Frederick citizen., 1895-02-01

off-was 1t not so?"
Sir Theodore nodded. The docto,
continued. do you happen to know
what become of that knife, Sir Theo.
dore? Is it possible for anyone to get
sight of it?'
Before her husband could reply. Lady
Trevor. with very pale face. had
risen, and with a small key which
hung to her watch chain, unlocked q
drawer in a secretaire. pushed bach
some slides and springs, and took some.
thing out which she brought to DIR
Dobbs. Her teeth were set, her lips
had gone white: she whispered rather
than spoke. Have you seen it before?"
"The Doctor took the knife in his
hand and amid profound silence
examined 1t all over, touched the edge
looked at the back of it, and at last
returning it to Lady Trevor, said. In 2
voice as low as her owA.
Madam, 1 have"
She smiled slightly. put It back in it.
keeping place. and sat down again
very near the Doctor facing him. and
fixing him with her eyes.
MY wife told Miss Somers of this
dreadful occurrence. and that she was
naturally Mortified, did not surprise
us, for she had been in your service
and though she said she had quarrelled
with you. 1t was none the less dread.
full to hear of such a thing in connec-
tion with people whom she had known
so we'll She was dressing her hait
when my wife told her, and Mrs Dobbs
said she suddenly sat down, very pale
exclaiming. "Oh. Mrs. Dobbs. what
frightful story! This quite unnerves
me! My wife fully understood this
sympathized with her and petted her
and begged her to give up the Idea
of leaving US that day, to take at any
rate another nights rest before be
ginning to travel again. She would
not hear of anything of the kind, said
she was expected In London, and must
absolutely go there. She promised tc
write, but she could give us no ad.
dress. as she was not sure where she
would be staying in London. She left
us that morning. For some time she
did not write as she had promised
but after more than three months my
wife had a letter from her dated from
Liverpool. in which she said my wife
was not to judge her harshly for moi
having written before. that she had
wished to do so many time, but had
not had the courage. That she was a
very unhappy girl, her circumstances
were miserable. not so much on ac.
count of poverty as because Of other
things which she could not explain
She wished Mrs. Dobbs to know that
she had always appreciated her kind.
ness, and would never forget it, II
would recur to her mind many time
when she was far away; she was now
on the eve Of starting to America witt
her unhappy brother whom she could
not make up her mind to forsake, lit.
tie though she approved of his conduct
In any way. She gave no address
That was the last we heard of her
directly. 1t was a day CIR two late,
that | read in a newspaper that Mr.
II. Somers Wilbraham, lecturer. agita.
tor, etcetera, not finding his views ap.
preciated in England. had embarked
for America, where he intended to re.
side for the future, and devote his time
to the propagation of his peculiar re.
ligious, political, and social doctrines
He was accompanied by his sister
The instant I read II I thought, 'Norah
Somers, n. Somers Wilbraham.'-
and the likeness between them flashed
into my mind and was explained in a
moment | felt we had been duped
and that we had had to do with ar
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. one who pur.
sued her calling because she liked it or
because she was forced into II. 1 tried
to think as little as possible about II
and indeed we were not much inclined tc
talk about it. Last week, however
something happened which brought lit
the whole thing again, which would not
let me rest till I told you this story.
and which made me ask you, Iady
Trevor. to see that amputation knife"
"And that was-," asked Lady Ire.
vor.
Just this. | was ready one mornine
to set out into the country for a days
angling. and was in my study collect
ing a few thi@gs 1 wanted, when one Of
ny servants came In with a note. say
ing boy had brought 1t and was wait
ing for an answer 1t was from DIR.
Perkins. colleague and friend of
mine. and this is what he said"
The Doctor took sheet of paper
from his pocketbook and read:
Dear Dobbs-I write from the hos
pital in haste. Will you send me down
your amputation knives? A case is
just IN which must be attended to at
once. and lent mine last week to thar
uuller Jones, who is out of town, and
mas not returned them. Yours ever
Fred Perkins,
or course, I was glad to oblige nv
friend Perkins. l went straight to the
table on which, along with other things.
lay the case with my amputation
knives. 1t had been laying there ever
since l had given up active practice.
l opened it. as matter of form. lust
TO see that they were in order. even
put out my hand to take one UP. and
peheld-an empty case. The knives
were gone as utterly as II they had
never been thre."
again the Doctor became silent. wip.
ing MS brow, moist from the excite
meht and fatigue of his unpreceden Sd
ly long discourse. His hearers drew a
long. deep sigh. and looked intently at
him, but spoke not Presently he re.
sumed:
AT first all I felt was blank aston
ishment at seeing the empty hollows
where the knives used to rest. Then
OF course. began to suspect our own
servants. 1t was too unlikely that
girls who had been with us for years
both of Whom. and their families. we
knew thoroughly, should have done
such a piece Of mischief Then who was
the culprit? When had last seen tho
Knives? l remembered II all in a mo.
ment. The last time I had seen them
was six months ago, when Miss Somers
was visiting us, one morning when we
had been talking about my profession
and the perfection to which surgical