Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 22, Number 83, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 July 1901 — The Doctor’s Dilemma [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Doctor’s Dilemma

By Hesba Stretton

CHAPTER VIII. Awfully fast time sped away. It was the second week in March I passed in Sark; the second week in May came upon me as if borne by a whirlwind. It was only a month to the day so long fixed upon for our marriage. My mother began to fidget about my going over to London to fit myself out ‘ with wedding clothes. Julia's was going on fast to completion. Our trip to Switzerland was distinctly planned out. Go I must to London; order my wedding suit I must. But first there could be no harm in running over to .Sark to see Olivia once more. As soon as I was married I would tell Julia all about her. But if either arm or ankle went wrong for want of attention, I should never forgive myself. It was the last time I could see Olivia before my marriage. Afterwards I should see much of her; for Julia would invite her to our house, and be a friend to her. I spent a wretchedly sleepless night; and whenever I dozed I saw Olivia before me. weeping bitterly, and refusing to be comforted. From St. Sampson’s we set sail straight for the Havre Gosselin. To my extreme surprise and chagrin, Captain Carey announced his intention of landing with me, and leaving the yacht in charge of his men to await our ret urn,.“The ladder is excessively awkward,” I objected, “and some of the rungs are loose. You don’t mind running the risk of a plunge into the water?” “Not in the least,” he answered cheerily; “for the matter of that, I plunge into It every morning at L’Ancresse. I want to see Tardif. He is one in a thousand, as you say; and one cannot see such a man every day of one’s life.” There was no help for it* and I gave In, hoping some good luck awaited me. I led the way up the zig-zag path, and just as we reached the top I saw the ■light, erect figure of Olivia seated upon the brow of a little grassy knoll at a short distance from us. Her back was towards us, so she was not aware of our vicinity; and I pointed towards her with an assumed air of indifference. “I believe that is my patient yonder,” I said; “I will just run across and speak to her, and then follow you to the farm.” “Ah!” he exclaimed, “there is a lovely view from that spot. I recollect it well. I will go with you. There will be time enough to see Tardif.” Did Captain Carey suspect 1 anything? Or what reason could he have for wishing to see Olivia? Could it be merely that he wanted to see the view from that particular spot? I could not forbid him accompanying me, but I wished him at Jericho. Olivia did hot hear our footsteps upon the soft turf, though we approached her very nearly. The sun shone upon her glossy hair, every thread of which seemed to shine back again. She was reading aloud, apparently to herself, and the sounds of her sweet voice were wafted by the air towards us. Captain Carey’s face became very thoughtful. A few steps nearer brought us in view’ of Tardif, who had spread his nets on the grass, and was examining them narrowly for rents. Just at this moment he was down on his knees, not far from Olivia, gathering some broken meshes together, but listening to her, with an expression of huge contentment upon his handsome face. A bitter pang shot through me. Could it be true by any possibility—that lie I had heard the last time I was in Sark? “Good day, Tardif,” shouted Captain Carey; and both Tardif and Olivia started. But both of their faces grew brighter at seeing us. Olivia’s color had come back to her cheeks, and a sweeter face no man ever looked upon. “I am very glad you are come once more,” she said, putting her hand in mine; “you told me in your last letter you were going to England.” I glanced from the corner of my eye at Captain Carey. He looked very grave, but his eyes could not rest upon Olivia without admiring her, as she stood before us, bright-faced, slender, erect, with the folds of her coarse dress falling about her as gracefully as if they were of the richest material.

