The evening world. Newspaper, May 4, 1916, Page 16

THe a reveer018) Story PUPPETS The first of a series of separate stories deal- ing with the commission of crimes, inviting judgment upon both responsibility. (Copyright, 1916, by Mrs. Wilson Woodrow.) N the prettiest little street of the pretty little suburb stood a pretty little house, And, on the house's tiny front porch, one January morning, two young people important bit of work bore the name: “DR, BULLARD.” man, as the Jast nail was driven into place, and he stepped back to survey the effect, “There!” proudly remarked the glass eye of a blind man, to the effect that Pm the all I need, to be « thun i big site His wife laughed tolerantly at his “We have done all we can,” ee Come inside, Geor her, “even if it were only my “You'd i should probably worry myself sick ove “Don't do it, Esther!" he admon- ished, playfully. “By the laws of this State, a doctor is forbidden to prac- tice or operate on his own wife. We'd have to send for old Clarke, And I'd hate to do that, We're the only peo- ple in town, us it is, who aren't pa- tents of his. As jong as he lives, or until the place grows a good deal, afraid Le'll get all the practice. “LT don't believe it,” she denied stoutly, as they re-entered the house and he followed her into his newly- furnished office, As soon as people find out what « splendid doctor you are they will flock to you, Professor Kindenborg told me himself that you were one of the cleverest surgeons had ever worked under him “But no one around here knows that,” objected Bullard, “And in the n time they all go to Dr, Clarke. 3 ing short of « miracle would teach them that I"— A cry of absolute horror — from Msther broke in on his light words, ‘The “miracle” iad happened--the mir- acie that was to make this newcom- cr’s skill known to his fellow-towns- folk. While they talked, Esther had been carelessly gluncing out of the window At a group of children, coasting on the hill outside. She had r nized one dainty little girl as Alice Clark the ten-yeur-uld daughter of Bullard'y competitor, The child was whizzing down the Wil Um her sled, when un automobile turned the ve into the street. The car Was going at high speed and the chauffeur suw too late the advancing sled. Directly in front of the Bullard house the automobile and the sled collided, Esther's shriek brought Dr. Bullard to the window at a bound, A moment later he was in the stre Kneeling in the snow alongside the limply huddled figure of the child “She is Dr. Clark i said to the chauffeur who jum down from the wheel and ran, ash faced, to where hia vietiin lay know where he lives? Good, there as fust us you can, If he at bome, fir him, fell bim w has happencd and bring bim here to my house. Quick.” While he was speaking, he gathered the senseless child into his arms and hurried into the house with her, Lay- ing the pitifully helpless body on his operating table. he bent above it, his deft fingers searching for the injury; while Esther stood at his side, shak- ing with terror, MErhe skulls’ fractured,” ho said, present! 1 must operate without & minute's delay, if her life is to be saved, ‘There's no time to walt for a nurse. You'll have to help me. Bt your nerves, if you can, Is & ter of life or death.” Swiftly, with @ sure skill, he get to work, At his curt orders | Ksthor brought him the instruments ane other requisites Ae needed, In his ork he was no longer the bovis young lover-husband, but @ grim and splendidly efficient general, conducting a Winning battle against death itself, Ksther hi like thi 1 never before seen him And her usually reserved Hature thrilled with admiration at hie emarkalble ability. After & battle that seemed to the watching woinan to last for hours, he stepped back and drew # long sigh of reliet. “It's over,” he said. “McBurney or Colfax couldn't have done it better. Bhe will live. You're a brick, Esther. No trained nurse could have helped me more skilfully, Sit down, You look all in. 1 wonder-—— The front door burst open and three people came tumbling into the hallway, One was 4 silver-haired man; the two others were women, Bullard recognized the man as his protessional rival, Dr. Clarke, The older of the two women he knew for Vlarke's wife, The second woman-— & stately and handsome brunette—-he Yad never before seen. He hastened out into the allway to meet his un bidden sucsts, “She is alive?” gasped Dr, Clarke, his throat sanded dry with terror, “She is alive? “She will get well,” calmly replied Bullard, “Come tn and see for your- self, Esther, will you try to reassure Mrs, Clarke while we'ie gone?” The two men puxsed into the office, closing the door belind them, leaving Hether Bullard to soothe h terical Mrs, Clarke as best she could. Presently, the weeping mother was made to understand that her child Was out of danger, and whe strove to steady herself. “We were at home gl the time!” he told Eather. “All the time! And that stupid chauffeur mistook house; and he drove all around town for a full hour before he could find it. Sylvia was spending the day with us and=-oh, I forget to introduce you, Mrs, Bullard, this is Mrs, Sand The two women shook hands, Ry!