The evening times., 1895-08-24
ONE WHO WAS LOYAL
The Story Of Deathbed and of Sc
cret the Doctor Could Not Guess.

OlNA WIN WIZ .O TIL
The Story Of a Deathbed and of u Sc
cret the Doctor Could Not Guess.
How is he to-day, nurse?"
There has been no change. Once in the
night there seemed an improvement, but
it was only nomentary, and he has re-
niained just as you see him now. Perhaps
l was mistaken even them
She spoke with the calm, matter-offact
preciseness of her calling, and watched
In respectful silence while the doctor made
his wonted examination Standing at
the foot of the bed, in her plain gray dress
and professional cap and apron, she looked
q strong, reliant figure, capable or the
patient fuifilnIent OF burdensome duties,
and of swift, masterfUl action in moments
of emergency. Her face was pale, and ap-
peared paler still for the deep rings under
the eyes that told Of n nights vigil; and
though trained for years to impassive con-
temptation of suffering and sorrow, Its
features were all too finely moulded and
sympathetic to wholly conceal a nature
doctor put his watch baCI into his pocE<7
and sloul,. l..ttoned his coat as he looked
at the unconscious figure in the bed.
The Change may come at any nc EIent.'
he said, land wa.n it does there VIII be
nothing more for US To do. He cannot
possibly live through the day; he may die
IN the next five minutes. / will stay here
\ l,,-Sy,
and"-hc scanned acr keenly and noted the
wcariness her eyes could not conceal-"you
had better rest in the armchair. You look
a bit tagged. Did you get any sleep last
night?"
No she answered, Simply, moving to
failed TO add that she had taken 10 rest
and scarce any food since "wednesday after
noon, though it was then Friday. He would
have scolded her for her want of care of
herself, and her secret was inestinlably
dear to her.
The doctor drew the blinds to shut out
the morning sunligat-there was little need
for light now. Moving noiselessly about
the room he amused himself examining the
books and curious odds and ends that
Uttered the room, glancing from time to
time toward the bed W here his dying patient
brcathed slowly and heavily. He even won
dcred about the identity OF the man whose
existence had only come to his ken, was
called by the laundress a couple Of days
back.
II was then too late to discover much. for
the patient had lain all night insensible
by the heavy brass fender with fractured
skull; and precious hours-wherein IL
might have been possible to raise the de-
pressed bone, remove the clots, and so re-
lieve the pressure on the brain-had passed
without suspicion. The shadow of death
was creeping across the large room in the
Temple The charwoman found linn in The
morning and screamed for the assistance
and the comfort of her daughter Hannah.
Together they began to treat the poor gen.
tIeman for what they comprehe nsively
termed fits" but the girl, discovering
the small wound at the back of the head,
the doctor was speedily brought, and they
volubly furnished him with the leading
facts.
He was very lonely gent, wonderfully
lovely, and during the ten years she had
known him she had never seen him with
q friend. No visitors came to his room,
and even letters were rare. He led quiet,
orderly life, with money always ready for
reasonable comforts, and was ever kind
and pleasant-spoken to herself and her
daughter. When she found him lying there
SO still and awful it gave her quite turn,
and she was too much flurried to think
what could have happened.
Perhaps the doctor was right in thinking
he must have fallen from the narrow ladder
leaning against the bookshelves, and struck
his head on the fender. Such a thing had
never happened before all the time she had
been in the inn, and she could remember-
DR.. Pitcher quietly checked the reminis-
cent flow and fastened to place a nurse in
charge. He was satisfied that the acci-
dent-as he was certain it had been-could
have but one ending. There are few
threads in the tangled skein of London life
that run their length smoothly enough-tn
enable stranger to pick up any part and
trace its history, and DR.. Pitcher was too
accustomed to the knots, the sudden entan'
clements, the confusing influence of in
truding threads, to expect to carry far
his Investigations into the antecedents Of
an unknown patient.
The man was of the intellectual type.
The good forehead and the long, well,
shaped nose could belong to no stunted
mind. His books, IL somewhat iucongru-
GUS, revealed literary appreciation; the
water-colors on the walls and the china
about the room argued taste; a crucifix at
the bedhead suggested a religious temper
ament, which the doctor, Judging from
the general surroundings, surmsed to be
impressionable rather than devotional
On the writing table he found letter from
firm of solicitors acknowledging the re-
ceipt Of instructions and promising "best
attention." this he put in his pocket.
Standing by itself in an old Oxford
frame was little half-faded photograph
of q girl in the evening dress of the early
seventies. The enormous skirt, with two
or three huge bows down the center; the
puffy sleeves fastened at intervals with
bands of ribbon and closing tightly around
the wrists; the full, square-cut bod
ice and loose pile Of hair controlled by .
single strip of velvet, were all sArange to
eyesaccustomed to later modes, but noenor-
mites of dress cold dim the vivid, we'll
nigh wicked beauty in the girls face.
A black velvet band, with q little gold
cross hung low on her bosom. and heavy