet, subdued. happy to be together.
The little French clock on the mantel
disturbed the serenity Of the room more
than they The child dozed off again,
his fair head pillowed on tho doctors
arm. Van Duyn carried him back to
his little cot, and after covering him soft
and warm, with a touch gentle rs wo-
mans, he led Katherine back to her seat
by the Preside, where he told her the
story of how his days were passed, and
how he was bridging over the present
blank and comfortless-with't the hope
that he might some day win her; that
she had grown SO dear-so dear; and
could she not hold out just little rush.
light Of assurance that some time such a
thing might be possible just faint
gli1nmer that would Light him through
the dreary present. But, no; no she
could not. It must never be. He must
not talk to her of marriage.
ssOh, DIR. Van Duyn,s she cried,
''your coming comforted me SO, but
only to disturb and diaquiet me again.
| thought could rely upon you, my
trusted physician, my friend, and 50
friendless."
Sitting a sob she went on in dry,
even voice:
.sDr. Van Duyn, never again speak OF
this to me. did not call you upon such
an Grand Star shall not fall i'll again
if can prevent it"
Cruel words from those fair lips, words
that cut deep. Overcome with humilia-
ton and contrition, hurt to the quick,
the fervor and tenderness now all gone,
Van Duyn dropped Katherine's hand and
left her side. Not trusting himself to
speak he strobe over to the window
quaint oriel window, through whose dia-
mond shaped panes he could look out on
last years rose garden standing gaunt,
bereft, dead from blasted hopes.
When he could subdue his voice and
his heart he came back to her,
Far be it from me, Katherine Wealth
erly, to presume upon any professional
privilege I may have in SO far rs to
thrust personal matters unwilhngly upon
you. God knows I meant to help carry
your burden, not to impose anything adj
ditional upon you"
He paused moment, deathly pallo1
on his face, his hands firmly locked to-
gether. Approaching her by one step
he added in quiet tone:
katherine, forgive me. had hoped
that perhaps this might be. have
wanted you 80. But believe me when I
All .-a, ~xv;II x,,,--, 1,-+,o-e 49,. =, 41,s.
way again"
Without another word or glance at
her he turned to go. At the outer door
he hesitated. He came back.
Child" he said, in the same con-
strained voice, not his own. promise
me one thing. If you or the child is
i'll You viii call me--promiser'
The tides Of pity and contrition came
sweeping in over her heart, but rallying
with tremendous effort she replied,
with an assumed hghtness:
.'Oh, yes; viii promise that. There
is no other physician at North End, you
know"
He turned full upon her for one long
moment those deep, unfathomable eyes.
His very soul came out to her in that
expression Of wounded love and pride
and stricken hope. She quailed before
that look. She could not brook it.
In another moment he was gone, and,
as in the steely, cold light of the winter
moon, she saw him stride down the snowy
garden path, his broad hat low over his
eyes, his fur coat gathered under his
arm, she began to realize what she had
done. A feeling of loneliness and desc.
lation, which she had not imagined pos.
sible when Van Duyn was present, crept
over her, benumbing and chilling her
heart, while her brain seemed burning
as with fever.
"Why do always treat him SO! Why
am reused to ever oppose that true
heart for whose regard I do care, oh, ]
do carer
Dashing away the rising tears she went
to her child's cot, and, throwing herself
down, buried her hot face deep in the
pillows by his side.
CHAPTER II.
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