Doctor Luttrell's First Patient

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

Dr. Luttrell saved her as much as possible. He and Alwyn did the necessary business, and Olivia brought her work and Dot, and strove in every way to cheer and console her.

It was a very quiet funeral. Only Marcus and his wife and Alwyn and the lawyer were present. When they went back to the house the will was read. The provisions were perfectly simple. Everything, with the exception of a few minor legacies, was left to Greta,—the house in Brunswick Place and an income of nearly three thousand a year.

Olivia opened her eyes a little widely when she heard this. She had no idea that Greta would be such a rich woman. But Greta herself seemed utterly indifferent.

"How am I to live on here alone?" she said, with an outburst of grief, when she found herself left with Olivia. "Dear Mrs. Luttrell, you must both help me. All my friends must help me to some decision, but to live alone in this house just because it belongs to me; oh, I cannot do it," with a sudden shiver of repulsion. "I would sooner go into a hospital and learn nursing." But when Olivia repeated this speech to Marcus he only smiled.

"An attractive young woman with three thousand a year will soon discover some object of interest," he said, a little dryly. "But it would hardly do to hint at this just now. Nursing in a hospital is a fine work, no doubt, for anyone who has a vocation, but you may as well tell Miss Williams not to ask my advice. She has not the physical strength; besides, in her position, the idea is absurd.

"Why take the bread out of other women's mouths? No, no; just counsel her to patience, and in a few months we shall see which way the wind blows," for, though no word had yet passed between them, Marcus was quite aware of Alwyn Gaythorne's penchant for his old playfellow, though the idea was hardly more pleasing to him than it was to Olivia.

"There is not enough of him," he said to himself. "He does not come up to her mark. It is not her money, for Mr. Gaythorne is a rich man and his son will have plenty, but she stands on a higher plane than his, and, in my humble opinion, Miss Williams could do better for herself."

Strange to say, Mrs. Broderick differed from them. She had already made Greta's acquaintance, and they had mutually taken to each other. Greta had been charmed with Mrs. Broderick's cheerfulness and quaint speeches, and Aunt Madge, in her turn, had declared herself fascinated by Greta's gentleness. "She is exactly my idea of a young English gentlewoman," she had said after her first visit. "I thought the article had gone out of fashion. Oh," as Olivia looked shocked at this, "I grant you there are hundreds and thousands of good, honest girls, I'm thankful to say, but they are so terribly outspoken and up to date. Of course, I am only an old-fashioned frump and sadly behind the times, but though slang may not be sinful and a little outward roughness is only the husk, and there is plenty of sweet, sound kernel inside, yet I must own, Livy, I like gentleness as well."

Alwyn and Aunt Madge were already firm friends. She shared his artistic tastes and could talk intelligently to him on the subjects he liked best, and from the first she refused to see any defects in him.

"My dear Livy," she once said when Olivia had made a somewhat disparaging remark about his want of steadiness, "you are far too critical. You judge men by Marcus's standard, but you must remember every one is not a moral son of Anak.