The Mystery of Monastery Farm

d the doctor at every visit, and, stern as he was, that professional gentleman was

ncerning the patient, would send him with light heart downstairs to his mother to report the good news. One morning the boy brought a bunch of roses and violets, and gave

urse. Enoch met Tom in the hall next day. The lad was dressed in his best clothes and was nervously impatient. "Now To

mise anything, only

w the pale smiling face of Carl and heard his welcome he threw his arms around the sick m

ecognize his admonition, and kept on giving expression to his happiness. "Carl,"

aggerated stories concerning the case. But the crisis had been passed, and Carl began to improve. After a slow recovery he took up his accustomed duties, and church and school work fell back into its old routine. But six weeks of typhoid fever had greatly emaciated the young secretary.

es, and in the correspondence, which was without dictation, there was quite as much courtesy, but it all lacked that freshness that had marked the past. The organ gave forth notes just as harmonious and perfect, but the music lacked the brilliancy and uplifting power that had hitherto characterized it. Indeed, his youthfulness seemed to have departed, and maturity, if not old age, taken its place. Previously Carl's full and joyous laugh

nt and impressive feature of the man's face was his eyes-large, brown, and possessed of that peculiar quality which made them grow luminous when he was much interested and almost frightful when excited. He was introduced to Carl as Mr. Marmion,

on," said Carl. "Bishop Albertso

ering from a severe illness, Mr. Edwards," said Mr

te ill with typhoid f

eeping and

, it is a very slow gain. I have almost an av

What is the doctor giving you?" Carl handed him the bottle containing the medicine, which he uncorked and after touching the liquid to his to

. K

ram King. I

rl no suspicion that he was the direct object of his visit, and

cidentally, seemingly, asked: "You ha

Bishop Albertson allows me a very gen

in the habit of dis

I was in school, where such a practice would have been impossible. I am

glishman. From what pa

England," was

trouble upon your heart? That sometimes causes t

so, in fact, that the doctor repeated his question, adding: "There is but little prospect of helping the body, i

I have regrets concerning my earlier life. There are some things that I am sorry for h

present, and adroitly changed the subject; but while he continued to converse easily with the young man, he felt assured that he was on the right track. And when, later, he was telling the bishop about it, he declared that he felt sure it was a disturbed mind and uneasy consc