. .. “LOYALTY!” ..
r ”
r" 1 BY WILLIE Moor-om). _
“And Evangeline, kneeling beside him.
IKissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her'
, bosom.”
E “‘How is he to-dav, nurse?”
“T here has been no change. Once in
‘the 1:1 ht there seemed an improve-
ment, but it was only momentary, and
he has remained just as you see him
‘now.Pe1haps I was mistaken even
“then. ”
She spoke with the calm, matter- of-
‘fact pr ecis eness of her calling, and
'wat<:.1e'1 in respectful silence while the
doctor made his wonted examination.
Standmg at the foot 01" the bed, in her
plai 1 fray dress and professional cap
and apron, she looked a strong reliant {
figure, capable of the patient fulfill-
ent of burdensome duties, and of
wift, hasteful action in moments of
~‘emergency. Her face was pale, and
appeared paler still for the deep rings
under the eyes that told of a night’s
"vigil; and, though trained for years to
"impassive contemplation of suffering
and sorrow, its features Were all too
finely moulded and spmpathetic to
wholly conceal a nature instinctively
gentle and tender. The doctor put his
'watch back into his po.ket and slowly
ibuttoned his coat as he looked at the
unconscious figure in the bed.
1 "The change may come at any mo-
Inent,” he said, “and when it does
3there will be nothing for us to do. He
{cannot possibly live through the day;
"he may die in the next five minutes. I
will stay here a little; I am not busy
this morning, and”——he scanned her
i’keenly and noted the weariness her
fieycs could not conceal—“you had bet-
ter rest in the arm-chair. You look a
-bit fagged. Did you get any sleep last _
might}:
"l'o- she answered, simply; moving
:to the 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
.A‘then Friday. He would have scolded
her for want of care for herself. and
_. her secret was inestimably dear to her.
x
.3 rev we doctor drew the blinds to shut
' o’ut fihe morning sunlight-there was
i’dittle ..need for light now.
Moving
noisc'lessly about the room he amused
himself examining the books and
oddsand ends that littered the room,
{glancing from time to time towards
:the bei where his dying patient
'-.' breathed slowly and heavily. He even
wondered about the identity of the
‘ man whose existence had only come to
1. his Lken when he was called by the
.L' larrxireis :1 couple of days back. It
.v3.: 1 men too late to discover much, for
'11 silent had lain all night insensi-
ble by the heavy brass fenbder, with a
fractured. skull; and precious hOulS—
Wucrelhll} might have been possible
to r: ise the depres: ‘ bone, 1emove
the blood clots and relieve the pressure
on the brain—had passed without a sus-
fpicion. The shadow of death was
« creeping across the large room in the
Tern re. The charwoman found him
..in the morning, and screamed for the
assistance and the comfort of her
daughter Hannah. Together they oe-
'gan to treat the poor gentleman f01
what they comprehensively termed
“fits,” but the girl discovering the
small wound at the back of the head
Ithe‘doctor was speedily brought and—
they volubly furnished him with the
leading facts.
Dr. Pilcher quietly checked the rem-
finiscent flow and hastened to place a
.nurse in charge. He was satisfied that
the'accident—as he was certain it had
been —- could have but one ending.
There are few threads in the tangled
.skein of London life that run their
length smoothly-enough to enable a
' stranger to pick up any part and trace
.its history; and Dr. Pilcher was too
~accustomed to the knots, the sudden
-. entanglements, the confusing influence
'or intruding threads, to expect to carry
far his investigations into the an-
>1tecedents of an unknown patient. The
man was of the intellectual type, the
good forehead and the long, well-
shaped nose could belong to no stunted
mind. His books, if somewhat incon-
gruous, revealed literary appreciation;
' the water-colors on the walls and the
1 china about the room argued taste; a
acrueifix at the bed-head suggested a
arcing-i lus temperament which the doc-
tor, jtltly ing from the general surrou nd-
. lugs, surmised to be impressionable
...tratiier than devotional. On the writ-
:ing table he found a letter from a. firm
of solicitors acknowledging the re-
ceipt of instructions and promisingl
“‘best attention.” This he put into his
;.po‘cket.
