The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1896-12-17


further of his plans. tried oecaslon-'
ally to lead him TO speak OF his reasons
for coming TO Rodneytown, but he was
reticent, and l had TO be content with
the explanation given by Lamar.
Dorothy Gray came often to read TO
him, and he manifested much graft
tude for her kindness; but even 10 her
he would say next to nothing of his
history or his projects,
Banks wrist was still weak, but hi,
recovery from the sprain had gone far
enough 10 enable him to circulate in his
old fashion among his patients. and my
duties as bis coadjutor were ended. lie
was beginning. though, to renew his
discourses about his desire to secure a
partner and practically to retire, and IL
was clear that he would soon make me
n direct offer. 1t was only fair that |
should prepare TO give definite answer,
but | realized that my plans were even
more unsettled than ever. There was
a new disturbing element in the situa-
ton. Could but foretell what Dorothy
would answer were n certain question
put to her, then DIR. Banks might be
answered, in turn, so soon as he chose
to speak. But what would the young
lady say?
Yes, what would she say? Truly
was far from sanguine. ! could find no
reason for confidence, in spite of many
soulful efforts TO discover one. We were
the best of friends; we were together
| daily, sometimes for hours at a time;
we read together, walked together,
and drove together. We had interests
in common; in some lines of thought
our beliefs were akin. Such things
were well enough in their way, but
what ground of hope did they furnish?
Would not a blush, a sigh, have more
meaning? Frequently l read disserta-
tions of the symptoms of the love mall
ady, but surely nowhere had / noted
| good-fellowship set forth as distin-
gushing mark of passion. Then, too,
there was the difficulty of the bread
and-butter problem. What business
! had l to contemplate matrimony, with
no well-defued idea how even one
mouth was to be filed, in the event of a
break with the mar who would remain
my paymaster no longer than suited his
convenience? My savings would cut
but a poor figure on a war-chest for a
family campaign. Besides, the girl
was supposedly well-to-do, and certain.
! ly was the heiress of her aunt, whose
wealth appeared TO be sufficient to en-
able her to travel wherever she de-
Sired and to pay the bills of high-priccd
! specialists, who charged with an appre
citation of the fact that their patients
would need to take nothing with them
out of this world. 1t would not be
| pleasing to be classed as fortune
hunter. All the philosophy available
would not remove the sting from that
reproach.
Meditating these things, I fell into
habits entirely reprehensible from the
standpoint of everyday sanity. l sat
up late o nights, smoked more strong
tobacco than was for my good. l took
to moping and violent language. On
the whole, it was fortunate that my
practice was limited-fortunate for
both me and my supposititious patients.
Whether anybody guessed the charac-
ter of my thoughts, or fathomed my
moods, was a matter almost of indiffer-
ence. / told myself that the mask
should always be worn in the presence
of Mrs. Loring and her niece; as for
the others, their opinion did not count.
AS matter of fact, l imagine that my
secret was known to all the women
| thereabouts, and perhaps to some of the
men. Banks now and then cracked
| jokes at my expense of character
| uph iph n hal hDt hp
had made a shrewd diagnosis OF my
malady. But, when all is said and
done, the simple truth is that 1 wac
as nearly at my wits end, even with
the ghost of the coloners rivalry eX-
orcised, as probably half the adult
males of the nation would own them
selves to have been on various occa-
sions, would they but make confession.
Mrs. Loring was upquestionably the
| better for her life in the country. She
still kept herself under the discipline
of an invalid, though the precaution
was entirely unnecessary. Her appe-
tite was excellent, her nerves were al
most forgotten, the daily record of he'
! symptoms was limited to an entry OF
q few lines, in place of the pages she
! had covered ut first. She often failed
to remember that was her physician,
and suffered me to depart without
| hearing a word bearing on her long
cherished aches and agonies. She had
become acquainted with everybody in
the village; nobody knew better than
she the true inwardness of every piece
! of mild scandal retailed from one end
of it to the other. She was hand in
! glove with the ringleaders in its social
diversions, and was the moving spirit
in an enterprise which promised to
eclipse anything of the sort ever at
tempted in Rodneytown. This was nc
less than "Fete Internationale," as
the programme had it, in which youths
and maidens of many lands were to be
! personated by the young people of the
| village. There were to be tableauN,
recitations, music and dancing, and al
| together n somewhat ambitious list OF
advertisement. Mrs. Loring had as
sumed the responsibility of designing
the costumes, n duty which she was
well fitted to perform, for she was
blessed with keen eye for color eff
fects, and her travels had made her
trustworthy source of information re-
garding the details of the picture il
1 IL.