But Jay Gardiner made no answer.
"I am sorry if I have called up bitter recollections," laughed his friend.
Then the bell sounded, and the train moved on.
Jay Gardiner turned resolutely away from the window, that he might not catch a look of the hotel.
"I wonder if my patient, Miss Rogers, and the relative this girl speaks of are one and the same person?" he asked himself.
He had once saved the life of this Miss Rogers, and since that time she had been a devoted friend of his.
She was a most kind, estimable woman, and he admired her for her n.o.ble character. Surely she could not be the lady of whom Sally Pendleton spoke so derisively?
He reached the city at last, and, without taking time to refresh himself, hurried to see who it was that needed his help.
It was eleven o"clock, and the crowds on the streets of the great metropolis had begun to thin out.
His office clerk, who was expecting him, said, in answer to his inquiry:
"It is Miss Rogers, sir. She is dangerously ill, and will have no other doctor."
"I will go to her at once," said Jay Gardiner.
But at that moment a man who had been hurt in a railway accident was brought in, and he was obliged to devote half an hour of his valuable time in dressing his wounds. Then with all possible haste he set out on his journey.
He gave orders to his driver to go to Miss Rogers" residence by the shortest route possible.
At that very moment, in another part of the city, a woman who had once been young and beautiful lay dying. The room in which she lay was magnificent in its costly hangings; the lace draperies that hung from the windows represented a fortune, the carpets and rugs which covered the floor were of the costliest description. Rare paintings and the richest of bric-a-brac occupied the walls and other available places.
Even the lace counterpane on the bed represented the expenditure of a vast sum of money. But the woman who lay moaning there in mortal pain would have given all to have purchased one hour of ease.
"Has the doctor come yet, Mary?" she asked.
"No," replied her faithful attendant, who bent over her. "But he can not be long now, my lady. It is several hours since we telegraphed for him, and I have telephoned for him every hour since. At the office they say that he has already started for here."
"Are those carriage wheels? Go to the window, Mary, and see."
The attendant glided noiselessly to the heavily draped window and drew aside the hangings.
"No," she answered, gently; "he has not yet come."
"Something must have happened, Mary," half-sobbed the sufferer; "I am sure of it."
Ay, something out of the usual had happened to Doctor Gardiner.
As his handsome brougham turned into Ca.n.a.l Street, the doctor, in looking from the window, noticed a young girl hurrying along the street.
There was something about the symmetrical figure that caused the doctor to look a second time.
He said to himself that she must be young; and a feeling of pity thrilled his heart to see one so young threading the streets at that hour of the night.
So many people were making their way through the streets that the driver was only able to proceed slowly. And thus the young girl, who had quite unconsciously attracted the doctor"s attention, kept pace with the vehicle.
Once, as Jay Gardiner caught sight of her face, he felt as though an electric shock had suddenly pa.s.sed through him. For a moment he was almost spell-bound. Where had he seen that face? Then suddenly it occurred to him that it was the _fac-simile_ of the picture he had bought abroad.
And as he gazed with spell-bound attention, much to his disgust he saw the young woman stop in front of a wine-room and peer in at one of the windows. This action disgusted the young doctor immeasurably.
"How sad that one so fair as she should have gone wrong in the morning of life," he thought.
Suddenly she turned and attempted to dart across the street. But in that moment her foot slipped, and she was precipitated directly under the horses" hoofs.
A cry broke from the lips of the doctor, and was echoed by the man on the box.
"Are you hurt?" cried Doctor Gardiner, springing from his seat and bending over the prostrate figure of the girl.
"No, no!" cried the girl, in the saddest, sweetest voice he had ever heard. "They must not find me here when they come to the door; they will be so angry!" she said, springing to her feet.
At that moment there was a commotion in the wine-room, the door of which had just been opened.
As the girl turned to look in that direction, she saw a man pushed violently into the street.
"Oh, it is father--it is father!" cried the young girl, wildly, shaking herself free from the doctor"s detaining hand. "Oh, they have killed my father! See! he is lying on the pavement dead, motionless! Oh, G.o.d, pity me! I am left alone in the wide, wide world!"
CHAPTER VII.
BERNARDINE.
Doctor Gardiner sprung forward quickly.
"You are unnecessarily alarmed, my dear young lady," he said. "The gentleman is only stunned."
So it proved to be; for he had scarcely ceased speaking when the man struggled to his feet and looked about him in dazed bewilderment.
"Oh, papa, darling, have they killed you!" sobbed the young girl, springing wildly forward and throwing her arms about the dust-begrimed man.
"I don"t know, Bernardine," he answered in a shrill voice. "I am sure every bone in my body is broken--quite sure."
"No," interrupted Doctor Gardiner, pitying the young girl in her distress; "you are only bruised. I am a doctor; if you will give me your address, I will look in and give you something when I return this way. I may return in an hour"s time, I may be as late as to-morrow morning."
"We--we--could not pay for the services of a doctor, sir," sobbed the young girl. "If there is anything the matter, I will have to take poor papa to the hospital."
"I would never go to the hospital, Bernardine," whined the man in a low tone. "That will be the last of me if I ever have to go there."
"I would make no charge whatever," said Doctor Gardiner. "My services would be rendered gratis," he added, earnestly.