CHAPTER XXIV.
THE BRUTAL TRUTH.
Three days passed—three awfully slow days, though I visited Harvey Hume and Tom Barton, spent every evening at the theatre, and loafed away many hours at the club, where the boys made me tell them of the islands I had visited and asked my opinion over and over, (as if it amounted to anything) in relation to the probability of a war between the United States and Spain. I refused to enlighten Harvey at the time in reference to his question whether I had not been quite as happy "without my secretary" as if I had taken one. I said I would have something to tell him one of these days and that he must be content until that time came. Tom was the same dear fellow as of yore, but Statia, who came in to welcome me, was as sphynx-like as on the eve of my departure.
I also had to run in a moment on my Uncle Dugald, who gave me his hand in his old, impassive manner, and expressed the opinion that I looked better, on the whole, than when I went away. A brief call on Dr. Chambers completed my list. I thought that excellent gentleman looked a trifle disappointed when I called his attention to my improved physique and said I was as well as I had ever been in my life. I have no wish to do him an injustice, for it was certainly a feather in his cap when he raised me out of the Slough of Despond and made me fit to travel at all; but it is only natural if professional men are not filled with special delight at announcements that their services are no longer required.
On the third evening there came a packet from Miss May—at last! an awfully big packet, which set me to wondering what it could possibly contain. I thought as I received it from the messenger that it would have answered for a presidential message to Congress on the Cuban situation, with all the correspondence that had passed between the United States and Spain since the blowing up of the warship. It may be believed I lost no time in tearing open the paper that encircled the missives. Inside I found a small envelope marked "Open first," and a larger one inscribed, "Read this only after you have read the other carefully." All this was so deliberate and so much like a deep plan that I was far from my ease when I complied with the request and cut the smaller envelope. And the reader may well believe that my sensations were not of a very enviable nature when I read these lines:
My Dear Mr. Camran: I know no easy way to break the truth I am obliged to send. If you have any doubt of being able to bear a shock without medical attendance do not read what I have placed in the other envelope until you have summoned your physician. I fear it will not be pleasant reading, but you must have the truth. At least, I must keep my promise now of lying only to others and not to you.
With this warning, I subscribe myself, for the last time,
Yours,
M.M.