Standing by itself in an old Oxford
‘.f-rame was a little, half-faded photo-
graph of a girl in the evening dress of
the early seventies. The enormous
skirt, with two or three huge bows
down the center, the puffy sleeves
fastened at intervals with bands of
:ribbon and closing tightly round the
.wrists. the full. square-cut bodice, and
loose pile of hair controlled by a single
31 win of velvet, were all strange to eyes
acguznomed to later modes, but no
s'e'normities of dress could dim the vivid,
'well-nigh wicked beauty in the girl’s
face. A black velvet band with a lit-
tle cross hung low on her bosom, and
heavy ornaments pierced her dainty
ears, lut had her face been smeared
with the fantastic adornments of a
Polynesian beauty, had her teeth .been
blackened and her lips run through
"with bones, she would still have been -
and the‘
triumphant in loveliness,
trying fashion of twenty-five years
back -’was impotent . against her
charms even when judged by modern
standards. Her small, pert face, with
its dainty cheeks and daring eyes, was
as real in this faded photograph as the
frank charms of honest Mistress Nellie
in the canvases of Sir Peter Lely are
to us to—day. The doctor examined
the portrait for a moment, and peered
at the dim name written across it,
smiling tolerantly as the wear and
- tastes of earlier days came back to his
.mind, while the woman in the arm-
chair watched him with tired eyes.
The heavy, stertorous breathing, and
:the peculiar blowing of the lips
changed suddenly to a quick, convul-
:sive struggle, and in an instant both
.1 1.. 1“...
.l were by the bedside. Together they
watched and waited till the brief
agony was stilled.
“1 will send up the laundreSs,” the
doctor said, “and then you had better
go home; it is no use stopping here. I
know his solicitors, and will write to
them that they may communicate with
his relations, if he has any. They can
see me about any arrangements they
want to make.”
She nodded without speaking, and
he left with a cheery “Good-by. " tell-
ing her to be certain that the door was
locked ere she left. As he went down-
stairs he said to himself she was work-
ing too hard and needed a change,
land made a mental note to send her
'with his next patient ordered to the
seaside. She remained at the foot of
the bed till the heavy approach of the
laundress roused her, and she went
shuddering to the chair, where she sat
shading her face, while the women
laid out the body after the decent
fashion of our people. When they had
gone she locked the door. Then she
pressed‘her hands over her eyes and
trembled slightly, remaining still and
sorrowing for some minutes. Present-
ly she went gently to the bed and, un-
covering the face, began to smooth the
hair from the forehead, speaking in a
low murmur.
“Harry dear,” she whispered, “the
world could not divide us at the last.
though it is so big. We are together.
you and I, as we used to be in the be-
ginning. Do you mind, now that you
know that I am with you? You are
not angry, dear, because after all these
years God has let me see you again,
and call you by your name, and—oh.
Yes—fl,
She bent to kiss him, but shook her
head sadly instead, and knelt by his
side.
“Let me talk to you just as if it were
the same again, as if nothing had
happened, and we were boy and girl
once more. I won’t say anything
about her to make you angry. I won’t
remember it and you must forget too.
Can you forget, I wonder? Do you
forget now? You forgot me while you
.were alive; are you forgetting her
now you are dead?”
The tears gathered in her eyes and
she sobbed softly. She looked into the
white face and said quickly:
“But I won’t ask you to forget,
Harry. I won’t ask it; it isn’t mine' to
ask. It was all a mistake, dear, and
we have both suffered; perhaps she
has suffered too. It was hard you
were not happy; you were so good and
loved so much. We have both loved
much, have we not? Where have you
been all these years? I wonder if you
ever thought of me as I have thought
of you, and remembered the old days.
If you, had met me I wonder if you
would have taken me in your arms and
kissed me as you did in the meadows
at Langley. I would have let you,
Harry, as I did then; you know Iwould.