“This is my friend, Captain Carey, Miss Olivia,” I said, “in whose yacht I have come to visit you.” “I am very glad to see any friend of Dr. Martin’s,” she answered as she held out her hand to him with a smile; “my doctor and I are great friends, Captain Carey.” “So I suppose,” he said significantly—or at least his tone and look seemed fraught with significance to me. “Tardif,’* I said, “Captain Carey came ashore on purpose to visit you and your farm." I knew he was excessively proud of his farm, which consisted of about four or five acres. He caught at the words with alacrity, and led the way towards his house with tremendous strides. Olivia and I were left alone, but she was moving after them slowly, when I ran to her, and offered her my arm, on. the plea that her ankle was still too weak to bear her weight unsupported. “Olivia!” I exclaimed, after we had gene a few yards, bringing her and myself to a sudden halt. Then I was struck dumb. I had nothing special to say to her. How was it I had called her so familiarly Olivia? “Well, Dr. Martin?” she said, looking into my face again with eager, inquiring eyes, as if she was wishful to understand my varying moods. “What a lovely place this is!” I ejaculated.' More lovely than any words I ever heard could describe. It was a perfect day, and a perfect view. The sea was like an opal. The, cliffs stretched below us, with every hue of gold and bronze, and hoary white, and soft grey; and here and there a black rock, with livid shades of purple, and a bloom upon if like a raven’s wing. Rocky islets, never trodden by human foot, over which the foam poured ceaselessly, were dotted all about the changeful surface of the water. And just beneath the level of my eyes was Olivia’s face—the loveliest thing there.

though there was so much beauty lying around us. “Yes, it is a lovely place,” she assented; a mischievous smile playing about her lips. , - "Olivia,” I said, taking my courage by both hands, “it is only a month till my wedding day.” Was I deceiving myself, or did she really grow paler? It was but for a moment if it were so. But how cold the air felt all in an instant! The shock was like that of a first plunge into chilly waters, and I was shivering through every fiber. “I hope you will be happy,” said Olivia, “very happy. It is a great risk to run. Marriage will make you either very happy or very wretched.” “Not at all,” I answered, trying to speak gaily; “I do not look forward to any vast amount of rapture. Julia and I will get along very well together, I have no doubt, for we have known one another all our lives. Ido not expect to be any happier than other m«n; and the married people I have known have not exactly dwelt in Paradise. Perhaps your experience has been different?” “Oh, no!” she said, her hand trembling on my arm, and her face very downcast; “but I should have liked you to be very, very happy.” . So softly spoken, with such a low, faltering voice! I could not trust myself to speak again. A stern sense of duty towards Julia kept me silent; and we moved on, though very slowly' and lingeringly. “You love her very much?” said the quiet voice at my side, not much louder than the voice of conscience. “I esteem her more highly than any

other woman, except my mother,” I said. “Do you think she will like me?” asked Olivia, anxiously. “No; she must love you,” I said, with warmth; “and I, too, can be a more useful friend to you after toy marriage than I am now. Perhaps then you will feel free to place perfect confidence in us.” She smiled faintly, without speaking—a smile which said plainly she could keep her own secret closely. It provoked me to do a thing I had had no intention of doing, and which I regretted very much afterward. I opened my pocketbook and drew out the little slip of paper containing the advertisement. “Read that,” I said. But I do not think she saw more than the first line, for her face went deadly white, and her eyes turned upon me with a wild, beseeching 100k —as Tardif described it, the look of a creature hunted and terrified. I thought she w'ould have fallen, and I put my arm round her. She fastened both her hands about mine, and her lips moved, though I could not catch a word she was saying. “Olivia!" I cried, “Olivia! do you suppose I could do anything to hurt you? Do not be so frightened! Why, I am your friend truly. I wish to heaven I had not shown you the thing. Have more faith in me, and more courage.” “But they will find me, and force me away from here,” she muttered. “No,” I said; “that advertisement w’as printed in the Times directly after your flight last October. They have not found you yet; and the longer you are hidden the less likely they are to find you. Good heavens; what a fool I was to show it to to you!” “Never mind,” she answered, recovering herself a little, but still clinging to my arm; “I was only frightened for the time. You would not give me up to them if you knew all.” “Give you up to them!” I repeated bitterly. “Am I a Judas?” But she could not talk to me any more. She was trembling like, an aspen leaf, and her breath came sobbingly. All 1 could do was so take her home, blaming myself for my cursed folly. Tardif walked with us to the top of the cliff, and made me a formal, congratulatory speech before quitting us. When he was gone, Captain Carey stood still until he was quite out of hearing, and then stretched out his hand towards the thatched roof, yellow? with stonecrop andlichens. “This is a serious business, Martin,” he said, looking sternly at me; “you are in love with that girl.” “I love her with all my heart and soul!” I cried. The words startled me as I uttered them. They had involved in them so many unpleasant consequences, so much chagrin and bitterness as their practical result, that I stood aghast—even while my pulses throbbed, and my heart beat high, with the novel rapture of loving any woman as I loved Olivia. “Come, come, my poor fellow I” ‘ said Captain Carey, “we must see what can be done.” It was neither a time nor a place for