- via Sanda with easy cordiality, Esther with some reserve. Esther had heard much of this wealthy young widow who was the suburb's adored social leader, On her dead husband's money Mrs. Sands was even now building an enormous hospital on the outskirts of the tows. Bullard hed eppited, OOO OOOO Or, and the other was still busier in directing the job. The task, on which the good looking young man was employed, and which his fragile, fair-haired wife superintended, was the fastening of a glaringly now sign to the clapboards at the left of the front dvor. I wish I could print something under my name livest young doctor this town ever suw, and that said, You'll cateh cold out here “Well, I'd have one patient then, anyway,’ © me for @ patient, too,” she THE EVENING WORLD, XG VS WY CVD 1B 81 BVBY VG YG v5 1 GS OLS YE 10 HS 16 1410 16101610161 BL 6y0 (0161016 10180 Ve vVevevereveye O’S GUILTY? » 19161016 (016,678 erereen No. 1 OF FATE actual guilt and real were engaged in @ most tremendously rather, one of them was busy working The sign ought to cateh the 84, 18 @ whole lot of rich patients.” sh speech, “The patients must do the rest. without an overcoat.” he returned, stooping to kiss b answered, “for if you were ill I r you. through friends, for a position as Nouse surgeon in it; and his applica. tion had been refused. This alone would nave set Esther against Sylvia Sands, And now that she met her for the first time, face to face, she disliked her as a type, Still as hostess, she vas trying to think of something civil to say, when Bullard and Dr, Clarke came out of the office into the hall, As they ap. peared, the women heard Clarke say- ing in very evident respect and grati- tude: “1 never saw a finer bit of emer- gency work in all my experience, Dr, Bullard, if you will allow me to euy so. My little girl owes her lite to Te dat forget this.” DEAR,” SHE FALTERE MUSTERING HER STRENGTH FOR THE EFFORT AT SPEEC! such praise from older practi- tioner, thanked his rival bri fy, inak- ing light of his own service She did and said nothing he could Esther, Everybody was nice to h to relieve the situation, he turi resent. But she was no longer quite She s Dr. Clarke's right and he greet Mrs, Clarke, whom he bai his chum as ip the earliest days of proved a most entertaining host. But but once before, ‘She Introduced him thelr brief wedded life. Vaguely, he always she found he ice straying to Mrs, Sands. And Bullard found Tosented this. ‘The resentment made from him across to where George sat himself fuce td face, for the fret 2M irritable. And this further wid- between his hostess and Sylvia 3: tine, with the widow whose will was &ned tho little breach between them. Sylvia was looking her very best to be law in the new general hose _G®rge could not know that the in a ¢ te black velvet dress. She pital, poor girl was suffering agonies of was monopolizing George Bullard’s His glance, as their eyes mot, was Jealousy: that she would rather have attention to the exclusion of every one cise, Their heads were close together and they were talking earnestly. Esther, deaf to the story Dr. Clarke was tell- ing, strained her ears in vain to catch him a@ failure than to feel he owed any of his success to Sylvia Sands. Whenever he was d from home for an unduly loi she made certain he was full of appreciation, not for her own beauty and haughty charm of man. ner; but for the good she was doing to humanity, by the building of the hospital, 0 looking Esther did not belong to the breed some fragment of their conversation. mination ony thie Wake in open ad~ oe woman who Nercely. renente a sup- Falling, sho imagined a violent flirta- Who had Just Won so Hered me Guat Bosed sieht or who battles to hold tion was going on. aginst. death, Whose Sl) Was et the love she feels is being stolen from She gathered this from the earnest at as to call forth high