Were you too proud to come back to
me? Oh, my dear, I would have lain
at your feet, had you wished it, and
begged you to look down and smile at
me. But it‘s too late now; there’s no
hope for either of us. I felt that there
could not be after the day you wrote
me, but I would have faced everything
and dared everything if you had come
back. Never mind, dear, it is good to
look back upon and think of and love,
and nobody can take it away from us.
Don’t think of it if it makes you angry,
but I can't help remembering; and now
i am telling you with no one else to
hear.”
The bright sun heat through the
window blinds and filled the room with
a radiance thick and hot. She bowed
her head on the bed and remained
kneeling with her arms stretched
across his body. Presently she rose
and began to move softly about the
room, touching his books and little
treasures. The white figure on the
cross hung in its infinite pathos above
the bed. She took it from its place
and was about to lay it on his breast.
With a quick gesture she stopped and
replaced it on the wall. Then she
turned to his writing table and took
up the faded photograph in the Oxford
frame.
“You were his then,” she said, in
gentle, even voice, “and you are his
still. You have the right; I have
none. Perhaps you, living in your
great world to-day, have quite forgot—
ten. but I know he has remembered,
and”—her voice shook a little—“he
would wish it."
where she had turned back the sheet
and smoothed the creases away from
it. Her hands clasped before her, she
stood looking at the strange pair—the
dead man with his pale face, and the
picture with its saucy eyes and anti-
quated fineries. The wicked orbs
seemed mockingly to tell her of a bar-
rier she must not pass; a right of pos-
session she dare not dispute. She
sighed, as if sulmissively, and
turned to the window, lifting
a corner of the blind to scan
the well-nigh deserted Temple
thoroughfare. A coster passed with a
basketful of cowslips, and she remem-
bered a morning in Langley meadows,
where Harry made a wreath and
crowned her his queen of the cowslips.
Going to the door she called Hannah,
and, giving her some pennies, sent her
to buy a bunch of the flowers. She
took them back to the room and began
to strew them over the coverlid. The
mocking eyes appeared to follow her
with unconcealed derision, and hastily
she swept the yellow blossoms together
again. Filling 3 large jar with water
she arranged the flowers in it and put
it on the table by the head of the bed.
She picked a few sprays from the
bunph and laid them for a moment on
the cold lips. Then she took them
and, undoing a button in her bodice,
hid them at her breast. ”Without look-
ing at him again she crept noiselessly
out of the room, locking the door and
giving the key to the laundress as the
doctor had directed.
clnb two men were talking. One said:
“I was at Lady Stourcommon’s last
night. What a. flirt that woman re-
mains at fifty!”—B1ack and White. 1/
She laid the photograph on the body ‘
In the smoking-room of a West-end '
on.
.
WE EK,’ Y-N O'Rw ALK- G AZE-r'r E
THE: HORNPIPE' ponxn.
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"western. a:
FRANK 1-. SMITH.
POLKA.
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Con spirito.
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Copyright, The New York MusicalEcbo Co., 1895.
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MYSTERIES OF THE LOUVHE.
Vague Stories of Imperial Crime Reach
the Outside World.
Everyone who has “done” the'Louvre
will remember the low-pitched and
somewhat gloomy halls in which are
stored the treasures of Egypt. Beneath
these lie yet more darkly mysterious
vaults, inaccessible to the public,
though approached by a wide and hand-
some staircase, such as would lead'one
to imagine. that it communicated with
apartments of some importance. Yet
one finds at the bottom nothing but
broad passages disposed in the form
of a cross, and without any sign what
ever of door or window. ' Jam ,.~ ’-’
A reccnt examination, however, of
the solid walls gives experts reason to
believe that the masonry is more recent
than the rest of the structure in this,
the oldest portion of the fortress pal-
ace. M. Vaugneux, a well-known critic.
believes that many of the bodies of
victims killed in the revolution 01‘ 1830
were immured here, and that the gov-
ernment was afraid to reveal the facts
when the remains of their comrades
were collected beneath the Colonnc‘dc
.Tuillct. '
*On the other hand, M. Blondel', the
architect of the building, and‘M. Nor
mand, the secretary of the Society for
Protecting Parisian Monuments, hold
the opinion that these subterranean
passages led to the oubliettes into
which Catherine de Medicis cast those
who were unfortunate enough to incur
her hate or fear.
tion would clear up the matter, and
settle, too, several doubtful points as
to the foundations of Lescot's original
citadel. Unfortunately, the annual
' grant does not provide for any such
archaeological re‘search,and it would be
necessary to appeal for funds to the
generosity of the cha-mber.—London
Chronicle.
