A wronged wife : a novel

Front matter

Library

J

of the j

Chapter II

k CHKISTMA8 GIFT.

RISTMAS eye, and a cold, clear nighi Bright stars shining in a blue wintry sky, a

IrefsiaMSjl crescent moon threading its silvery way up the blue-black concave, where the constellations were darning ; a clear, bright, bracing night, full of promise of a cloudless coming day. Christmas eve, and Broad¬ way crowded. All gaslight, and glitter, and throbbing life ; every shop window a picture at which you might stand entranced ; cars and stages, with their brilliant colored lights, flashing up and down like overgrown fire-flies ; the pavement crowded with pedestrians, pushing, elbowing, jostling ; for Christmas eve comes but once a year, and the veriest miser must unloose his purse before the tempting stores.

A man buttoned up to the chin in an overcoat of sealskin, with a scarlet comforter wound about his nock, and a crush hat pulled over his eyes, strode along through the surging sea of life, pushing and jostling with th@ best in his hurry, but never stopping as the other folk did to enter the toyshops and confectionery and jewelry

A CHRISTMAS GIFT.

H

stores. No ; this man eyed all such places, ae he trotled by them, with a sidelong glance of sour disdain, and pursued the even tenor of his way for a mile or so up the thronged thoroughfare. He stopped at last under & street lamp, and pulled a card out of his pocket, which he perused with deliberation by the aid of a pair of old-fashioned, silver-rimmed spectacles. He was a little man, you could see ; thin and dark of face ; with small, piercing eyes ; thin, compressed, cynical lips, and a rapid, energetic way of doing even the smallest thing, that would have made a quiet person nervous to behold.

“Number — , Fifth avenue,” the little man read from the card. “I ought to be near the place now. ”

Turning out of bustling Broadway, he made for the quieter avenue beside it, and walked along that aristo¬ cratic place, looking at the numbers on the houses ae he went. A few minutes rapid walking, and he drew rein before a stately brown-stone front, with two lamps burning in front of its aristocratic portal On the silver doorplate was inscribed the name “ Hazelwood and the little man in the sealskin overcoat and red woolen comforter, nothing awed by its magnificence, ran boldly up the steps and rang a stirring re^'11 ;> A young man

A CHIUSTMA8 GIFT.

ifc Kvcry answered the summons, and stared supeneil* ously at the crush hat and sealskin coat.

“Is Mr. Basel wood at home ?” asked the little man, in a sharp, quick, imperative voice, no more awed by the tall young man in livery than he had been by th© imposing exterior of the mansion.

“Yes, he is,” said the tall young man; “ but I rather think he is engaged. Did you want to see him?”

“ Give him that,” replied the little man, shortly, pulling out a curd. “Fll wait her© until you come back.”

It was no gilt and guttering visiting-card, but a veritable pieo© of pasteboard, with “ Jeremiah Lance ” written on it in a stiff, cramped hand. The young man in livery looked at it dubiously, and then at its owner, whose peculiar brilliant eyes were beginning to dash rather ominously behind his lunettes. Perhaps it was the fiery brightening of his glance that taught the tall young men he had better do as be was ordered ; so he turned away with a slow and stately step, leaving the visitor in the doorway.

He could see a grand entrance-hall with corniced wiling, its walls adorned with rich paintings and pretty

A QHTU3TMA8 GIFT, n statues, life with blazing clusters of gas ; a vide marble staircase, with gilded railing, going up in great sweeps to the regions above ; and the warmth coming delight¬ fully up through the register that cold December night. Before the dark bright eyes behind the spec¬ tacles had done noting all this, the tall young man re¬ turned, and behind him a tall old man, with a hand¬ some, fresh-colored face, white hair and beard falling over a rich Turkish dressing-gown of many oolors, slippers on feet, smoking-cap on head, a smile of cordial welcome on his lips, and his hand extended in warn greeting.

“ My dear old fellow ! My dear Lance ! what a pleasant surprise for Christmas eve ! Come in I come in 1 who in the world would ever have thought of see¬ ing you I”

The tall young man receded into the back-ground suite cowed, and the little man suffered his hand to be shaken, and himself, red comforter and ail, to be drawn in, with constitutional phlegm.