praise NN. All she could do wan to fed! look in Sylvia's eyes as she spoke to from an orient a cplyaolec res, edly unhappy, and to mask George at some length; and by the Clarke, , 7 her unhappiness in a cold reserve of flush aa the saphenlon oF utter ee bit " 5 manner, ture that sprang Into his fave as she glances, An Wnnremanta te anes Of Aw a matter of fact, George Bullard finished epraking. Jealousy shot through. her, sesring ‘a8 not in the very least in love with Ivia had been telling Bullard her to the very soul.” From that mer S¥lvia Sands, nor was the stately some of her plans for the hospital's ment she cordially disliked “Sylvia SUN widow ot all in love with lim. improvement. She ended her story Sands, and some little mistrust of her handsome husband stirred for the first time in her breast Bullard quickly began to reap the benefits of his clever surgical opera- tion on Alice Clarke, Tho tale of the operation spread near and far. So did Dr. Clarke's hearty praise of ble Bullard looked on Sylvia merely as by a brilliant and attractive woman who brought out his best wit as a talker nd Who sharper and stimulated his intellect. Ho also hoped sho might be prevailed on to give him some position in the new hospital. via, for her part, saying to him: “De. Bullard, 1 have been talking matters over with the Board of Directors to-day. And I have brought them around to my way of thinking. We want you to accept the post of chief surgeon at the hospital.’ Bullard, for an instant, was dumb ded Bul- rival. So, too, did Sylvia's glowing lard asa clever man married to a with happiness. ‘This offered position accounts of the saving of Alice's life, stupid wife; a young fellow whose had been beyond bis wildest dreams, Patients began to fill Bullard’s carcer was hampered by Esther's lack Jt made his whole future secure. anteroom. In greater and greater of sympathetiv understanding, “Oh, how can I thank you, Mrs. numbers they came, Other remark- With the same spirit that urges Sands!’ he exclaimed, when he could able cures quickly spread his fame philanthropists to pay for the educa- speak t is the highest honor that through the growing community, tion of promising singers, Sylvia 7 could receive, Vil do all in my Instead of starving as he bad longed to du something to help George pow to prove worthy of it.” feared, he found himself with a com- make a mora shining success of his know you will,” she laughed, fortable and steadily increasing prac- surei genius, And, in her mind, “and T have no doubts at all as to tice, r Through Sylvia and the Clarkes, he met soclally the best people, and was invited eevrywhere, ‘Truly, for an obscure newcomer, ho was ‘fortune'a plan for his tmmediate betterment was shaping itself, So matters stood on the evenin, a dinner party given by the ¢ a dinner at which George and Esthe the wirdom of my choice, Can you call at my house to-morrow evening I'll telephone tor the estate's to be there and to bring the al appointment popers for us forr favorite, And he rejoiced in boyish were to be guests of honor, both to sign. Here is to your suve fashion at his good luck Hsther at first dec! to George coss!” One thing alone marred his happl- that she would not go ding that As she spoke she picked up the Ness. Esther's attitude toward him she was tired and that she had been glass of wine in front of her and had lately undergone a subtle but ailing, more or less, for days. But drained it, distinct change—a change he neither Bullard coaxed her into changing her — At the action Esther thrust back understood nor liked. mind by telling her how much he her own chair and, very white of Instead of sharing in his bolster- needed the Clarkes’ help in his con- face, rose from the table, ous joy at his professto: and social tinued succass nd how fatal it "Dr, Clarke, she sald in a low success, she actually seemed to ra- might be to offend them by sceming voice, “I am not well. (am going sent it. She was no longer the jolly to slight their hospitality. into the library to le down. comrade of other days, but was quiet- It was not a formal dinner, Thera “Let me go with you,” insisted her er, less demonstrative; decidedly cool- were but ten at the table, And the host, all solicitude at her pallor and er in her manner, meal begin pleasantly enough for her unwonted brightness of eye, FT ALONE WITH BULLARD, SYLVIA SANDS WASTED NO TIME IN OPENING THE 8) OF HI8 MARITAL TROUBL THURSDAY, MAY 6 (WBS 01 8 BY 8 YR 6 6 ay BYRYRCYSLRIEVEYEYEY”S RYO YEYBVBYG1GVGYSYOYCYSYSYSY OGY