The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1896-01-11
ONE WHO WAS, 1oYAh.
is he to-day, nurse:"

ment, but it was only momcntary, and
he has remained just as you see him
now. Perhaps l was mistaken even
then"
She spoke With the calm. matter-of-
fact p%recisencss of her calling, and
watched in respectful silence while
the doctor made his wonted eXamina-
ton. Standing at the foot OF The bed,
in her plain gray dress and profession
al cap and apron, she looked Il strong,
reliant figure, capable of the patient
of burdensomc duties, and
Of swift, maSterful action i'll moments
of emergency. Her face was pale, and
appeared paler still for the deep rings
under her eyes, that told OF a nights
vigil; and, though trained for years to
impressive contemplation of suffering
and sorrow. its features were I'LL too
finely moulded and sympathetic to
wholly conceal Il nature instinctively
watch back into his pocket and slowly
buttoned his Goa as he looked at the
unconscious figure in the bed.
1.-The change may come at any mo-
ment." he said, land when it does
there will be nothing more for us to
do. He cannot possibly live, through
the day; he may die in the next five
minutes. l will stay here a little
while; l am not busy this morning.
He scanned her kcenly and noted the
WEAKNESS her eyes could not conceal.
You had better rest in the arm chair.
You look Il bit tagged. Did you get
any sleep last night"
NO" she answered simply, moving
to tho chair he wheeled forward for
her. She failed to add that she had
taken no rest, and scarce any food
since Wednesday afternoon, though it
was then Friday. He would have
scolded her for her want of care of
herself, and her secret was ineStima-
bly, dear to her.
The doctor drew the blinds to shut
out the morning sunlight-there was
little need for light now. Moving
'~noisclcssly about the room, he amused
himself examining the books and curl
odds and ends that Uttered the room,
CHANGING from time to time toward the
the bed where his dying patient
breatled slowly and heavily. He even
wondered about the identity of the
man whose existence had only come
TO his ken when he was called by the
%launuress a couple of days back. 1t
was, then too late to discover much,
for tho patient had lain all night in
sensible by the heavy brass fender,
with Il fractured skull; and precious
hours-Whercin it might have been
' possible to raise the depressed. bone.
remove the clots and so relieve the
pressure on the brain-had passed
without a suspicion. The shadow of
death was creeping across the large
room in the Temple. The charwoman
found him in the morning. and
screamed for the assistance and com
fort Of her daughter Hannah. TO
getler they began to treat the poor
gentleman for what they comprehen-
sivcly termed ''fts," but the girl, dis
covering 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 q very lonely gent. wonder
fully lonely, and during the ten years
she had known him. she had never
seen him with a friend. No visitors
came to his room, and even letters
were rare. He led a 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 a turn. and h was
too much Hurried to think what should
have happened. Perhaps the doctor
was right in thinking he must have
fallen from the narrow ladder leaning
against the book shelves, and struck
his head on the fender. Such a thing
had never happened before in all the
time she had been in the inn, and she
could remember
DR.. Pitcher quietly checked the rem
iniscent flow. and fastened to place Il
nurse in charge. He was satisfied that
the accident-as he was certain 1t had
beel-cOuld have but one ending.
There are few threads in the tangled
skein of London life that run their
length smoothly enough to enable any
stranger to pick up any part and trace
it's history; and DR.. Pitcher was too
accustomed to the knots. the sudden
entanglements, the confusing infu-
ence of intruding threads to expect to
carry far his investigations into the
a~ntecedents of an unknown patient.
The man was of the intellectual type,
the good forehead, and the long, well
shaped nose, could belong to no stunt
ed mind. His books. if somewhat in
congruous, revealed literary apprecla-
ton: the water. cOlors on II walls
and the china about the room argued
taste; q crucitiX at the bed dead sug-
gested IL religious temperament, which
the doctor, Judging from the general
surroundings, surmised to be impress
sional rather than devotional. On the
writing table he found a letter from a
firm of solicitors, acknowledging the
receipt of instructions and promising
"best attention." this lie put into his
pocket.
e Standing by itself in an old Oxford
frame was 4 little, half-faded photo
graph of a girl in the evening dress OF
the seventies. The enormous skirt,
with two or three huge bows down the
center, the puffy sleeves fastened at
intervals with bands Of ribbon n
closing tightly around the wrists; the
full: suuare-cut bodice, and loose pile
of lair controlled by a single strip OF
velvet, were all strange to eyes accus-
toned to later modes, but no enofmi:
ties of dress could dim the vivid, we'll
nigh wicked beauty of the girls face:
A black velvet band with a little gold
cross hung low on her bosom, n
heavy ornaments pierced her dainty
ears: but had her face been smeared
with the fantastic adornments OF a
Polypesian beauty, had her teeth been
bfackened and her lips run through
with bones, she would still have been
triumphant in loneliness, and the try
ing fashion of twenty-five years back