FROG AND TOAD JONAHS.’
Yarns Accepted Not Without Doubt by
Amateur Naturalists.
Most persons when they hear a natur-
alist tell about peculiar doings by
birds, animals, or reptiles grin and ask
about big fish. One talc, Which no one
but naturalists seems to believe, was
told in the forts. and Sure-11m recently
by Allen Chamberlain. He says he
heard a cry down in Florida such as a
distressed frog makes and found that
Whenthe frog was out of s'ght the
snake was shot through the head and
the frog‘ was liberated. At first it was
stupefied, but was soon as livrly as ever.
Within 20 years the same paper has
recorded at least a score of just such
instances, repelted by as 11.11113 indi-
viduals, who gme their real names and
addresses, and who duclai ‘(1 they had
seen the stupefied toad or firog come to
as from a trance, hop about as if dazed,
and at last go away as lively as ever.
S. D. Kendall, in the Forest. and
Stream for June, 1892, told about a
got uithin 1.: u:- h of a 1 Little-
snake. ’lhe snake was killed in the
act of swallowing the bird. When re-
leased the bird was for some .time' stu-
pefied, but after awhile recovered
enough to stagger off. On the next
day she was all right and caring for her
chicks.
her young
POLLY IN A FIX.
His Piece Was as Applicable One Tlme as
Another.
beautiful parrot which accompanied
him everywhere on his peregrinations
through town and country, and excited
the admiration of the gaping crowd by
its capital imitations of the showman’s
voice and tones when inviting the pub-
lic to step into the booth. One day the
faithful creature broke its chain and
escaped into a. neighboring plantation.
Soon a number of men and boys were
on its track, but before they had gone
far they heard a loud noise caused by
the shrieking of birds in tlte'wood. On
arriving at the spot whence the sounds
proceeded the y 1” ouud poor I’oil perched
on the withered branch of a trce, be-
reft of most of its feathers and sur-
rounded by a fl ock of screeching crows
that were mercilessly peeking at it
with their beaks. Notwithstanding
this pitiable state of affairs the crowd
of seekers co did not refrain from laugh-
ing as they heard the poor victim
scream out at the top of his voice: “One
at a time, gentlemen! Don’t crush so,
please! Take your time! There’s
plenty of room 1 ”
How He Took It.
An exchange tells a story of a Scotch
minister whose physician ordered him
to drink beef tea. The next day, when
the doctor called, the patient com-
plained that the new drink made him
sick.
“Why, sir,” said the doctor, “that
can’t be. I’ll try it myself.”
As he spoke he poured some of the tea
into a skillet and set it on the fire.
Then, having warmed it, he tasted it,
smacked his lips and said:
“Excellent! excellent!” -
“Man,” said the minister, “is that the
way ye sup it?”
"Of course. What other way should
it be suppit? It’s excellent.”
“It may be gude that way. doctor, but
try it wi’ the cream and sugar, man.
Try it wi’ that and see hoo ye like it.”
A New Strawberry.
A San Diego man has produced a
straw oerry plant v. hich, unlike the
ordinary plant, bears fruit of a large
size and delicious flavor on a running
vine, and not almost directly from the
roots, much after-the manner of bear-
ing of squash or melbn vines. It as-
tonishes a horticulturist to see bunches
of ripe strawberries growing on a
slender runner which shoots out from
a parent. stem.
Small Pensions.
A late decree of the queen regent of
on-l; ecner a pension of 10 florins (not
quite eight dollars) annually, while an--
other widow has 13 florirs showered
A judicious explora~ _
a blacksnake was swallowing a frog.
mother quail wh 'ch in tiying to protect.
A showman at a fair possessed a
Holland a“ ards to the widow of a pris- ,
Norwalk Chronicler