The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1905-12-25
TIE EVENING .STOR T
The Doctors CHRISTMAS GIFT.

fourth of December, and night was
beginning to fall, cold and cherries.
The doctor stood at his Office window
with his hands in his pockets and bit
the end of his cigar viciously as he
watched the lights come out and the
street cars lunge and roll past with
their loads of happy folk finishing up
the last end Of their shopping tours
People were hurrying past on the
| sidewalks below, and merriment and
holly seemed to be everywhere.
But the doctor hated it as he had
never hated festivities in all his thirty
two busy years, the years in which ne
had worked his way through college
and medical school, and then through
more school in Europe. He was tired,
! for all day his rooms had been hIed
with waiting sick, and all day they had
! filed from his consultation room with
hope or despair in their hearts Philip
Antrim always told his patients-and
| himself-the plain truth. He had
been called out several times that day
on long. cold drives, he had attended
faithfully to charity cases, but through
! it all was that duh feeling of What's
/ the use?" What was he doing 1t all
for2 His people were all dead-hls
nearest relations were few unlnter-
ested cousins. Who cared whether ne
| succeeded?
And all this discomfort was because
of a girls face, because he could not
forget the sweet, dark little head, the
! pretty small figure of Marian Stenlng-
/ Then he hated his brother physician
across the street, John Pembroke,
with whom he had been on such
/ friendly terms until few months be-
fore. After all, he thought, why
/ should he be angry at Pembroke NO
mortal man could help loving her, ana
] at first she had seemed impartial. The
/ doctors bitter reverie of how she had
/ gradually seemed to prefer Pembroke
and of how he himself had gone to
/ see her less and less, were broken py
4 the entry of a bent old Irish woman.
"Oh, it's yerself is it doctor? an office
hours long past, too, an it's wore out We
1 look, an I hate to ask We to come see
my shmall Kathleen, but she's that sick,
! the crather, an nobody can put the lie
/ in the wee ones like yerself, docther.
An to think of it's benz Christmas eve,
an the choild sick. an me not clint to
pay We wild till I wash fer it the week
/ The tears ran down her face, but he ra-
assured her
ITS all right, Mrs. Mulvaney. I'd
come if you never paid me a cent, but
1 know you will. and III be along as
soon as ever I can close up here. What s
| the number again?" She gave it to him,
! and he noted instantly that it was on
a little side-street not far from Marian
| lovely home. That was another thing
that stood against him; he was young
and already becoming noted through
his skilful surgery. but he did much
work out of a kind heart and had saved
/ little. But Pembroke always had money
his profession was pleasure
and a necessity, and his practice was
4 among the very rich-his old friends
| He was kind and gay, but he had never
| been poor, and what could he know Of
/ the sorrws of the poor? Mrs. Null
vaney never would have gone to Penn
brohel
All right. docthor, I'll be trottin' back
to the childer, an come when yere
! ready-it amt Sech hurry, docther-
She went out and he closed his desk.
donned his coat and looked about him
I before turning off the lights. It was
| cheerless enough, but hardly less so
than his apartments in a fashiona bic
/ hotel hardly more like home. Home!
| he thought and as his unSeelng eyes
reveIed in a dream home with Marian
in it some one opened the door. the
doctor turned and saw Pembroke. They
4 both stood rather embarrassed mo-
ment, and then Pembroke put out his
! hand; the doctor took it.
Look here, Antrim, we used to pc
/ friendly, and we ought to be now
unless you have anything against me.
/ If you have, man, spit it out, and III
do my best to clear things out.
81 have nothing at all against you
Pembroke I am sure" He tried to be
cordial and he thought he spoke the
truth Pembroke had as much-yes
more-right to love her as he him
| self. But Pembroke was not satisfied
/ He went on:
/ Were in the same set, and I re-
spect your ability and like you, and
still I never meet you anywhere. You
| turn down invitations you shun the
club, and perhaps I'm fool, but 1
thought you avoided me! What have
/ done? 1 have no right to say it, to
mention it, for I have no business to
assume that you care, but 1t has come
to me that perhaps you thought had
not played fair with-oh, hang II all,
man, I'm trying to say that I've al
ways been square abOut-MiSS SteI-
| lingi I haven't stood in your way, but
of course love her, you can't blame
me for that, and I've done what I
could to win her fairly. This is
! Christmas eve, and am going to her
her fatty to marry me. I have no
idea whether or not she will 1 have
even thought she liked you much
more. I thought I'd tell you. If you
say SO I will let you go frst-if you
care to-
The doctor picked up his medicine
case and tried to think in a fash His
first impulse was to tell Pembroke he
was mistaken and to send him about
his business, then he came back as
usual to the good solid truth. 1t was
fair of Pembroke and very generous.
well, ] will not deny that want
her You know it anyhow, but she
seemed to care less and less about
seeing me, and [ kept away for my
own peace of mind. I shall continue
to do so, Pembroke. 1 shall not see
her. and wish you luck. You have
always had it, he added, a little Bit
terly, land that must be because you
deserve it. I have a hurry call on B
street and at the risk of seeming in
hospitable I must start.
"Wen, thank you, Antrim, and I'll
walk part way with you. It's not
far from her house" The two walked
along in silence till they parted at
Marian's door, the doctor going on to
Mrs Mulvaney's.
His knock at the door of the little
dirty house was answered not by its
r,nisfrass hut hY Marlanl He started