The representative. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1893-1901, 1894-07-04
A BROKEN SWORD.
BY J. H. SYMES.
A Complete Story.

women who had renounCed the pleasures OF
this world for the trying and dangerous du-
ties of hospital nursing
Sister Clarice was q mystery to me from
the first. She different to the ladies
who came to us. They, rule, were
sad; some recent trouble or wrong had
revealed to them the hollowness and fleet
ing nature of mundane things, and in the
fit of detection that follows, they Joined u.s.
Others came actuated by strong religious
feelings; they We're grave But Sister Clar-
ice was neither grave nor sad indeed
whenever patient needed cheering up.
the task was always allotted to her, and
she never failed.
To the physiog lomist her face was
study. At glance one could see that long
ago some great sorrow must have swept
across her life; and yet the calm that
sometimes follows such a storm and makes
the evening of a wrecked life so beautiful
was hers. Her hair was white-silvery
whte-and contrasted strangely with her
quick, youthful movements and graceful
grlish figure.
Even the way she came to I'M
usual The chief physician sitting in
his room one morning. A lady desired to
speak to him; she was admitted. Briefly
she stated that she wished to join the staff
of nurses attached to the hospital. She
had no experience of the duties but
willing to come for time as probationer
and in the event of her permanent appoint
ment, she was prepared to make over her
small fortune TO the funds of the institu-
ton. The matter was laid before the COM
mittee at their next meeting Sister Clarice
was admitted, and, after a brief service
a proba toner, became resident member
of the nursing staff. She proved excel
lent nurse, and though but fragile wo
man, had stronger nerves, and could endure
fatigue better, than many who were more
robust. 1t mattered not what was the duty
the operating theater, the accident or
fever ward-Sister Clarice was ever ready
with deft, gentle hard and cheerful smile.
In the course of a few months she became
our most valued nurse, for she was devot-
ed to her work and naturally quick at
learning. For nearly five years she worked
without days illness. Unlike the rest of
our nurses, Sister Clarice seldom went out.
Her outdoor exercise was confined to walks
in the grounds of the hospital which were
beautifully laid out; there, among the flow
ers and convalescent patients she spent
some time daily. During the time she was
at ST Luke's no one called to see her, eX-
cepting grateful patients who owed their
lives to her good nursing l often thought
1t strange that she had no friends in the
world, but such appeared to be the case,
for she never received any letters; indeed,
we did not know her name; en-
tering she expressed wish to be called
Sister Clarice, and by that name alone was
known to us.
l heard her history at last from source
whence l least expected it-her own lips.
rIOHl the ITSC she naQ Deen attracted to
me by the resemblance to a dear friend she
had lost long ago; still, there was never
any exchange of condolences between us
until the end of her fifth year at ST. Luke's
AT that time there a severe outbreak
of typhus fever in Paris, and Sister Clarice
had volunteered to take charge of one of
the wards in the isolate fever hospital.
She was only to leave us for little while
she said, but we were all sorry to, lose her
II for only few weeks, and there was the
danger of losing her forever for of all
fevers typhus is probably the most infec-
t1ous. The evening before she entered
on her dangerous duty, she came to me and
said:
DIR. Gerome, I have a great favor to
ask you. You may not be aware that T am
presentiment that 1 shall take the fever.
and that this will be my last spell of
nursing"
But protested, cit is not too late for
you to withdraw"
Not for worlds she replied, with a
smile. 1T is not that, and, indeed, nv
fears may be groundless; but if anything
happens to me, 1 want you to promise that
you will carry out my last request. 1t is
that the contents of a packet l will leave
In your keeping shall be buried with me
You will promise me this, and ask no uues-
tions. We have been friends always"
l promised faithfully to carry out any
wish she might have. She thanked mo
and turned to leave the room. On reaching
the door she paused, hesitated for mo-
ment, and then returned to me. Laying her
hand on my arm she said:
Il should like to tell you a chapter of my
She sat down, unused for n little while
and then said:
twenty years ago "a young actress from
the provinces took Paris by storm. Her
name was Gerard-Clarice Gerard. All,
Doctor GerOme, you are puzzled Well I
CldriCp 7 tbo
round of the ladder in a travelling
company, and worked my way up to en-
gagement leading lady at the Coincide
Francaise. All! it Is a glorious profession,
ana loved the music. the applause and the
glare OF the footlights. People said there
was an intensity and force about my acting
l know l felt the parts l played deeply
There Is. of course, the reverse side to
theatrical life, the temptations are very
great but, thank God, escaped them.
" was a great change for me-that life
IN Paris l went into society a. great deal
though not from choice. l recited at AT
Homes In many of the fashionable salons.
and met most of the celebrities of the day.
The poets of the time sang my praises and
some famous artists painted my portrait in
the characters loved best. All these things
did not turn my head or make me vain, for
l was engrossed with my beloved profess
sion; 1t occupied most of my time and all
my thoughts, and l was happy. Of course
1 was subject to the petty annoyances in
cldental to the profession of an actress
anonymous presents, offers of marriage
from unknown but ardent admirers and
the arrows of critics, who look only for
1aults, ana forget that we are but human
ana therefore cannot be perfect The pre
sents and the critics were the less serious
or my troubles l made rule to sell tho
nrst and give the proceeds to some deserv
ing CHARITY; | laughed at the second, and
otherwise needed them not, for 1 always did
my best. But the lovers were no laughing
matter. Ny first serious affaire de occur
occurred in Italy, whittier our manager
had taken the company a brief summer
tour. 1t was at Genoa that q young Italian
of noble birth, Cartesi by name. saw me
and fell in love at first sight. He managed
TO procure an introduction, and from that
moment l had no peace. l may tell Won
That the passion was all on his side for I in
stinctively dislked him from our first meet
ing. l could see conceit in his affected air
and mode of dress, pride in his bearing and
manner, and cruelty in his thin lips and
the cold glitter of his eyes. l determined to
treat him with Indifference and keen him
at distance; it was, in one sense q DIFF
ncu!t task, for he was most persistent in
Forcing his company upon me whenever we
met. fortunately, / was at last relieved OF
MS presence. He was an expert swords,nan
and-the two things often go together-of a
quarreisome disposition. A dispute at the
gaming table in which he killed his adver
sary, VINO was man of some importance
and many years older than Cartesi. nuhlic
Inauguration was aroused, and my admirer
had 10 seek safety in seclusion for n time
until the affair was forgotten I was nanny
again. A few weeks later our companv re-
turned TO Paris, and, in the excitement of
Ienearsals of new play, 1 soon forgot
Cartesi. oA ioisot