fefS' M .. -
VOL. XII.
NEW BLOOMFIELD, TUESDAY, DEOEMiyEK IT, 18T8.
THE TIMES.
In Independent Family Newspaper,
IS PUBMBHHD BVBRT TUI8IUT BT
F. MORTIMER & CO.
8 V a 8 C It I P X I O N I'ltiCK,
(WITHIN Till COUNTT.)
On Year II 2
8tx Months "5
(OUT Or TDI COUNTY.)
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She Mouths, (l'ostage Included) R5
Invariably in Advance I
Adrertislng rates furnished upon apnlt.
eatiou.
STOLEN FROM THE GRAVE,
on
The Doctor's Wifo.
CONTINUED.
THE doctor noiselessly followed his
sister-in-law up stairs, aud stopped
on the landing for a word before going
into the chamber.
"Well V" he said.
" I sent for Doctor MarBton this
morning," she whispered, " and he says
that It's typhus fever. You know fevers
are prevalent, lie thinks we must be
very careful."
In a few minutes the two came down
stairs again.
"How is she V" asked Anne, who
was awaiting them at the foot of the
stairs.
" As Meeia says, a little feverish," the
husband replied, drawing his wife into
the dining-room. " And I really wish,
Anne, that you could deny yourself the
pleasure of seeing her till morning.
She began to exclaim, but he gently
stopped her.
- " I don't mean to insist, my dear," he
said. " But your mother herself advises
it, and I agree. It is for you to decide.
You have never had this fever, and you
are now in such a state that you would
be very likely to take it. I wouldn't be
so selfish as to keep you from your moth
er ; and in the morning you can go in
and take care of her all the forenoon."
" In the morning it will be too late!"
the daughter cried. " You are trying
to deceive me. I shall go now."
" Well, at least take a cup of tea first,"
her husband said.
She would not sit, but took the cup of
tea her sister poured for her, and drank
a part of it. Then her husband led her
up-stalrs.
The room was darkened, rather then
lighted, for more light would have en
tered from out-doors, had the curtains
been lifted, than came from the shaded
lamp in the fireplace.
"O mammal I am so sorry 1" cried
the young wife, running to throw her
self on the bed. " I never dreamed of
your being sick. Are you very sick V
Eugene can cure you now he has come.
Why hadn't you sent for us V"
The mother tenderly smoothed the
tear-wet cheeks that pressed her pillow,
and after a little while said :
" I am glad you are come, my darling.
But you must not take it so hard. We
must be resigned to the will of God."
" But, mamma, Eugene says it is only
a little fever," the daughter persisted.
' You will be better to-morrow, won't
youV"
" If it is best, I shall," the mother re
plied gently but faintly.
" Anne, you will tire mamma," her
sister interposed. " You had better not
i make her talk any more."
" You can come in the morning and
tell me all about your journey, my dear,"
her mother said, in the same fainting
voice. " But now you had better go
and rest."
After, much persuasion they got her
out, and even succeeded iu making her
eat something, but it was impossible to
inspire her with much courage.
" Something dreadful will happen,"
she persisted in saying, not being able
to bring herself to speak more clearly.
If the doctor was anxious, no one would
have known it. He had too much pro
fessional coolness, and was too adroit in
parrying questions to commit him
self. Mrs. Wilson could scarcely be called
dangerously ill ; but at her age a fever
requires careful watching, aud the doc
tor knew that a few days would tell the
story. The sick woman quietly made
every preparation for death, and held
herself in readiness for whatever might
happen.
On the second evening after the re
turn of the young couple, Charlss Wil
son, who had been out, came into the
parlor where his brother-in-law sat
alone. " You know little Hose Pau
lier V" the boy said.
"Yes," the doctor replied, quickly
looking up, prepared to hear what was
to follow.
" Well, she died yesterday and was
burled to-duy," Charles went on ; and,
sitting down by a table, dropped his face
to it and burst into tears.
" Why Charlie I" exclaimed his broth
er, going to him.
"Eugene, is my mother going to
die V" the boy asked, wiping Ills eyes,
and looking intently into the doctor's
fare.
Doctor Thayer took ills brother's
hand, aud looked at him with kind and
solemn eyes.
"Charlie, I don't know," he said. " I
shall know iu a few days. Be a man,
whatever happens. There are only you
and Meeta to hold up. You know Anne
breaks down entirely, poor child ! Be a
man, Charlie 1"
The boy struggled nobly with his
emotions, choked and swallowed it
down. " I will do the best I can," he
whispered, not able to speak louder.