the indulgence of emotion of any kind. It was impossible for me to remain on the cliffs, bemoaning my unhappy fata. I strode on doggedly down the path, kicking the loose stones into the water as they came in my way. Captain Carey followed, whistling softly to himself. He continued doing so after we were aboard the yacht. “I cannot leave you like this, Martin, my boy,” he said, when we went ashore at St. Sampson’s; and he put his arm through mine. “You will keep my secret?” I said, my voice a key or two lower than usual. “Martin,” answered the good-hearted, clear-sighted old bachelor, “you must not do Julia the wrong of keeping this a secret from her.” “I must,” I urged. “Olivia knows nothing of it; nobody guesses it but you. I must conquer it” “Martin,” urged Captain Carey, -‘come up to Johanna, and tell her all about it.” Johanna Carey was one of the powers in the island. Everybody knew her; and everybody went to her for comfort or counsel. She was, of course, related to us all. I had always been a favorite with her, and nothing could be more natural than this proposal, that I should go and tell her of my dilemma. Johanna was standing at one of the windows, in a Quakerish dress of some grey stuff, and with a plain white cap over her white hair. She came down to the door as soon as she saw me, and received me with a motherly kiss. . “Johanna,” said Captain Carey, “we have something to tell you.” “Come and sit here by me,’’ she said, making room for me beside her on her sofa. “Johanna,” I replied, “I am in a terrible fix'.” “Awful!” cried Captain Carey sympathetically; but a glance from his sister put him to silence. “What is it, my dear Martin?” asked her inviting voice again. “I will tell you frankly,” I said, feeling I must have it out at once, like aa aching tooth. “I love, with all my heart and soul, that girl in Sark; the one who has been my patient there.” “Martin!” she cried, in a tone full of surprise and agitation, “Martin!” “Yes; I know all you would urge. My

honor, my affection for Julia, the claims she has upon me, the strongest claims possible; how good and worthy she is; what an impossibility it is even to look back now. I know it all, and feel how miserably binding it is upon me. Yet I love Olivia; and I shall never love Julia.” A long, dreary, colorless, wretched life stretched before me, with Julia my inseparable companion, and Olivia altogether lost to me. Captain Carey and Johanna, neither of whom had tasted the sweets and bitters of marriage, looked sorrowfully at me and shook their heads. “You must tell Julia,” said Johanna, after a long pause. “Tell Julia!” I echoed. “I would not tell her for worlds!” “You must tell her,” she repeated'; “it is your clear duty. I know it will be most painful to you both, but you have no right to marry her with this secret on your mind.” “I should be true to her,” I interrupted somewhat angrily. “What do you call being true, Martin Dobree?” she asked, more calmly than she had spoken before. ‘’ls it being true to a woman to let her believe you choose and love her above all other women, when that is absolutely false? No; you are too honorable for that. I tell you it is your plain duty to let Julia know this, and know it at once.” Nothing could move Johanna from that position, and in my heart I recognised its righteousness. She argued with me that it was Julia’s due to hear it from myself. I knew afterwards that she believed the sight of her distress and firm love for myself would dissipate the infatuation of my love for Olivia. But she did not read Julia’s character as well as my mother did. Before she let me leave her I had promised to have my confession and subsequent explanation with Julia all over the following day; and to make this the more inevitable, she told me she should drive into St. Peter-port the next afternoon, about five o’clock, when she should expdet to find this troublesome matter settled, either by a renewal of my affection for my betrothed, or the suspension of the betrothal. In the latter case she promised to carry Julia home with her until the first bitterness was over. (To be continued.)

“TILL MY FLESH CREPT.”