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the wall； listening to the occasional rumbles of talk without being able to
catch a word of it。 And then of a sudden there rose out of the silence the
strangest little piping cry； and Mrs。 Peyton screamed out in her delight and
the man ran into the parlour and flung himself down upon the horse…hair
sofa； drumming his heels on it in his ecstasy。 But often the great cat Fate
lets us go only to clutch us again in a fiercer grip。 As minute after minute
passed and still no sound came from above save those thin； glutinous cries；
Johnson cooled from his frenzy of joy； and lay breathless with his ears
straining。 They were moving slowly about。 They were talking in
subdued tones。 Still minute after minute passing； and no word from the
voice for which he listened。 His nerves were dulled by his night of
trouble； and he waited in limp wretchedness upon his sofa。 There he still
sat when the doctors came down to hima bedraggled； miserable figure
with his face grimy and his hair unkempt from his long vigil。 He rose as
they entered； bracing himself against the mantelpiece。
〃Is she dead？〃 he asked。
〃Doing well；〃 answered the doctor。
And at the words that little conventional spirit which had never known
until that night the capacity for fierce agony which lay within it； learned
for the second time that there were springs of joy also which it had never
tapped before。 His impulse was to fall upon his knees； but he was shy
before the doctors。
〃Can I go up？〃
〃In a few minutes。〃
〃I'm sure； doctor； I'm veryI'm very〃 he grew inarticulate。 〃Here
are your three guineas； Dr。 Pritchard。 I wish they were three hundred。〃
〃So do I；〃 said the senior man； and they laughed as they shook hands。
Johnson opened the shop door for them and heard their talk as they
stood for an instant outside。
〃Looked nasty at one time。〃 〃Very glad to have your help。〃
〃Delighted； I'm sure。 Won't you step round and have a cup of
coffee？〃
〃No； thanks。 I'm expecting another case。〃
The firm step and the dragging one passed away to the right and the
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left。 Johnson turned from the door still with that turmoil of joy in his
heart。 He seemed to be making a new start in life。 He felt that he was a
stronger and a deeper man。 Perhaps all this suffering had an object then。
It might prove to be a blessing both to his wife and to him。 The very
thought was one which he would have been incapable of conceiving
twelve hours before。 He was full of new emotions。 If there had been a
harrowing there had been a planting too。
〃Can I come up？〃 he cried； and then； without waiting for an answer； he
took the steps three at a time。
Mrs。 Peyton was standing by a soapy bath with a bundle in her hands。
From under the curve of a brown shawl there looked out at him the
strangest little red face with crumpled features； moist； loose lips； and
eyelids which quivered like a rabbit's nostrils。 The weak neck had let the
head topple over； and it rested upon the shoulder。
〃Kiss it； Robert！〃 cried the grandmother。 〃Kiss your son！〃
But he felt a resentment to the little； red； blinking creature。 He could
not forgive it yet for that long night of misery。 He caught sight of a white
face in the bed and he ran towards it with such love and pity as his speech
could find no words for。
〃Thank God it is over！ Lucy； dear； it was dreadful！〃
〃But I'm so happy now。 I never was so happy in my life。〃
Her eyes were fixed upon the brown bundle。
〃You mustn't talk；〃 said Mrs。 Peyton。
〃But don't leave me；〃 whispered his wife。
So he sat in silence with his hand in hers。 The lamp was burning dim
and the first cold light of dawn was breaking through the window。 The
night had been long and dark but the day was the sweeter and the purer in
consequence。 London was waking up。 The roar began to rise from the
street。 Lives had come and lives had gone； but the great machine was
still working out its dim and tragic destiny。
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SWEETHEARTS。
It is hard for the general practitioner who sits among his patients both
morning and evening； and sees them in their homes between； to steal time
for one little daily breath of cleanly air。 To win it he must slip early from
his bed and walk out between shuttered shops when it is chill but very
clear； and all things are sharply outlined； as in a frost。 It is an hour that
has a charm of its own； when； but for a postman or a milkman； one has the
pavement to oneself； and even the most common thing takes an ever…
recurring freshness； as though causeway； and lamp； and signboard had all
wakened to the new day。 Then even an inland city may seem beautiful；
and bear virtue in its smoke…tainted air。
But it was by the sea that I lived； in a town that was unlovely enough
were it not for its glorious neighbour。 And who cares for the town when
one can sit on the bench at the headland； and look out over the huge； blue
bay； and the yellow scimitar that curves before it。 I loved it when its
great face was freckled with the fishing boats； and I loved it when the big
ships went past； far out； a little hillock of white and no hull； with topsails
curved like a bodice； so stately and demure。 But most of all I loved it
when no trace of man marred the majesty of Nature； and when the sun…
bursts slanted down on it from between the drifting rainclouds。 Then I
have seen the further edge draped in the gauze of the driving rain； with its
thin grey shading under the slow clouds； while my headland was golden；
and the sun gleamed upon the breakers and struck deep through the green
waves beyond； showing up the purple patches where the beds of seaweed
are lying。 Such a morning as that； with the wind in his hair； and the spray
on his lips； and the cry of the eddying gulls in his ear； may send a man
back braced afresh to the reek of a sick…room； and the dead； drab
weariness of practice。
It was on such another day that I first saw my old man。 He came to
my bench just as I was leaving it。 My eye must have picked him out
even in a crowded street； for he was a man of large frame and fine
presence； with something of distinction in the set of his lip and the poise
of his head。 He limped up the winding path leaning heavily upon his
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stick； as though those great shoulders had become too much at last for the
failing limbs that bore them。 As he approached； my eyes caught Nature's
danger signal； that faint bluish tinge in nose and lip which tells of a
labouring heart。
〃The brae is a little trying； sir；〃 said I。 〃Speaking as a physician； I
should say that you would do well to rest here before you go further。〃
He inclined his head in a stately； old…world fashion； and seated himself
upon the bench。 Seeing that he had no wish to speak I was silent also；
but I could not help watching him out of the corners of my eyes； for he
was such a wonderful survival of the early half of the century； with his
low…crowned； curly…brimmed hat； his black satin tie which fastened with a
buckle at the back； and； above all； his large； fleshy； clean…shaven face shot
with its mesh of wrinkles。 Those eyes； ere they had grown dim； had
looked out from the box…seat of mail coaches； and had seen the knots of
navvies as they toiled on the brown embankments。 Those lips had smiled
over the first numbers of 〃Pickwick；〃 and had gossiped of the promising
young man who wrote them。 The face itself was a seventy…year
almanack； and every seam an entry upon i