The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-11-14

6Ss6S VI bu6 nerves anu UItfih ezao HoSFoA
of private establishment devoted to
the care of the cerebrally afflicted, as ne
quoted from his own prospectus, which l
had afterward the pleasure of peruslng.
confessed somewhat injudioiously that l
had never so much as heard of him before,
but it only furnished him with fresh proof
of my insanity. He wound up a long mon
ologue by telling me that Mrs. Hall was
to call on the morrow to inquire how
was getting on.
"And who may Mrs. Hall bea" asked,
scarce knowing what 1 said, for everything
seemed topsy turvy now
Poor man, poor man, bad easel"
heard him say, sotto voce. HE has even
forgotten his own name" Then aloud,
1.-The lady who accompanied you here,
your wife,
My wife!' shouted.
"Quiet, my dear sir. You forget your
promise
Her name is Stewart" managed to
say quietly, "end. so far frcm her icing
my wife, tsU unmarried, and tomorrow
is my wedding day"
Yes, know. Your good lady has told
us all about that, but perhaps by tomor-
row you will be better and think nothing
more of it,"
would you mind telling me what this
woman has said about me?"
"Who? Mrs. Hall2 Well, she told me
that Mr.. Hall-that is your name, you
know, for it is SO given in the certificates
from two eminent medical men who ex,
amined you-that Mr.. Hall was an ex-
tmplary husband and father and good
eitizen, butt
60 or. can hear anything now"
-tbut eubject to decisions and to par
oxysms of violence. believe that, though
you are a country gentleman, you some
times fancy you are in large business
house, and that people are seeking to
swindle you; also that you are on the eve
of marriage. Is it not so?''
But tomorrow is my wedding day"
ssAh, just what your good lady said.
We will get you round, never fear.
I looked helplessly at the doctor. My
brain was in a whirl. "Just what your,
good lady said.' How did that odious
| schemer learn was to be married on the.
morrow? But inquiry as to that might
we'll stand over. Meanwhile what was T.
| to do to get out of this house and away
from this complacent quack, whom was
| beginning to hate? Obviously must
send for some one to identify me. Mr..
| Spencely, remembered, had late en-
gagement in the city. Ella was manifest
! ~ out of the question. I could not obtrude
such a ridiculous thing upon heron her
| wedding eve too. Between you and me,
reader, think I felt somewhat chary of
| letting her see me in such plight. The
| same consideration made me fight shy of
any of our fellows. 1t would be food for
| jokes for months to come. At last had
| it. would write a brief note to Mr.. Ma
son, our junior principal. He would DO
away from business by this time, but
| messenger would soon 60 to Vim bledon,
| where he lived, and return furnished with
evidence Of my identity, which would also
| be conclusive as to my sanity. DR.. Fitz-
simmons smiled obviously as he took my
| missive
s'Who is this Mr.. Masons' he asked.
"The Junior partner in Spencely & Ma
son, where am employee
H'm-yes, quite SO. !"
He said nothing more, but heard him
dispatch the Messenger, and at last be-
| gan to breathe freely was left to my
| self, and as if in dream began to recall
| one by one the various events of this the
| most'miserable day in my existence, which
| ought to have been one of the happiest. 1t
was now nearly s o'clock. I remembered
| with start that at the employees of our
| firm we're to meet me to present me with
wedding gift, and it would be case of
Hamlet without the prince of Dem
i mark. And what would Ella think?
| was to meet her as soon as the presentation
was over. That, too, was impossible, for I
could not hope to be released in less than
| two hours. recalled, too-and the recol-
lection gave me moments fright-that
she had said to me in her fathers and Ma
sons hearing, in jest, of course:
II you stay too long with your chums,
Harry, l shall conclude that You do not
want me next day.
was doomed to stay too long, but not
even the widest fight of Imagination could
have converted DR.. Fitzsimmons into a
chum Of anybody. However, Mason would
make all right, and everything would be
properly explained, and all would yet go
merry as marriage bell.
The messenger dispatched to Wimbledon
returned at last. Ny straining ears could
detect that the Doctor met him at the door,
and that hurried colloquy took place in
the hall. I put on my gloves and hat and
was ready to start as the doctor entered.
'sMy man has seen Mr.. Mason, 2 he said,
anu ne assures MIN ne never n6aFu Oh you
before-knows nothing at all about you. I"
Here was thunderclap. I began at
length to think that 1 must be subject to
delusions, to wonder if Mrs. Hall could
| possibly be my wife, and, if SO, who in
the world myself was felt that THAT
way madness lay and sought to collect
| my scattered senses. The doctor was SYM
| pathetic, after fashion, but his evident
| pride in the correctness of his diagnosis
| gave him too much the look of one who
would say, Now, didn't tell you so?"
| too much, mean, for my equanimity.
| Acting on his suggestion, tried to swai-
low mouthful of supper, for had tasted
| nothing since morning but it was in vain.
| retired to bed and had the very qualified
satisfaction of hearing more than one door
carefully locked upon me and of feeling
| that, if I could not get out, there was lit
| tie chance of any unauthorized person get
ting in to disturb me.
Sleep was Of course out of the question.
| Every passing step ia the square made me
start from my recumbent position. heard
| every hO11r strike all thral1ph the night