Doctor Thayer went up to the sick
room and left directions for the night
with the nurse. lie then went to his
chamber, and, lying down beside his
wife, whom he had persuuded to go to
bed, coaxed and petted her a while, win
ning from her a promise to allow him to
go out to see a patient. " I may not be
able to get in till late," he said. " And
I want you to try and sleep. Your
draught will soon work. Mother is
comfortable, and when I come in I will
step into her chamber again. I think
that she will have a good night."
Doctor Thayer, as soon as the ar
rangements for his marriage had been
made, and when it had been decided that
he was to board at .the Wilsons', had
built him an office there. It was a
small building, connected with the cot
tage by a covered passage,and having an
entrance on a side street. In the summer-time,
when the trees were in full
leaf, this office was hardly visible from
the bouse, the windows being still fur
ther covered and hidden by a hedge
of thorn.
The doctor felt very nervous this eve
ning. Though he would , not own it
even to himself, his wife's want of self
control was a burden to him. He was
also anxious on her account, and on her
mother's. It was impossible that be
should think of sleep. Besides, fevers
were prevailing to an alarming extent,
and he had bis hands full. Coming
down-stairs, he put on his hat and went
out.flrst glancing about, then taking the
road towards the poor-house. He was a
little doubtful of success in his errand,
but it was worth trying. He knew
Warren, the poor-house keeper,and that
the man was fond of money. The only
doubt was on account of the Back
hardts. If they had remained away a
little longer, all would have been well ;
and, as it was, perhaps their coming
would make no difference.
He reached the house just in time.
Mr. Warren himself.ln his shirt-sleeves,
with a lamp in his hand, was going
about locking up for the night. The
doctor tapped faintly on the side-light of
the front-door, and in a moment the
man opened the door and came out,
knowing what the errand was the. mo
ment he saw Doctor Thayer's face.
" Twenty dollars !" said the doctor, in
a whisper.
" I don't dare, doctor," the man re
plied, also in a whisper. " Mrs. Burk
bardt might change her mind."
"What does she sayl"' asked the
other Impatiently.
"Why, she was sorry the child had
not been burled with her mother, but
supposed that it was too late now."
" There must be no disinterments in
this sickly season," the doctor said de
cidedly, " and I shall tell the selectmen
so to-morrow. Tell your wife to plant a
rosebud over the little thing's grave, and
It will be all right. Mrs. Burkhardt
won't trouble herself if any one will
give her an excuse to avoid doing so."
The two men stood for some time
longer talking, then Mr. Warren went
into the house agnln, and the doctor
went homewnid. But instead of going
to the front-gale, he turned Into the lit
tle street that ran by the Bide of the cot
tage, and softly entered his ofllce by
means of a key which he carried In his
pocket. Ills first step when there was
to clone the tight outside shutters. As he
drew them to,they touched the branches
of the trees and ilowerlng shrubs, and
shook down showers of heavy dewdrops
and set the rich perfumes (lowing In
fuller clouds.
The night was lovely, fresh, still, and
starlight; but he shut it all out, care
fully drawing the curtains, and placing
screens around a table at the upper end
of the ofllce. Tills done, he lighted an
argand lamp that hung over the talile,on
which, by means of reflectors, he turned
the full brilliancy of its clustered flames.
Then he brought out a case of instru
ments, a pair of gloves, a basin, and a
towel.
Finally, he went nolsely out and
walked around the ofllce. Not a ray of
light shono from the closely muflled
windows. Assured of that, he seated
himself on the doorstep and walled.
It might have been two hours before
he heard a careful step approaching, and
in a few minutes a man came up to the
office door, bearing a burden In his arms.
Not a word passed between the two ag
the doctor received In his arms tills bur
den, and going with It into his ofTlce,
shut the door and locked it behind him.
The other man went away as noiselessly
as he had come.
Doctor Thayer curried his burden to
the table at the upper end of the ofllce,
and laid it there. Then, folding back
first a dark old shawl, then a veil of
white cloth, lie revealed the lovely waxen
face of poor little Rose Taulier.
"Dear little creature!" he said, an
Impulse of tender pity stirring for a mo
ment his professional composure. " It
was a pity she should die!"
But there was something so pathetic
in the face of the child that be could not
help pausing a moment to medl Late upon
it. No mothor, no father, no relative,
no friend even, to take care of her dur
ing her sickness, to smooth the hair
when she dead, to adorn the small, cold
form for its last sleep.