“How well you are looking, too, not the least changed since we parted ten years ago ! Take oi? your iat and overcoat and come up stairs. ”

By the aid of the tall young man the visitor, who &U

A CHRISTMAS GIFT.

m

this time had spoken never a word, was divested yf his outer garment, and stood under the gtisjets in a decent suit of black broadcloth, a bald-headed, keen-looking gentleman, of some forty-five or fifty years.

“ This way, Lance,” Mr. Hazelwood said, leading the way up the grand staircase. “ Of all men in the world you are the one I most wanted to see, to-night ! What will the boys say at sight of their old tutor ?”

“Are all your sons at home, Mr. Hazelwood ?” asked the visitor. “I heard some of them had gone abroad, ”

“ Conway has ; Conway’s inclined to be a rolling stone, I am afraid, and will never gather much moss. He has made the grand tour — come right in this way, Lance — and goes moving from one end of the country to the other still, never ’ong in one place. Take & seat. Have you dined ?”

The little man pulled out an old-fashioned silver watch, and eyed it with an expression of sardonic con¬ tempt at such a question.

“I dined five hours ago, at one o'clock, the time I always dine at. I don’t pretend to be fashionable, 'Mr. Hazelwood 1”

“You’ll have some coffee with me, then/’ said Mi*

A CHRISTMAS GIFT.

Hazelwood, ringing the bell. “ I always have coffee one hour before dinner.”

But the fastidious little man wouldn’t listen to this* either.

“ I don’t drink coffee so late in the evening, I co&- eider it a pernicious practice. I’ll take a cup of weak tea and some dry toast, if convenient. I never take anything heartier after six in the evening.”

Mr. Hazelwood laughed, a genial mellow laugh, pleasant to hear, and folded his gay dressing-gown closer around him.

“What an old anchorite you are, Lance. We used to call you Diogenes, at school, and I find you are Dio¬ genes yet !”

“ And you Alexander, I suppose 1” said the small gentleman, looking round him cynically. “The world seems to have gone well with you in the lapse of years.”

If one might judge by Mr. Hazelwood’s looks and surroundings, it certainly had. The dining-room in which they sat was adorned with every comfort am? luxury money could purchase. Brussels carpet, satic curtains, softly-cushioned lounges, and easy- chairs, mlaid tables, exquisite pictures, and a carved sicieboarJ glittering with silver and cut-glass.- In a steel grate «

A CHRISTMAS GIFT.

s»

bright coal fire burned ; for Mr. Hazelwood, despite hi# furnace, insisted on a fire the whole winter through. It was pleasant to see as well as feel the heat, pleasant, too, to watch the bright red cinders and dream over the pictures therein. The two men sat opposite each other in two carved and cushioned armchairs, and formed a gtriking contrast. The one with his fresh, florid com¬ plexion ; his tall upright figure wrapped in the gay dressing-gown ; his snow-white hair and beard giving him the look of an old-time patriarch ; his kindly eye, and smile, aud voice : the other with his thin, keen brown face, his sharp sardonic eye, his compressed cynical mouth, his small wiry figure, and quick, sharp, imperative tones. Yet they were friends, had been friends in boyhood, in youth, in manhood ; and now, when falling into the sere and yellow leaf, attached friends stilL

Mr. Hazelwood was some ten years the elder, and his three sons had been partially educated under the mpervision of Professor Lance ; for a Professor he was — a Professor of Mathematics and Glassies at - - Col¬

lege.

A servant came to answer the bell. Mr. Hazelwood ordered tea and toast for his friend, and coffee for him*

A CHRISTMAS GIFT.

St

nelf, and leaked thoughtfully in the fire as he replied to the last remark.

“ Yes, the world has gone well with me, Doctor Lance. I have been prospered beyond my deserts ; I am not a wealthy man, but I have enough for all my wants, and something to leave my boys when I go. I have nothing to trouble me; a light heart and easy conscience, I hope, smooth the downward path to the grave. Thank Heaven for the blessings I enjoy !”

He raised his velvet cap reverently as he spoke.

Doctor Lance slightly glanoed up at the picture over the mantel — a portrait of a pretty woman, with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“ Your wife is dead, I have heard.”

Mr. Hazelwood’s eyes lifted themselves to the por¬ trait too.

“ She died eight years ago. Her loss has been m$ only sorrow since I saw you last.”

“ You have a housekeeper now, I suppose.”

“My sister is my housekeeper. You remember Emily ; don’t you, Lance ?”

