HER DUTY TO THE DEAD.
Doctor Ludington was obliged to speak to Mrs. Hamilton coldly, and hurry away, for the sight of Eva in her pallor and unconsciousness, with the touch of her thrilling every nerve, unmanned him so that he could scarcely refrain from taking the young girl in his arms and kissing her pale, cold lips and shut eye-lids with the passion that surged in his heart.
The old love was not dead. Vainly had he tried to cheat his heart with the fancy.
She was more beautiful than in her early girlhood, more alluring than ever to the man who had watched her from childhood, noting every budding charm as it expanded into the matchless, full-blown rose.
To think of her pledged to another in all her sweetness was madness to the hopeless lover who had come so near to bliss only to be thrust back into despair. His heart cried out fiercely, imperiously:
“She is mine, mine, mine! How dare she give herself to another?”
He could not come back to see her to-morrow as her aunt wished. No, no, no! He felt he could scarcely control himself in her presence, or keep back burning words of love from his lips.
His first impulse was to rush away from the city, as we all long to rush away from our pain. His self-confidence had been too great in fancying he could remain there in sight and sound of his old love—the one love of his life.
Bitterly he regretted now the promise to his absent friend to remain at the hospital during all of the winter months. He knew that he could not recall it now, because no one could be found to take his place in this special branch.
His duty to his patients, as well as to his friend, made flight impossible. He must stay, even though his heart was wrenched with pain, even though he saw her made the bride of another.