The hands fell at her side as he undid
the cloth that wrapped her, and not a
ribbon, nor flower, nor bit of lace hid
the bareness of the coarse, plain robe in
which she was dressed. She was lovely,
too. A dead child Is uluiOHt always love
ly, but this child had a beauty of her
own, beside the luminous whiteness, the
chilly serenity, the inexpressible solemn
sweetness which death had brought her.
Doctor Thayer was something besides a
physlcian,he was an artist ; and foronce
his profession was forgotten, and instead
of searching for knowledge, he paused to
admire beauty. How long aud curved
the dark fringes to those white Hps!
With his gaze fixed intently and uncon
sciously on those closed orbs, he recol
lected the last time he had seen her, her
pretty, shy way, her Indignant grief
when he had laughed at her, and the
tears that had flashed in the beautiful
eyes now shut and tearless forever.
It had seemed a trifle to him then, but
now he reproached himself with having
been heartless and cruel. In a thought
leas moment he had wounded the heart
and suffused the eyes of the little one
whose whole short life had been a life of
sorrow, and he had done it when he was
happy; and when she had been doing
the little possible to her to serve the one
he loved best. Now, as a fitting end to
her deserted and friendless existence.her
lifeless body, instead of dropping peace
fully to dust beneath the turf, was ex
humed to serve that science which could
not serve her, even in preserving a few
pitiful years.'
" I vow, I hate to touch the poor, for
saken beauty !" the doctor said, rising
erect after having bent over her for
some time, and drawltiga deep breath as
he spoke.
He stood a moment looking on the
lovely waxen image that lay there in
the strong light helpless, in his power,
seeming also, by its quietness to trust
him, and strange, vague superstitions
began to stir his brain, and reaoh down
to his heart. He shrunk from touching
her with the knife, she was so beautiful,
she looked so living. It seemed as if
she would cry out If he should touch
her.
"Who would think that hard work
would unnerve mesor" he muttered,
turning away from the table, and walk
ing up and down the ofllce.
The air was close and warm. He softly
unlocked the door, and went out Into the
night. He did not dare to walk lest his
tread should be heard ; but he stood on
the steps of the ofllce and went through
the dumb-bell exercise without the
dumb-bells, drawing in full breaths of
the pure, dewy air.
It was the wrong way to strengthen
his nerves, or silence his imagination ;
that could have been better done in
sight of his bottles, instruments, speci
mens, and skeletons. Tho strange,mog
netio Influence shed from that cold and
lovely image from which he had fled,
radiated from every object In nature.
He shivered, clenched his hands, and
strove to throw oil" the enervating in
fluence. "The air Is full of death," he thought,
"of that which we call death, and which
is only a change-working power, dis
solving lower organizations In order to
form them Into higher. Only pure
health can resist the potent Influence of
this atmosphere.
Setting his teeth and clenching his
hands In the effdrt to steel his mind, he
relumed to the office, locked the door
behind him, and stood a moment look
ing over a book of anatomical plates that
lay upon the shelf. Then he stepped de
cidedly back to the dlssectlng-table and
prepared for his work, but without look
ing at the subject. Lastly, knife in
hand, he approached the body, and
bending over it he drew away the coarse
robe that, veiled its bosom. Ashe did
so, a thrill crept tingling from his finger-tips
over his whole body, and every
nerve, and every pulse throbbed with a
noisy beating that seemed to defeat his
sense of hearing.
The child's breast was rising and fall
ing with an almost imperceptible breath
and, first the long-fringed eyelids quiv
ered, then they lifted, and dear little
Rose Paulier's bright eyes opened, and
looked with a bewildered yet earnest
gaze into the startled eyes that bent
above her.
"My little darling," he whispered,
hastily flinging the knife and gloves un
der the table, " do you know me ? Do
you feel better V"
She looked at him a moment longer
without seeming to comprehend ; then a
change that was more a brightening of
the whole face than a smile, came over
her, and stretching both her arms up,
before he was aware of her intention,she
had clasped his neck, and drawing him
down to her, kissed him as a child kisses
its father when she welcomes him after
an absence. He was both astonished
and touched, it was so unlike the shy
child, and besides, it seemed such a ten
der re-assuring after his self-reproaches
on her account, and such an unconscious
manifestation of gratitude for the life
which he had accidentally both rescued
and spared.
Anne Thayer was fully resolved that
she would not sleep one wink till her
husband's return. In spite of his ten
der care and thoughtfulness, she felt ag
grleved,she scarcely could tell why. Be
sides, she had heard him say that very
morning to Meeta :
" Be careful not to do too much, dear.