Doctor Lance winced. Twenty years ago, when his

phlegmatic blood had been young and hot, Jeremiah

Lance had fallen in love with the pretty insipid face of a* u

A OmVSTMAS GIFT.

Emily Hazelwood, and been refused for a handsomes mar? That was the first and last folly of Doctor Lance ; and now at forty-five he was an old bachelor, ready to sneer with the best at the gentle passion.

“She ran off wifcu that graceless scamp, Frank Wood, you recollect,” aaid Mr. Hazelwood, who had never known of his friend’s little romance; “and a pretty time they had together, for thirteen or fourteen years — Wood drinking and gambling, and she following him over the country in a state of semi- starvation, her children dying * om her one after another as fast as ihe^ came. Two years ago, Wood died himself in a drunken fit, leaving Emily and one child, a little girl, penniless and homeless. Of course, I orought them here at once ; and here they have been ever since, and are likely to be while I am above-ground. Susan,” to the servant who came in with the tea and coffee, “ tel] Mrs. Wood there is an old fnend here who would lika to see her.”

“And so your sons are all at home,” remarked Dector Lance, taking the tea his friend handed him, “ gentlemen at large, I suppose — Broadway swells, with no profession ; with no higher business in life to attend te than their toilet, and flirting in ball-room*.”

A CHRISTMAS ttIFT.

U

Mr. Hazelwood, sipping his coffee, laughed good na- Sare&ly at the bitter speech.

“You are a little severe, Dr. Lance — boys will be boys, you know, and mine, I trust, are pretty good boys, as goodness goes among the jounes gens of Ne? York. Conway does nothing, I must confess, beyond yachting, and rambling up and down the world ; but Arthur has a studio in Broadway, where he smokes cigars and drinks lager, and daubs in paint all day long, and calls himself an artist ; and Eugene has taken out his diploma, and hung up his shingle, with M. D. after his name, on the same thoroughfare, and I dare say is licensed to kill with the best.”

Doctor Lance grunted.

“It’s exactly like them — the characters of three lie m a nutshell. Conway had brains and never would use them ; Arthur had none to use, and Eugene had them &nd used them. He has more sense than the other two together.”

“We won’t quarrel ovei it, Lance — have another cup of tea ? They’ll be surprised beyond everything at sight of you. I’ll send them word to come in here be¬ fore they go out.

Dressing, I believe, for a Christmas party, at old n

A 0ERI8TMA8 GIFT.

Thornton’s— -Una’s going, too. Oh, bj the way, you don’t know Una, do you?”

“ I haven’t that honor.”

“ To be sure, you don’t know her ! I have only had her about four years. Her name is Una Forest — m orphan, poor little thing ! the daughter of my wife’s only brother. We took her when her parents died, to keep her out of the workhouse, and she has been here ever since. Wait till you see her, Lance, and you’ll see the best and prettiest little girl in New York.”

“ Humph !” remarked Dr. Lance, in his usual sar¬ castic accent. “ Yours is a sort of private almshouse, I find ; an impoverished sister and two nieces — how many more are there ? ”

“ That’s all,” said Mr. Hazelwood, with his good-natured laugh, “and nothing would tempt me to part with either of the three. Appropos of Una, I some¬ times think she and Eugene will make a match.”

“ Don’t !” said Dr. Lance, raising a warning finger, “ don’t, I beg ! Of all the things on the face of this earth, a habit of match-making is the most despicable.”

** My dear fellow, what are you talking about ? I am not match-making. I never thought of such a thing ; but I can’t prevent the course of events. It’s the most

A CHRISTMAS GIFT.

SI natural thing in the world that Engone and Una ahoild marry. They’re cousins, to be sure, which is a draw back ; but still I think they could hardly do better.”

“ And why, pray, should Miss Una select especially your youngest son ?”

“ Well, for several reasons. He is nearest her own age, more suitable in disposition ; and then, Conway, I fancy, has already chosen, and Arthur is too lazy to think of anything but smoking and painting. He ought to be a German student at once.”

“ And who has Conway honored by his preference ?”

“A very pretty girl, Helen Thornton, one of the greatest heiresses in the city Come in.”

