“We have made a discovery!”
“And which is——”
“That this unfortunate young man is Frank Ellwood!”
“Frank Ellwood? Who is he?”
“The brother of the sisters, Imelda and Cora Ellwood.”
“Ah!” The word was long drawn and hesitating. Paul Arthurs did not as yet understand; so, briefly as possible, Wilbur related just enough to enable him to grasp the situation.
The young doctor’s face became sad and overcast. O, why is this young life blighted? Why should this burden be laid upon those young shoulders? But he felt it would not be for long. Disease, with its fatal clutch, had fastened upon the vitals of the young man, and it was only a question of a very short time until the fell destroyer would claim the victim for his own.
When an hour later, with returning consciousness Frank opened his eyes it was to find two fair faces bending over him, faces wherein only love and compassion were to be seen. While Imelda gently brushed the dark hair from the pale face Cora took his hand and laid her face upon it. In his weakness he saw but did not understand. As if their presence brought him peace and comfort he again closed his eyes and soon the regular breathing told that he was in the land of dreams. Gently, lovingly, the sisters nursed the erring brother back to life, with never a word of reproach for the wasted past. They understood only too well their task would be of but short duration, and when the paroxysms of coughing shook the weakened frame it was all they could do to stay the tears that would well up in their eyes.
But soon the time came when he asked to have their joint presence explained, and it was Cora who told him all—all the bitter struggles and experiences of both their lives; of the heavy overhanging clouds, but which clouds were now beginning to show their silver lining.
Frank made no comment. He seemed broken in spirit as well as in body. The once strong and healthy young athlete seemed now only to desire rest and quiet, and when the glad spring time came with its new life and budding joys, its sunshine and song, they folded the waxen hands upon the pulseless breast, decked his coffin with the first sweet flowers of spring and laid the emaciated body away from sight.