You know you. are our sole depend
ence." The bride of a week did not like her
sister to be her husband's sole depend
ence. " I know I am not like' Meeta," she
said to herself, beginning to cry ; " but,
then, I"-
Not knowing how to finish the sen
tence, or think of any possible reason
why her husband should not have
spoken precisely as he did, Mrs. Thayer
cried a little while, and even while cry
ing, fell asleep.
Meeta, after setting out a luncheon for
the night-nurse, and seeing that her
mother was comfortable, had gone to
bed. She was learning that she must
take oare of herself, and that a weak
yielding to grief and anxiety was not
only vain, but that it rendered her un
fit for the duties of the day. So, reso
lutely putting all thought from her
mind, she closed her mental in closing
her bodily eyes, and in a few mlnutcs.by
help of a sleeping-draught, was sound
asleep. Charles alone, of all the family,
remained up.
"I'm going to wait for the doctor,"
he said, as Meeta put her head in at the
parlor door, and gently urged him to go
to bed.
She looked sorrowfully In his face, and
with a faltering good-night, left him,
not daring to trust herself with a word
of sympathy. Poor CharleB was trying
to be a man, and the eflbrt made him
look pale, and prematurely grave. There
was not only the fearful looking for
ward to his mother's possible death, but
the pang which he felt on hearing of
the death of Rose Paulier, and, also, that
gloom and apprehension Inseparable
from a time of general sickness. Be
sides, it was now almost a fornlght since
the day he had carried Itose, stricken
with fever, In his arms, had taken her
breath, had felt her burning cheek
against his own. If he had caught the
fever from her, it would show itself in
a few days.
Charles had not mentioned this last
subject to his brother-in-law, but he
thought if the doctor should not be in
haste to go up-stalrs on coming in, and
should be in a talking mood, be would
ask him about it.
The boy tried various ways to divert
his thoughts, and watched the clock,
wondering what kept Anne's husband
out so late. Eleven, twelve, one o'clock,
came and went; and just as Charles
was thinking that really he had a mind
to go out in the front yard and listen for
some sign of a step in the street, he
heard what seemed to be a knock on the
back door. He listened, and it came
again, low and cautious, but an unmis
takable knock.
" Who In the world can it be ?" the
boy thought, going out through the
kitchen, and from there into the corri
dor out of which the back door of the
bouse opened. Here he heard the knock
for the third time, but not now on the
yard door. It was on the door at the
end of the corridor which led to Doctor
Thayer's office.
For the first time the boy felt a little
alarm, but while he hesitated, the knock
was repeated, and he heard Doctor
Thayer's voice on the other side:
"Charlie, won't you open the door?"
Charles immediately unlocked and
opened the door, and saw Doctor Thayer
there looking very pale and eager.
"Is anybody up but you '(" he asked,
hurriedly, before coming in.
"No; they're all asleep," was the
answer.
At that the doctor stepped into the
corridor, and laid his hand on his broth
er's arm.
" Charlie, I believe that you've got
pretty good pluck," he said, "and I'm
going to give you a chance to show
it. How are your nerves? pretty
steady J"'
" I'm all right," the boy said.stralght
ening himself up.
" Oood I Now you know you told me
that Itose Paulier was dead ?"
"Yes," the boy said, clouding over a
little.
" Well, she isn't dead, it was a mis
take, and she is alive and in that office.
No matter just how she came there.
Nobody must know it on any account.
It would make trouble enough for me
if it were known. No one in the house
must suspect It, except Meeta, and she I
shall tell in the morning. Can you help
me? I must be in the house, and the
child must not be left alone."
" I'll stay with her," the boy said, ea
gerly, understanding the whole matter
at once. He had read of resurrections,
and knew that doctors sometimes got
subjects in a contraband manner; and
he was far more likely to believe in mar
vels than one who knew them far better
would have been.
Full of excitement, he followed his
brother as be hurried back to the office,
and stepping in at the open door, saw
Rose Paulier lying on the sofa, a shawl
wrapped about her, her head pillowed on
a cushion, and her wide bright eye
fixed on them. She smiled as they en
tered, but did not move.
" Now, my little girl, I've got some
body to stay by you," the doctor said.
Bitting before her, and taking her small
hand in his.
j She smiled kindly, but without perfect
confidence in the boy.
j " And I want you, too," contriving
kwltu delicate tact to express her prefer-
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