CHAPTER XXVIII.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 143, 27 February 1886, Page 6

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A LITTLi: EXPERIENCE IX "SURGKRY, I Summkii melted away into autumn. October came and went, and N~ v ombor began to wrap his grey mantle ovu 11 things. But the days were all full of sunshine to Rich and Annie ; for was not life full of hope and promise to them ? They did not mind the change in the Eoason, since the lapse of every month only served to bring them nearer the goal of their desires ; for Rich had been succe. a sful in another contract with Mr Mason, while he would soon go into business for himself, and hoped by another year to bo able to mako a homo of his own. Grace, after her visit to Mi^s Waldcmar, gradually grew more reconciled to the inevitable : or if not exactly reconciled, she became less restless and sad j " A sweet, attractive Grace," her father! took to calling her now and then, when she showed him some small attention, or j performed come simplo service, which in gayer, more thoughtloas days had boon left for others to look after. " What has come over my Queen of the Campbells?" and he would look into her face half wonderingly, half sadly, as if he missed something there, even while conscious of a new charm about her. But, in spite of her resolution to the contrary, there had arisen a slight barrier between her and Annie. During the illness which had followed the discovery of Kich a engagement, this did not appeal', but after she had resumed hor place among the fanvly, Annie became conscious that an intangible something had cropt in between them to mar thoir intercourse. She did not for a moment suspect the truth, but the little cloud, whatever it was, disturbed her greatly. Sho began after a time to confine herself more to the sowing room. She feared that perhaps sho had accepted too freely the kindness which had been tendered her, and unwittingly overstepped the bounds of her proper position in the family, so she found excuses for attending more closely to her work and accompanying the family abroad Jess often. Grace was thus loft more to herself. It wa? seldom now that she could persuade Annie to drive with her ; consequently she often went out alone, and her eyes having been sharpened by her own sorrows, she became more obsorvant, of the signs of trouble in other people, and it was not an infrequent occurrence for bor to stop her carriage in some of the poorer streets of the city to relieve some of the want and misery that stared her in the faco and condemned her for previous neglect. No one knew of these atrange proceedings —-strange surely in the fashionable and elegant Miss Campbell— save her coachman, and he was pledged to secrecy. It had begun by his driving hor through a narrow and miserable street one day, when ehe was in a hurry to reach a certain point hi the city, and she had seen a little girl of perhaps nine years, who was carrying a child of about ten or twelve months in her arms, suddenly trip and fall to the ground. She lay where she had fallen a8 it unconscious, while the little one screamed with pain and terror from his bruises. Miss Campbell instantly ordered herdriver to stop and go to the assistance of the child.

