The Doctor's Daughter

dearly, only a wasted remnant of her former beauty remained. Who could detect the change more keenly than I? I, who had feasted upon every line and curve that constituted

advanced on tip-toe to meet me, and twining her arms around me led me away down a dimly-lit corridor into a cosy sitting-room at the end, where a cheerful gas-light greeted us. Our noiseless entrance disturbed the solitary occupant, who, as we crossed the

cond or two as they followed the receding figure. Then with an

was here. We disturbed Bayar

e else," I suggeste

would not bring him back I assure you, we may as well be c

ive name, seemed timid and strange as a fawn, but as I had a burning desire to know everything about Hortense's illn

he result, she said, of a growing indisposition that had stolen over her lately, and this was why her fears had such littl

e end she renounced even these relaxations. The doctors suspect that some mental strain may have been worrying her, but I can think of none. All that we could do to make her happy and comfortable we did, and I have never heard her complain, or wish for anything tha

hat Madame de Beaumont's letter was exaggerated, and now it seemed not to have con

I swallowed some mouthfuls of food more out of duty than anything else, and indulged myself with a cup of strong te

very now and then upon her pallid cheeks, but still she slept quietly and peacefully. One would think it was the sleep that know

, but they are never disturbed. She dozes quietly the whole night long. To-morrow she will know you and talk to you. You must go to your room now, m

almost in our arms. He was making a stealthy entrance, and we a stealthy exit, and we came upon

ation by saying, "Miss Hampden, this is my

ned my head a little, and worked my way through the door with an impatience almost equal

rway came back to me now, more clearly-defined in memory than he was to my corporal eyes as they rested on him. He was a handsome fellow, very handsome, but how strange looking, with his rich embroidered gown falling about him in heavy

other was a woman's, not his mother's, nor his sister's. It was of some one I had never seen. I raised the lamp above my head and scrutinized it. It was a beautiful face, but one of cold, passive loveliness. There w

lamp it held, and even then I had not seen it half enough but I turned away

rs, with many a struggle against

pages of the authors I love, have to do with the issue of an existence of which they have never heard nor thought? What part could these fascinating faces have played in the personal drama of my life, when they have never been called upon to bestow even the tame smile of conventional greeting upon me? What bearing could those speaking pictures have upon the story of my individual experience when they are often the only reflection of days long past and forgotten, children of some pensive artist's fancy that never had another life outside of his conception, than that infused by b

d; but the light burned beside me and I could not sleep. Something held my gaze fixed upon the opposite wall. I could but stare and wonder at the curious lo

and repose forever. They even suggested something of a reproachful love, as if they found those attractions too winning, and not human enough. I almost coveted the respectfully devouring glance of those contemplative brown eyes, for we women with faces of very ordinary fabric cannot believe that men love us altogether as they would if our cheeks were like damask roses and our eyes like dew-kissed violets. Nor do we blame them. Yet how often does it come to pass that a woman's beauty is the stumbling-block to her earthly happiness? With only a face for her fortune, many a bright-eyed, laughing belle has gone out to seek sorrow and misery. The world is full of them, they are rolling in easy carriages up and down the thoroughfares of life, each a pampered and dearly bought idol of some powerful old Croesus, whom to love would be to outrage every principle of nature and worthy sentiment, and, therefore, to live upon milk and honey and be clad in the finest of purple, beauty will sanction

my eyes were still fixed upon the fascin

r which dark and muddy water ran in a gurgling stream. Her elbow leaned upon the railing, and her pensive face lay half-buried in one slender hand. She was looking into the depths below, and a great misery was written upon her handsome

us eyes, and the hopeless frenzy in her harsh and hollow laugh. I wrestled once, with all the strength I could command, and with a piercing scream I awoke! Cold clammy drops lay on my face and hands. My heart was throbbing wildly against my breast. I lay prostrate, paralyzed with fear, staring into the

my bed-room door at this crisis. Someone turned the handle cautio

s the m

voice, but sitting up in m

have had a dreadful ni

pt under the warm coverings. I was weak and shivering, and a violent pain darted through my head. In a few moments that seemed like hours to me

side my window, carts and carriages rumbled along the road; bells were ringing and all the voices

t and her son were already in the dining-room when I went down, and we took our seats almost i

rb her when I screamed?

adame de Beaumont excl

hear me?" I asked,

Bayard?" turning towards her son w

a direct reply, "and that with traveling, and the excitement o

th this explanation, and feeling a little unkindness in the arbitrary way in which he ex

picture that hangs over the looking-glass in the room you gave me, and do you know it suggested such a queer train

the look which he directed at me so steadily, and feeling painfully mystified and uncomfortable under the whole situation, I bent my head over my chocolate and sipped it slowly for need of a better distraction.