This last invitation was given in response to a tap at the door, which opened immediately after to admit a a charming visitor. A youthful angel, of some fifteen years, slender and delicate of figure, as became her age, and robed in floating misty white. There was some¬ thing striking and peculiar about the girl — it consisted in the snowy whiteness and purity of her complexion. The whole face was perfectly colorless , yet no one could have pronounced her sickly, but no Albino could cave boasted of a more perfect absence of color in th® skin. Under the clear surface you could trace every

A 0ERISTMA8 GIFT.

blue vein, and the hair, worn in profusion of Braids, was of flaxen lightness. The eyes were rather small, and of the very palest blue ; the features small and pretty ; the hands and feet tiny, and the manner sell possessed and easy, to an extraordinary degree, for that jge of transition.

Her dress of white tulle, looped up with bands of pale azure ribbon, was low-necked and short-sleeved ; and she wore a wreath of blue flowers in her pale hair. All white and azure, no one could look once without turning to gaze again on that singular face. Every human countenance, it is said, is either a history or a prophecy — hers was a prophecy, and a startling one, too, could either of the twain looking at her have read it. Doctor Lance was evidently struck, for he bent his black brows and fixed his weird eyes on her in piercing scrutiny as Mr. Hazelwood presented her.

“ My niece, Una Forest, Doctor. Una, my dear, my old friend, Doctor Lance.”

Little Miss Forest — she was small of stature, dropped hlb a pretty courtesy, filling the air with per¬ fume as she flirted out her translucent skirts.

“ Will I do, uncle ?” she asked in a sweet, childlike voice, turning round, that he might the better survey

A CHRISTMAS QIF1.

her. “ I dressed myself without any one helping m* at all. ”

“You look m pretty as a picture — doesn’t she* Doctor ?”

But the Doctor only gave a contemptuous grunt.

“ Don’t tire yourself dancing, and don’t stay to® late. What time will Jenkins go after you ?”

“Whatever time you like, uncle. Will two o’clock be too late ?”

“ Oh no — two will do nicely. Where’s your aunt V

“ Down stairs, I think. I must find her — she wants to see me, too, before I go.”

“ Have the boys come down yet ?”

“No, sir,” laughed little Miss Una. “ They take longer to dress than I do ! Why, what’s that ?”

It was a shrill scream from the hall below. Una turned to see the cause, and ran against Susan, the chambermaid, flying in, with eyes and mouth wide open, and consternation in every feature.

“ O Miss Una ! 0 Mr. Hazelwood ! Oome and ses what’s in the hall ! Oh, do come — quick !”

“ What’s in the hall, Susan ?” asked Una ; but Susan, in a wild state of excitement, ram headlong down-stairs, reiterating her entreaty to come quick 1

A CHRISTMAS GIFT .

ie

Una ran after her, and the two gentlemen, rathsi startled, followed a little less quickly. The sight that greeted them was not very startling though, after all. Directly under the blaze of the gas jets, two little children stood, tiny creatures of very little over a year, apparently ; their small figures draped in little fur cloaks, and scarlet woolen hoods on their heads. But the faces under the hoods were of exquisite beauty, rose-cheeked, black-eyed, and cherry-mouthed, and an ex¬ uberance of black ringlets fell over the fur tippets.

The babies were twins, and the pretty faces were so much alike that it was impossible to tell the smallest difference between them. There they stood, gazing around them out of their large black eyes, evidently as much astonished as to how they got there as those who stood in amazement looking at them.

Una uttered an exclamation, Mr. Hazelwood uttered another, and Dr. Lance took off his spectacles and wiped them, to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him.

No ; it was no optical delusion. There the children were ; and where they had come from, and who the^ might be, was now the question.

All turned to Susan, in silent inquiry.

ifI don’t know the first thing about ’em,” protested

A 0H&I8TMAS GIFT, ;

U

that handmaiden, with widely-distended *yes. 'Ten minutes ago I came down-stairs, and ther* was nothing in the hall ; and five minutes after, when I was coming up, there they were, as you see ’em. The bell didn’t ring ; there was no noise ; but there they stood. I ecreamed out, and ran up-stairs ; and that’s everything I know about it !”

“ Here’s a letter I” cried Una, seizing a large bufi! envelope lying on the table. “ Bead it, uncle. Perhaps it tells.”