BYSYEYG1RY SYR SV SYS IBY GYGYSYSYRYSYEYEYGYSISYSTSTSVSISYSOIG) < An Interesting Series of Pathe Photoplays to be Presented at Leading Motion Picture Theatres in New York Beginning May 8. Despite her lett rovin with her, George Bullard noted Esther's de- parture. He knew her well enough to recognize her pallor as rising from ill-temper rather than mere ill-health, He detested ig like # scene, Esther had m self conspicuous by quitting the table in the middle of protest he the dinner, And he scowled. Dr, Clarke, following Esther into the adjoining Ibi led her to a couch, ,8ut she protested crossily that she was not ill enough to lic down, Choosing @ chair, instead, she seated herself, In answer to her host's look of puzzled inquiry, she said: m sorry to interrupt your dinner. Please go back. 1 told the truth when I sald T was not well. But that is not the reason T left the table, J left because 1 don't like to dine with women who drink.” ‘But,” stummered the amazed doc- tor, “surely” —~— “Iam speaking of Mrs. Sands,” went on Esther, ulmost hysterical in her anger, “Not content with flirting abominably with my husband, she is drinking heavily, I suw her empty a Whole glass of wine at a silgle draugh Dr, Clarke laughed aloud, “Why, my dear Mrs, Bullard,” he explained, “that wine is the mildest wort of Barsac. She could drink a art of it without affecting her. he principle is the same,” snap- ped Esther, “and she was flirting with’ “Mrs, Bullar more gravely, enough to be terested in both ¢ And 1 owe him 4," said 1am Dr. Clarke, n old man—old r father, Tam in oF and yourself, my only child's life, So will you let me speak plainly? I've known Sylvia since she was in pigtails. And tere is not an atom of harm in her. She is eager for your husband to make the best of himself, But only becsuse she regards him as a young man with a great. future. She is not flirting with him.” “Your husband has a chance for a wonderfull career, Sylvia, as [I hap- pen to know, jis trying to help that career along. Think twice before you antagonize her or do anything else to injure George's chances.” “UL don’t want him to succeed If he has to owe it to her,” sobbed Esther. Hefore Dr. Clarke could answer, Sylvia's votco came to them through the closed dining-room door, Mrs. Sands was making an announcement to the whole tabletul and bad there- fore spoken more loudly than was her wont. “Dr. Bullard has just agreed to be chief surgeon at the hospital,” she aid. “I propose a toast to his suc- cess there.” “There!” said Dr, Clarke, in tri- umph, ‘that's the secret of the ‘flirta- tion.’ T knew it all along. Sylvia told me, Isn't it splendid news?" When the others trooped into the Mbrary after dinner (for the men did not linger, to-night, in the dining- room) Bullard hurried across at once to where his wife sat, Grand news!" he exulted. "Glori- ous news, dear! I'll give you a thou- sand guesses!” “T don't need to guess, said Esther, coldly, “Il heard your friend Mrs. Sands scream it through the dining- room door, She also proposed to drink in your honc Or rather, in your dishono “But—but, ther,” he said, crest- fallen, “aren't you glad of my ap- pointment?” "I don't wonder you are pleased about it" she went on, “for, of course, it will bring you oftener into contact with her. And that seems to be the chief object." “Psther!” he cried, indignant. “How cab you eay such an insane thing? Sires “Please take me home,” she broke in, wearily, "Such drinking bouts disgust me. T shall have to ask you to attend these orgies without me, after this.” Bullard made as though to answer sharply; then he checked himself and went over to his huste “Mrs, Bullard is he sald. # ad we must Tam s without a word of fa left the room with her husband via, standing beside Mrs, atarted after them in amused tempt. “That In the most t1l-bred, iIl-tem- pered woman I ever had the bad ill Syl- Clarke, con- 4, 1916, | WANT YOU TO OPERATE ON ME. fortune to meet!" she exclaimed, “She hangs like a millstone around her husband's neck. She'll drag him down, if he isn’t save: “Well, my_ de placid Mrs, Clarke. of ours to save him. come between “Well, I think I'm going to tell him frankly what I think of her, and of what a handicap she is to him. I understand it was a pboy-and-girl match. He met her when she was teaching school in some little back- woods town where she was born and brought up. He was young, and he mistook her narrow priinness for saintliness., He is out-sgrowing her, And he has begun to find out how unfit she is to be lis