Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1891-08-14

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GRAFT.
NUMBER TWENTY-NINE"
The vast mud-colored building doomed
out of the fog as the doctors brougham
drew up, with a jerk, under the portico.
Against the dark lining of the carriage the
set face of a man inside was visible by the
light of a portable lamp. It was the face
of a man whose mind is not at ease. There
wore irritable folds at the corners of the
restless look in the keen eyes,
even as they travelled over the page he was
reading. Sir Kenneth Brandon only shut
his book as he stepped out and entered the
Whitechapel hospital. The doctor always
read as he drove about London from one
consultation to another. It was his habit
to allow himself no leisure for idle
thoughts.
Sir Kenneth Brandon was one of the few
London doctors whose names are familiar
abroad. He had made one big discovery,
he had done great deal of useful work,
and at fifty he was already making large
income. His recent knighthood was popu-
lar-not only among his patients, but
among his professional brethren-and his
dinners were among the incest in town.
And yet many people-and, who knowsf
perhaps Sir Kenneth himself-missed a
hostess smile, woman's winning phrases,
at his brilliant dinner table in Wimpole
street. Sometimes-if ever he had had
time to think-perhaps the great physician
~ Il 1,o I1oJ
pered, foolish wife, whom he had scolded
and neglected in the old days; the child
for she was little more-who had finally
left their dingy suburban villa for good:
the girl he might have saved before it was
too late-for at first she had left his house
after one of their miserable, sordid SQUAD
bles. and had gone back to her father, and
it was only after humiliating scene with
her husband that she had finally disap-
peared.
She had disappeared, and she had never
come back. The police had been unable
to find trace of her, beyond that she had
at first gone to Spain with some man who
was unknown to him. After that all was
a blank. To all intents and purposes his
wife was as one who is dead. Yet the en-
differing quarrels of those early years; his
severity when he should have been lenient;
his carelessness when he ought to have
watched over the foolish young life that he
had sworn to cherish and protect-were
facts which, though he seldom allowed
himself to think of them, had left their
trace written On the great physicians face.
Inside the large hall, where a marble
statue of the queen doomed chilly out of
the vague half light, lady was already
waiting for him--a fair, high bred face,
with something of the look of student,
by slightly bored air, such as
is often seen in cultivated woman of the
world. Lady Sibthorpe was widow OF
leisure, and was internationally interested
in a variety of questions. She occasion
ally wrote a short article for one of the
monty reviews, preferring such topics as
do not usually commend themselves to the
more tender hearted sex, for she by no
means posed as a philanthropist, and was
understood to have views little in adj
vance of those of the British matron. Just
now, for instance, she was interested in
the hospital question, and at dinner
party the night before Sir Kenneth had
to explain the internal work
ing of the "Whitechapel." The doctor
never missed an opportunity of being use
full to Lady Sibthorpe She was just the
woman he would have asked to be his
wife, if only
They met as people meet who are more
than interested in each other. For some
time past Lady Sibthorpe had known that
he liked her, and for some time past she
had almost made up her mind that she
might accept him. But there was no hurry;
they were both of certain age; they both
had their occupations, their affairs. And
now they turned up the stone staircase to-
gether on their way to the women's wards
Lady Sibthorpe paused for an instant as
they passed the operating theater. The
doors were closed. Outside two porters
were waiting with stretcher. Suddenly
the door was pushed ajar, and then there
was a vision of anxious, interested faces,
lit up by strong glare of gas; of nurses
back bending forward and of a surgeons
face blowing spray on to something that
was invisible. Over all an intense silence,
broken only by the hoarse whispers of the
porters with the stretcher, wondering how
long they would have to wait.
Lady Sibthorpe was not emotional, but
she shivered little as she passed on.
In the Catherine ward" the fifty blue
coverleted beds effaced themselves in the
gloom of the long room. Here and there
the freight illumined the bland, unemo-
tional features of a nurse under her smooth
hair and white cap-the sexless features OF
a woman who has learned to witness suf-
fering without a sign.
On seeing Sir Kenneth Brandon Sister
Catherine, a long nosed woman with bright
eyes, hurried forward as superintendent OF
the ward.
The doctor introduced the two women to
each other, and for a while Lady Sibthorpe,
notebook in hand, was absorbed with sta
tistics.
"Now take me round to your patients,
Sir Kenneth" she said when she had done.
Sister Catherine moved forward, pro-
fessional look on her bright face. They
stopped at every bed. Lady Sibthorpe
asked questions in a business like way,
and Sir Kenneth, whose hospital manner"
was proverbial, addressed the patients in
the same tone he would have employed to
a duchess. His way with women was one
of the things for which he was justly IA
NOUS. They had come to the end of one
line of beds, and were now turning up the
other side of the room.
''We have new patient there, Sir Ken
neth," said the sister. HNumber twenty
nine. A hopeless case-the last stage of
aggravated by want and
dirt. They brought her in from one of the
common lodging houses. Poor creature,
she was in terrible state when she came"
'Indeedl" calculated the great physician
in his sympathetic voice.
All three approached the bed. The pa
TENTS back was turned TO them, but, as
steps approached, she tossed over and lay
on her back, her weakly vicious face, with
its flush of color on each cheek bone, look
ing sharply emaciated against the white
ness of the pillow. There were streaks OF
gray in the dark hair, and the eyes-dull,
slaty eyes, which had once been blue-were
bloodshot and red lidded.
Sir Kenneth leaned forward, and their
eyes met in long stare. The years seemed
to roll away. The DOCTORS heart stood
still Great Godl Could this horrible
wreck of womanhood be his wife3 And
was she going to speak? It was an odious
But No. 90 only laughed-an unmirthfal,
coarse and empty laugh. "Oh, Lord! Are
you here?" she muttered, and tossed over.
The doctor drew a long breath; he had
grown a little paler before he spoke. 'Poo1
creature; she mistakes me for some one
else They often do at the last he Whis