The man somewhat reluctantly obeyed, protesting, however, with a shrug of his liveried shoulders, and found Jthat the little girl had broken her arm. Grace's sympathies were instantly enlhted, and, forgetting her own errand, she determined to attend to this case of suffering She asked the child where she lived. She pointed across the streot a little farther down. " Put them both in the carriage, Tom, and take them homo," Miss Campbell commanded ; and two misorable children wore lifted into the vohicle and driven to their own door, the little girl pale and faint with pain, but bravely stifling every moan, while, the little one crowed with delight at the novel pleasure of riding behind a pair of horses. Koaching the miserable abode where they lived, Grace alighted and entered it with the children. It waa her first experience in a visib of real charity. She had always given freely and generously of her incoino, whenever asked to do so, for the poor ; but never before had she penetrated their homos, to know just how theylivod, or what their necossitios might be. A low exclamation of astonishment and horror oscaped her a a the litfclo girl, one hand hanging limp and helpless by her side, opened the door of that wretched abode, and led her into a room reeking with an atmosphere which was absolutely poisonous. There were three other children in the place ; a thin, hopeless-looking woman, her eyos actually glassy from weariness and sleeplessness, was trying to 300k something over a broken stove ; while in a corner, upon a mean apology for a bed, there- lay a 1 wasted figure, from wh'ch, with almost ovory other breath, thoro camo a hacking 1 cough. With a face almost as pule as that of the child whom she had picked up, Graco told the woman what had happened, and asked what she could do for her. "Oh!" o'ied the poor mother, despairingly, as she comprehended this frosh calamity — for what could she do without tho help of hor oldest, to say nothing of this extra care that was forced upon her? 1 " Oh, Nellio, Nellie! how did you do it ?" and eho gathered the little suflbior closo in hor arms, her face full of 1 pitiful tendernes?, though her hopeloss tone made the heart of beautiful (!race Campbell acho as it never had done befoie at the sight of human woo. "Tho first thing to do in to sond fora doctor," Graco said, feeling that something ' must be done at once, and at tho sumo time roalising how utterly useless she was in such a placo, and under such circumstances. "Yes— yes; but. miss — madam—" "I am Miss Campbell," Grace inter- ' ruptcd, seeing that tho poor woman was almost da/,cd, ''and if you will trust to my judgment, I will send for some one to come '■ and set your little girl's arm. In tho mean- ' timo if you will tell mo what can be done to make her more comfortable, I will try to holp you." Sho drew off hor glovea as she spoke, and, 1 for the first time in her life, the sight of her dolicato hands, with their costly rings, was hateful to her. 1 Tho woman had found a pair of scissors, and was trying to cut away the sleeve from 1 her child's swollen arm ; but hor hands trembled so that she was in danger of doing > the girl serious injury. " Let me cut it," said Grace. i Sho could at least use a pair of scissor?, and tho sleeve wat quickly removed. "Now, Tom," she said, turning to her > coachman, "I -want you to go for Dr. 1 Williams aa quickly as you can, and tell > him-" Tho sentenco was cut short by the appearance of another figure in the doorway. 1 " Oh, Mr Hamilton !" cried the anxious I mothor in a tone of relief ; and a grave, 1 stately gentleman cntored the room, lifting ) his hat and bowing courteously to Grace as 1 he did so. " Wait a moment before you send for a physician," ho said, quietly, as he came forward, and appearing to take in the situation at a glance. " How did this happen ?" he asked, as he sat down, drew tho child gently toward him, and began to { examine the injured arm. Graco told him in a few simple words, j and then he turned again to the mother, f saying : l " Mrd Jone?, if you will trust me, I think 3 I can sat this arm, and 3ave all the pain of r waiting whilo you send for Dr. Williams. ' I nave had some experience in surgery, and feel confident that I can do this properly," "Oh, Mr Hamilton, I'll trust you in any r thing ; I know if you gay you can do it, c you can," said the woman, with unbounded faith. He aroso and placed the child in the ' chair, and, going to a small table, took from it a cigar- box that had evidently been used is a work-box, and began breaking it , apart. l "Get mo somo strong cloth," he com- , manded. . But, alas ! there was nothing of the kind u in the house. J "Tom, bring that linen duster from the carriage," Graco said to her di'iver, adding, as she turned to Mr Hamilton : "That will ' do, will it not?" ' "It will have to in the absence of someJ thing better," he answered, sweeping a look over her elegantly clad figure, which made hor feel as if sho had no business to wear such clothing, when ao many about ker were in need of tho bare necessaries of life. '. The duster was brought, and Grace ' grasped it eagerly, j " You want a bandaqo," she said, quick to comprehend for what it was needed ; " tell me how wide, and I will cut it for ) you." "About three inches wide, and cut me two strips the longest way of tho cloth, " the ; gentleman commanded. ; Miss Campbells white jewelled hands \ worked to some purpose now, if they never had before, and by the time Mr Hamilton , had finished his rude splints— and they were not so rude either— sho had two straight, ', strong bandages ready for him. "Now roll them tightly, like— this," he said, beginning it for, her, and two neat, tight rolls grew beneath her deft fingers. ' "Are your nerves strong?" questioned the gentleman as she passed the bandages to him. "I do not know," she answered, losing some of her colour, but meeting his glance frankly ; " I have never had them tested like this before, But," with a slight uplifting of the head, a little settling of her beautiful lips, "if you need me, I will try to help you." " I think you can," he said, his glance softening ; then taking the child's arm firmly in his hands, ,it was all over almost before sho could have thought it possible, though the sharp, agonized shriek which rang through the room as tho bones slipped into place made her dizzy and the light grow dim for a moment. "Now give me one of those rolls and pass it around this arm as I tell you," Mr Hamilton ordered, when he had adjusted his splints, and instantly forgetting self, the fashionable belle lent her aid with all her heart, obeying every direction, quickly and steadily, until all was done. How she admired that grand man as he worked so calmly and skilfully, his own hands scarcely less white than here, but so

useful, and making no false, uncertain motions. How neatly he bandaged that wounded arm and hung it in a sling made from more of the linen duster 1 while the little girl, though weak and faint, was relioved from the torture of those grating bones, and looked up into his face with a grateful, trustful expression. No experienced surgeon, she thought, could have done better, and when all was finished to his mind, he took the child up in his arm 3, carried her to an old battered sofa, and laid her down upon ifc as gentS as if she had been his own suffering daughter Then he gave some directions to the 1 mother about keeping the arm wet, after which he went over to the opposite corner of the room and spoke kindly to the sick man lying there. {To be Continued.)