Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-01-10

shoot over the best preserves. and its frsS
| fishing whenever In the humor. IL q thout
sand times preferable to the siIk- hated ana
frock coated existence Of tho fashionable
physician.
I had long ago talked It all over With
me. had not the slightest desire TO have
| consulting room Of my own In Harlef
street All I ionged for was q life In tho
i n. Hua ak 5sr a E. sas S ,ns NJ: &c
bliss. with my we'll beiovsd ever ut my sid0
! The unfortunate man compelled to live 10
\ ous gifts.
Though this anaccountabie GOODNESS has
4 fallen between you," Mary said LOOKING
| straisht at me. you surely cannot have
| doubted the strength Of her Affection
But Mrs. Henniker's fusinuation puzzles
me. Besides. her recent movements have
been rather errattc. and almost seem to
bear out the suggestion
THAT woman h utterly unscrupulousr'
she cried, angrliy. Depend upon II that
she has some deep motive In making the
slanderous statement. On one occasion she
| almost caused breach between myself
| and my poor husband. Had he not possess.
! ed the most perfect. confidence in me the
consequences might have been most seri-
Gus ior both OF Us. The outcome OF mere
word. uttered half In jest. came near ruin
| Ing my happiness forever. did not know
1 her true character In those days"
=! had no Idea that her character was
L
| statement. Hitherto / had regarded her as
1 quite harmless person. who by making q
| strenuous effort to obtain a footing in good
society often rendered herself ridiculous in
| the eyes Of her friends.
Her character she echoed flercely.
Shes one OF the most evil-tongued women
| In London. Here's an Illustration. While
| posing as Ethelwynn's friend, and enter
tanning her beneath her roof, she actually
| insinuates to you the probability Of a Sc
| cret lover! Is 1t fair? Is 1t the action OF
an honest and trustworthy woman
| I was compelled to admit that it was not.
Yet was this action Of her own. In coming
| to me under the present circumstances, in
any way more straightforward? Had she
| known that was well aware of the secret
| existence of her husband. she would as
| suredly not have dared to speak in the man.
| ner she had done. Indeed. as l sat there
| facing her. a slim, sweet-faced interesting
figure in her well-made mourning. l could
scarcely believe IL possible that she could
act the mposture so perfectly. Her manner
was fla wless: her self-possession marvellous.
But the motive of 1t all-what could 1t be?
| The problem had been maddening one
| from first to last.
| 1 longed to speak out my mind to her then
| and there: to tell her OF what / knew and
Of what had been witness to with my own
eyes. Yet such course was useless. !
was proceeding carefully, watching and
noting everything, determined not to blum
der.
Had you been in my place, my reader.
what would you have done? Recollect I
had witnessed scene on the river bank
| that was absolutely without explanation, and
which surpassed all human credence. l am
a matter-of-fact man, not given to exag-
gerate or to recount incidents that have not
occurred, but / confess openly and freely
| that since l had walked along that path
hourly debated within myself whether
| was actually awake and in the full pos
| session Of my faculties. whether 1 had
| dreamed the whole thing.
But it was dream. Certain solid facts
| convinced me OF it's stern and astounding
| reality. The man upon whose body
helped to make an autopsy was actually
| alive.
| In reply to my questions my visitor told
\ me that he was staying at Vernon's in
Cork street-a small private hotel which
| the Mivarts had patrenized for many years
| and that on the following morning she
| intended returning again to Neneford.
/ Then. after she had again urged me to
i lose no time in seeing Ethelwynn, and had
/ imposed upon me silence as to what had
| passed between us. 1 assisted her into a
| hansom,. and she drove away, waving her
| black-gloved hand in farewell.
! The interview had been a curious one.
and 1 could not in the least understand its
| import. Regarded in the light of the
! knowledge l had gained when down at
| Neneford, it was, of course, plain that both
| she and her dead husband were anX Gus
! to secure Ethelwynns silence, and believed
| they could effect this by inducing to
| marry. The conspiracy was deeply laid
! and ingenious one, as indeed was the whole
1 reflected upon 1t on my return from the
| club, L could not help sitting till far into
| the night trying to piece together the re-
markable enigma. ---
| telegram from Ethelwynn had reached
| me at the Savage at o'clock. stating that
she had received my letter. and was return
| ing to town the day after tomorrow. She
| had, she said. replied to me by that nights
| post Ns
| I felt anxious to see her, to question her
| and to try if possible to gather from her
some fact which would lead me to discern
| a motive in the feigned death of Henry
Courtenay. But l could only wait in pa
| thence for the explanation. Mary's declara-
| ton that her sister possessed 10 other lover
| lieved 1t of her from the first: yet it was
| passing strange that such insinuation
should have fallen from the lips of a W.
man who posed as her dearest friend.
| Next day Sir Bernard came to town to
| see two unusual cases at the hospital, and
afterward drove me back with him to Har-
| ley street. where he had an appointment
/ with a German princess. who had come TO
London to consult him as a specialist. AS
| usual. he made his lunch off two ham
| sandwiches, which he had brought with HIM
| from Victoria Station refreshment room
| and carried in a paper bag. I suggested
that we should eat together at q restaurant:
| but the old man declined, declaring that II
| he ate more than his usual sandwiches tor
luncheon when in town he never had any
appetite for dinner.
| So I left him alone in his consolidating
room munchlng bread ana nam, and SIP
| ping at wine glassful Of dry sherry.
| About half-past 3. just before he re.
| turned to Brighton. / saw him again as
usual to hear any instructions he wished
| to give, for sometimes he saw patients once
| and then left them in my hands. He SEEM
ed wearied, and was sitting resting his
brow upon his thin. bony hands. During
the day he certainly had been fully oc.
| cupied and I had noticed that Of late he
| was unable to resist the strain as he once
could.
Aren't you well?" asked, when seated
| before him.
"Oh. yes he answered with a sigh.
There's not much the matter with me.
I'm tired. suppose. that's all. The eternal
| chatter Of these COMPOUNDED women bores
me to death. They can't tell their symp-
toms without going into all the details OF
family history and domestic infelicity." ~
snapped. They think me a doctor law
yer and a parson rolled into one."
laughed at his criticism. What he said
was indeed quite true Women often grew
confidential toward me, at my age; there
fore, / could quite realize how they laid
bare all their troubles to him.
"Oh. by the way!' he said. as though sud-
denly recollecting. Have you met your
friend Amber Jevons lately?"