“ The letter was addressed in a disguised hand to “Mr. Hugh Hazelwood”; and that gentleman, in a be¬ wildered state of mind, tore it open and read :

“Mr. Hazelwood — Sir: — These children are sent to you because you have the best right to take charge of them. They are your grandchildren. They are twins, and just fifteen months old. I send them to you as a Christmas-gift, which I know you will not refuse. You will adopt and educate them as your own. Give them your own name, if you choose ; it is rightfully theirs ; but if you prefer it, you may call them by their moth¬ er’s, Starr. The one dressed in blue is Bosamond ; the one in pink, Evangeline. I repeat it, they are your grandchildren, as you will learn to your cost should you attempt to discard them.

“ Yours, respectfully, Santa Claus.”

Chapter III. The Broths 23

quartet stood aghast.

Mr. Hazelwood had read the note aloud, d ‘‘Bless my soul I” was all the comment he was able to utter in his consternation.

“They are your grandchildren,” quoted Doctor Lance, with malicious emphasis. “ Remember that.”

A crimson flush of anger and incredulity rose to the face of the old gentleman.

“ It’s a vile slander ! It’s the work of some infam¬ ous being who has taken this means of securing a home for the offspring she will not rear. Anything like the cool impudence of the whole thing I never heard of ! Christmas gift, indeed ! Fll send them to the alms¬ house to-morrow. Santa Claus, whoever he or she may be, will find Mr. Hugh Hazelwood is not quite such a fool as they take him to be I”

Such an outburst on the part of even-tempered, good-natured Mr. Hazelwood was even more extraordi* nary than the mysterious apparition of the children.

TEE BROTHERS.

4$

Doctor Lance shrugged his shoulders, and scrutmizer! the two little faces through his spectacles.

“ Black eyes, black hair, fresh complexion., and good features — all characteristics of th9 Hazelwoods ? Upon my word, I begin to think there ia some truth im the letter, after all !”

“ Lance V9

Mr. Hazelwood was breaking out in & high state of temper ; but Doctor Lance only pointed with composure at the two little creatures.

“ Look for yourself, then ! Take off their mufflers and see if I am not right.”

Una obeyed the command by at once undoing the fur cloaks and scarlet hoods ; and the twins emerged at once from caterpillars, so to speak, into brightest butterflies.

Their dress was of the richest texturo and most fashionable make ; everything they wore showing plainly that money had not been spared in their outfit. The one first undressed wore a short frill dress of blue silk ; the other pink ; the short sleeves and low corsage trimmed with ermine, necklaces of coral and gold around their plump throats, fancy boots with shining buttons on their feet, richly-embroidered underclothes

THE BROTHERS.

peeping out beneath the silken skirts, and their profuse jetty ringlets falling nearly to their waists.

A prettier tableau than they made it would hare been impossible to And, as they stood side by side, looking round them with great shining wondering eyes.

Una and Susan, woman-like, uttered simultaneous exclamations ol delight.

Mr. Hazelwood melted at once ; and even the cyni* cal little Professor who believed all beauty to be a fleet¬ ing show and delusion, was betrayed into something like a glance of admiration.

“ Oh, what pretty little things 1” was Una’s cry. “ 0 Uncle Hugh ! ain’t they sweet !”

"I wish they had taken their sweetness somewhere else !” grumbled Uncle Hugh, in a subdued tone, how¬ ever. “ They’re pretty enough ; but what am 1 to do with them, I want to know ? I say ! Can they speak ?”

“ What’s your name, dear ?” Una asked, taking the little hand of the blue twin, and caressing th® pretty curls.

The two children turned their black ejm on Una’s fair face, and only stared in reply.

TEE BROTHERS.

“Tell me your name,'*’ persisted the young jkdy. “ Can’t yon speak ? What’s your name P”

“ Rosie,” answered the little one, in a sweet infan¬ tile lisp.

“Rosie what ?” asked Una, encouraged.

“ Rosie,” repeated the blue twin, still staring hard at her interlocutor.

“ And where do you come from, Rosie ?”

Una hesitated, still toying with the long curls.

But Miss Rosie had exhausted her command of the speech of Albion in that one word ; and the pink twin, whose eyes had been attracted by the wreath in Una’s hair, here made a sudden grab at it and tore it from her nead.

Susan screamed, and Una rose up.

“You little monkey I You have hands if you have no tongue. What do they call you ?”

“See, Rosie! See, Rosie!” the pink twin cried, with a gleeful laugh, holding up the flowers in triumph.