wife, T could see that, to-night. I'm going to have a sensible talk with him about st.” Sylvia was as good as her word, Next morning at 9 the estate lawyer called on her by appointment, bring- ing with him the various official papers relative to George Bullard'’s new position at the hospital, Bullard, who had arrived a minute or two earlier, read and signed the docu- ments, and the lawyer departed to catch the 9.90 train back to the city, Left alone with Bullard, Sylvia Sands wasted no time in opening the subject of his marital troubles, “Dr, Bullard,” she began, “I think IT have shown, by choosing you as chief surgeon, that I have your welfare at heart, “Indeed you have!" he said grate- fully, “and if ever there is any way IT can prove" You can," she caught him up. "You can prove it, here and now, by listening putiently to what I have to say and hy promising not to get angry philosophized “Its no, affair One can't very husband and or offended.’ “What nonsense!” he laughed, “as if T could possibly ‘get angry or of- with you! ‘OM promise. then?” romise,” he said gayly, away!" *But she did not echo his sayety. “It's ubout your wife,” she said, Bullard frowned, not at her pre- sumption, but at unpleasant memones awakened by mention of his wife, “lam going to speak very frank) continued Sylvia, “Ihave watched you both for a lung time, And I long ago came to a decision that dozens of other people have arrived at about you, She is doubtless a very good woman and she would have made an excellent wife for some up-State farmer, But you are not an up-State farmer, You are the most brilliant and capable doctor in this region. You are rising steadily. “There is no height in your profes- wion that you can’t hope to reach— if you aren't dragged down. But your wife impedes every forward step you try to take. She is not in sym- Pathy with you. She ts a wet-blanket to your ambitions, She is a clog to your progress. She may wreck your career and drag you back into the mass of middle-aged failures in _an- other ten years tf you let her, This is not pleasant talk. But it ts tr And probably you know It is true George wondered at himself for Mstening with such docility to the very same ideas that had been run- ning through his own head so per- elstently of late. Sia months ago he would have been furious with any man or woman who could have dared to hint that Esther had a single fault. Yet now, for some reason, he was not only listening, but was mentally agreeing with every word. Truly, that first lttle rift of jeal- ousy had curried Esther and himself far, far asunder! “She is not genuinely intelligent,” pursued Sylvia, gaining courage as George did not reply. "She 1s stu- pidly Jealous, She crudges the time you spend from her in the interests of your patients, She is meanly fealous of this new appointinent of yours, She has not the {magination to appreciate a genius like yourself. Your future Will be destroyed unless—unles “Unless?” echoed Goorge, a of himself, yet listening ea the woman's answer, Unless vou tear vourself free from her,” said Sylvia, “as you would cut away a malignant growth from your body. You have your own life to live your own destiny to fulfil, You owe It to yourself and to your fellow men to make the very best of your wonderful abiliti You cannet do that with such @ wife, Frankly, Dr. “Fire 1 Novelization By Wilson Woodrow Mrs. or eee She ts dead!’ Bullard chattered ho: between gasps for breath. Veeder OC ee eee ee rsely “Esther! I killed her! She wanted me to operate. | did. I kept my mind on it—for a time. Then, all at once—just when the next stroke - had to be true as a hairline my mind wavered. and—this evening!” Bullard, why don’t you divorce her?” “Divorce her?” repeated Bullard, dully, wondering again that he felt no resentment at Sylvia’s brutal out- epokennes: and why the suggestion of freedom gave hin such a thrill of Jo: Yes," reiterated the woman, “dl- vorce her, You are making a’ good living. You can give ber enough moncy to keep her in comfort. In time she can marry a man in her own class and be happy after her own atilted fashion, And for a time” (he fancied her rich voice grew softer @nd that her eyes took on a look of meaning), “after a time perhaps you can find ‘some woman who is more nearly your intellectual and social equal, sone woman, even, of wealt! whose fortune can carry you to the very top of your profession—who can make you world-famous.’ George was aware once more of that strange thrill of joyous hope. Success had mounted to his brain like strong liquor, The glittering future Sylvia was so vividly sketching daz- with {ts brilliance, After The telephone in the next room rang sharply. Sylvia answered it. Presently she came back to him, her eyes troubled and her manner less firmly assured than before. "Dr. Clarke would Ike to speak to you,” she sald. Wondering, Bullard went over to the telephone and took up the re- ceiver. Dr. Clarke's voice, charged with anxiety, came to him as from a great distance. “Bullard!” Clarke was saying, “I've ‘phoned everywhere for you, and Mrs. Bullard didn’t know where you'd I tried Sylvia's house as a last Your il, very iM! George aghast. ‘ very ill,” came the answer, he sent for me carly, in the ev ning because she couldn't locate you, She complained of a vtolent earache, then of puins back of the and along the left side of the It's been getting steadily worse, It—it looks like acute mastoiditis.” *Mastoiditis! habbled George, nd Lord! You're not mistaken?" m afraid not, And—and it looks like a case for immediate operation, She's erying for you. And”. But Bullard had left the telephone nd was half way to the outer hall, where he had left his hat and over- uw. (3 Mrs. Bullard is dangerously 111," he called to Sylvia as he hurried ou “You'll forgive me tf T go at once As he strolied homeward Rullard’s heart was sick with apprehension, Mastoiditis! None knew better than he the perils of that treacherous malady which so suddenly and so inexplicably inflames the delicate cells between the outer and Inner layers of the mastoid bone, directly back of the ear and at the base of a lobe of the brain. It is a disease that wastes no time in developing and that, in a few hours, may turn a supposed well per- son into a corpse. Its whole brief course is one continuous and increas ing torture. Its cure in extreme cases depends entirely on an immediate surgical operation—an operation so delicate that the very slichtest mis- take in direction or the tiniest wav- ering of the scalpel means immediate death, The coolest nerve, the steadiest hand, the most skilled brain must be his who would perform such an op- eration, George Bullard had per- formed several of them during the past winter, for mastoditis had swept the town an after effect of His mastoid operations had been successful. Yet he fully realized how close a race he had run with death each time, Now that his own wife was the suf- ferer, he could not look on the case with his wonted professional coolness, The ill news brought back for the moment somo of his old tenderness tor Esther. Hoe was just then nearer to her tn syiirit than he had been for many a long day. When he arrived at hia own house, Esther was not there. So urgent was the case that Dr. Clarke, on his own responsibility, had had her taken to the new hospital. And thither Bul- lard hastened to follow. Esther lay, very still a cot ina res room, Her eyes ‘were closed, but she was no* uncon- scious. Indeed, as she Jay there, awaitin; the operation, her mind seeme clearer than for months. Many things ebe now saw with infinitely moi clearness than of late—her husband's acquaintance with Sylvia Sands, among other matters. She realized, ail at onoe, how cause- less had been her mad jealousy; how she had wronged both Bullard and Sylvia; how needlessly unhappy she had made the man who loved her, In- stead of encouraging him, she had held aloof from him and from his hopes and ambitions, And she saw how her aloofness must have cut him to the very soul. Worst of all, she had openly doubted his loyalty, his love for her, She had shown him that she trusted him no longer, That must have been anguish to his sensitive heart, And at the thought her pain-sick eyes filled with hot tears of remorse. She loved him so! And she had made him so unhappy! She prayed for a chance, before the end, to prove to him that her love and her faith hed come back to hi If God would spare her fe she would inake up to him for all her il- temper and coldness and distrust, If only——= “I's a pity Dr, Bullard can't per- form the operation.” she heard one of the nurses whisper to tho other, “He ts by far t st surgeon any- where around he THE SECOND “WHO'S GUILTY” STORY “THE TIGHT REIN” WILL BE PUBLISHED THURSDAY, MAY 11 I remembered, all at once, you ~——_ They thoucht she was unc But the whispered words © her the solution sty ht—the solution to the problem that was so cruelly dis- tressing her “Tcan show n& ious. vith in him!" she fold herself, blissfuliv. “I can show it by putting my life in his