“Oh, she can speak, tool You’re Evangeline— ain’t you, Miss ?” inquired Mr. Hazelwood, lifting the pretty culprit up in his arms.

But Miss Evangeline, averse, perhaps, to this sum¬ mary mode of seizure, set up a prolonged yell, by way

TEE BROTHERS.

of reply, and struggled to get free. Mr. Hazelwood pal her precipitately down again.

“ I’ll answer for the strength of youi lungs anyway, my little virago I What under Heaven am I to dc about this, Lance ?”

“ You had better consult your sons on the subject”

“ Stuff and nonsense ! You don’t seriously mean to say you believe the infamous slander contained in this vile anonymous letter ?”

“ I believe the evidence of my senses ! Look at the faces of these infants, and see if they are not Hazel* woods.”

“Una!” exclaimed Mr. Hazelwood, struggling to repress his rising indignation, “go up-stairs and request your cousins to come down at once. Their own lips shall deny or confirm the charge. Susan, you may go.”

“ Do you really imagine for a moment, Mr. Hazel* wood,” sneered Doctor Lance, “that either of these young gentlemen will plead guilty to any proprietorship in these two young ladies ? Why, the greatest of crim¬ inals answers * not guilty ’ when the judge goes through the formula.”

Mr. Hazelwood, his usually serene thee very red?

drew himself stiffly up.

THE BROTHER®.

“My boys know how to toll the truth. Doctor Lance, poor as your opinion of them is. You may believe them or not, and I shall do the same.”

Doctor Lance smiled contemptuously, and still stared through his spectacles at the little ones, who stood wonderfully quiet, gazing around them.

Una had darted off to obey orders, and the two gen¬ tlemen were waiting in silence, when, with a strong rustling of silk, a lady swept down the staircase, her ribbons fluttering stormily in a breeze of her own mak¬ ing. A pretty lady ; fair, fat, and forty ; her ample form robed in stiff black silk, her black lace cap adorned with a plenitude of black satin streamers ; a diamond breastpin, the size of a small cheese-plate, on her broad breast ; jet eardrops in her ears, and jet brace¬ lets on her plump wrists.

It was Mrs. Wood, with her brother’s florid com¬ plexion, and the black eyes and hair of the Hazlewoods. Her black eyebrows raised very high, her black eyes ex¬ ceedingly wide open, her mouth in the same state, her hands uplifted, and her whole face full of utmost cons¬ ternation, she swept in between them like a whirlwind.

“ What is it, Hugh ? What on earth is this ? Where in the world did these two children come from r”

“That’s just what I want some one to tell myself. Fm as much in the dark as you are ! ”

“ Susan said there was a letter I Where is it ? What does it say ? ”

“My dear Emily, don’t get in such a gale ! The letter is here : but before you read it, look round you and see if you can recognize an old friend !”

Mrs. Wood for the first time turned her eyes on Doctor Lance, who made her a grave, stiff, old-fashioned bow.

“ 0 my goodness 1 Doctor Lance ! Why how do you do ? ” shaking hands with the umost effusion. “What a stranger you are ! When did you come Y*

“ Half an hour ago. I trust I see Mrs. Wood well ?”

“ Very well, thank you I And where on earth,” cried Mrs. Wood, forgetting all about the children imme¬ diately — “ have you been all these years, I declare.”

Whithout waiting for an answer ;

“ You are not the least changed ! I should have known you anywhere.”

“ And I would not have known you at all I” said Doctor Lance, in a tone that conveyed no compliment. “ Ten years have changed you sufficiently ! ”

“ Do you hear that, Emily ? he means to say you are

THE BROTHERS.

growing old and fat,” laughed Mr. Hazelwood. 44 Not much trace left of the sylph-like Emily Hazelwood— ©h, Lance ?”

Doctor Lance gaye a snort that might have implied anything, except perhaps dissent; and Mrs. Wood, who inherited her brother’s good nature, shrugged her broad shoulders and heaved a little sigh of resignation.

44 Years improve none of us, I am afraid ; and it’s better to grow stout and substantial than shrink into the 4 lean and slippered pantaloon ’ Shakespere or some¬ body else talks about. You have come to make a long visit of course, Doctor Lance ?”

44 Business requires my presence in New York for a few weeks. I shall stop no longer than is absolutely necessary, madam I”