hands-- by asking him to perfoen the opera. tion instead of Dr. Clarke! ‘Then he will Know how I trust him and love him.” Presently Bullard and Dr. Clarke came into the room. George, still stirred by that temporary feeling of tenderness, crossed to the bed and knelt down by the sick woman, taking her fever-dry hands in his own cool grasp, ," she faltered, mustering all aint strength for the effort at speech. “Dear, | want yout to oper: home, You. Not Ur, Clarke, Win mu—to make me happy?” “It's—it's against the law,” mut- tered George "To blue blazes with the law, at a time like this!” wh 1 Clarke who had overheard » ahead and operate, Bullard. You've a younger nd steadier and cleverer hand and brain than FFU act your as- sistant. Do it, man! ner wish It may be the saving of her, to know 2s nn hands instead of an out- sider's UN—UN do it,” faltered George, He bent over and kissed the hot lips of the woman who was his wife And, even in that moment, as her feeble arms stole lovingly around his neck, he all at once found himself thinking of his talk with Sylvia, He tried to force the memory out of his mind. But ever it kept creeping hack, battling with tls impulse of love and gentle tidings of Esther's ened within him Midnight had struck. Sylvia had sat long and in deep thought, in front of her living room fire, after Bullard’ sudden departure. In a reverie she sat there, her eyas fixed on the glows ing embers At last the dyinz down of the fire and the cold that struck through the room reminded her of the lateness of the hour. She rose from her chair and liftec hand to switch off the electric lights, Rut her arm halted before it could reach the light-switeh, Steps—heavy. pring steps sounded on the veranda stair and stagwered across . toward the front door, servants had long since gone ‘earless, aid moved by en- to who her late caller might he, she went to the front door and threw it open just as the ‘steps reached the threshold. Into the hallw lurched a truly horirble figure—the figure of a man Vivia instinctively shrank back into the stronger licht of the Hving room, The man followed, and stood at last Within the radius of the lamp glow. It was George Bullard. But Sylvia had to look a second thie at him te make certain, For he bore little re- semblance to the well groomed and debonair George Bullard she had hitherto known, He was hatless. His hatr hune dankly over his wet forehead. His fac distor In its haggard H es were bloodshot and wild, Cold sweat poured from his face and from his clenched hands. He was in his chirt sleeves, just as when he had torn off the all-envelop- ine operation apron. His mouth hune open he breathed like a spent race: “Dr. Bullard!" eried Sylvia, doubt ine her own senses. “She is dead!" ho ¢ ly between his casp: 4s dead! T killed an attered hoarae- for breath, "She broke in Svlvia in terror, ot—not "—~ “Yos!" he panted, “Esther! She is dead. She wanted me to operate. T did. IT kept my mind on it-—for a time. Then, all at once—just when the next stroke had to be as true as a hair line”—— “Yes?” she breathed, as he stran- gled and fought for breath “My mind wavered, T remembered all at once, you—and—this eve- ning’ “Don' she eried out, in horror. “Don't speak of such a thing—now! Don't think it!” “1 did think it," he mumbled, thickly. “I thought it, Just when f heeded all my nerve and iny steadi- ness. I couldn't hold the scalpel steady. It shook—tt shook and”—— “Horrible! Horrible!” she moaned, her hands over her fice. “She's dead!” he cried, “She's dead! I killed her. If T could have kept my hand steady”—— ‘The woman took an imperious step toward him. Her © had lost ite panic terror, It was imperious in its stern indignation “Leave me! she commanded “Leave the house!" Your presence de. files my whole house! Gol", “But*—— he muttered, as if in half- delimium, “you told me—you told ee *T gala ‘Alvorce,’" sho interrupted, with a shudder that convulsed her, * ‘divorce.’ Not—not ‘death!’ Go!" He turned and, groping his wiv. stumbled out of the room and out into the darkness of the winter night Sylvia Sands was tie last person in town to see Bullard, Never again did he appear there, Yet, years and years later, the luck - Jess inmates of a slum lodging h in a city on the other edge of the con tinent, used to nudge each other at it of a certain fellow-lodger--a ragged and unshaven outeast who had an unpleasunt habit of disturbing their sleep by crying out sometimes in inortal anguish, at dead of night: “Esther! Asther!” (End of the First Story.)