AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.
As demonstrator of anatomy, Dr. Hudson soon stood high in the school of
medicine in which he had been chosen to occupy that position. All who
came in contact with him were as much struck with his extreme modesty,
as with his wide intelligence on all subjects nearly or remotely
connected with his profession. As an anatomist, he was seen to be
greatly in advance of his predecessor, and to his demonstrations the
class even paid a closer attention than they did to the lectures of the
professor himself.
To surgery Hudson gave a large share of his attention. Before he had
been six months in the school, he performed one of the most difficult
operations known in medical annals. A report of this was made by a
professional man who was present to one of the newspapers, from whence
it was copied into the several medical journals in this country and
England. The notoriety which this case gave to Dr. Hudson, brought him
immediately before the public, and established his reputation as a
surgeon. From that time his practice began to assume some importance;
and although very young for a surgeon, he had a number of very
important cases intrusted to his care.
The temptation to use the knife Hudson found, as all young surgeons do,
very strong. But he set it down as a rule, never to use the knife where
there were hopes of a cure without it.
"The surgeon's skill," he would say, "does not lie so much in the use
of the knife as in his ability to cure without its use. The knife is
only a last resort."
The number of cures that he made of cases upon which he was called to
operate, without the "last resort," endeared him to many who had shrunk
with terrible fear from the knife. They were, ever after, his fast
friends, and spoke of him on all proper occasions in the warmest manner.
A rapid increase of practice was the natural consequence of this. His
youth and modest demeanor prejudiced many against him as a physician;
but none who once employed him, wished to give him up; for they felt,
after seeing him a few times in the sick chamber, that he not only
understood what he was about, but was governed by highly conscientious
principles in the discharge of his professional duties. There was
a sphere of goodness as well as intelligence about him distinctly
perceived by all who came in contact with him.
From that time he began steadily to the externally, as he had been
rising internally since the period when, in freedom and reason, he took
charge of himself as a man.
The heartless abandonment of Mary Lee by Dunbar, involving a shameless
violation of the marriage contract, was a fact well-known to Doctor
Hudson, and was in his mind when, on his last meeting with the rising
attorney, he intimated his wish that their friendship should cease.
Notwithstanding he found the heart of Mary in the keeping of another
when he applied for her hand, Hudson could never cease to feel towards
her as he felt to no others. All hope of her ever becoming his wife had
been abandoned; but still her image remained, and in dreams she came to
him with her loving voice and gentle smile.
Moro than a year passed after the abandonment of Mary by her false
lover, and in that time Hudson had not once met her, as she went into
company very rarely. He heard her sometimes spoken of as much changed.
The rising reputation of Doctor Hudson extended his circle of friends,
and gained for him introductions into a grade of society rather above
what he had been used to. To say that he felt altogether at home here
would be an error, for he met with many things new to him, and felt,
for a time, a degree of restraint that took away the pleasure of social
intercourse. In the society of ladies, especially young ladies, Dunbar
had been free almost to rudeness; Hudson was chargeable rather with
the opposite extreme. Wherever he went, however, he made the most
favorable impression, for it was only necessary to be in conversation
with him for a short time to recognise a mind of superior order
tempered and subdued by the nicest sense of honor—honor in its truest
acceptation—and humble views of himself.
We do not mean that the refinements and elegancies of life that he met
with in this higher grade were repugnant to him. But they were what he
had not been used to; and therefore, he felt, for a time, an unpleasant
restraint, and a fear lest he should ignorantly violate some mode or
form deemed essential to polite intercourse. It did not take him very
long, however, to feel at ease, for he was a gentleman from principle,
and soon understood that there was little danger of his going wrong.
Many bright eyes looked upon the young physician, and many sweet lips
wreathed in smiles for him. But no eyes appeared so bright as those of
Mary Lee—no face so full of innocent loveliness as the remembered face
of the sweet maiden who had captivated his young affections.
As time went on, and success, at first so far in the distance, and
seeming as if it would never approach, was no longer a matter of doubt,
Doctor Hudson, instead of withdrawing himself from his family, was more
drawn into it.
His oldest sister was married to a very estimable man, a clerk
in Market-street, and his youngest sister still continued giving
instruction in music. He made it a point to go with Ella into company,
whenever it was practicable to do so, and to attend her to places of
public amusement.
One night a concert was given at the Musical Fund Hall, by a celebrated
violinist, and Hudson mentioned to a young physician during the day his
great desire to hear the performance.
"Suppose we get tickets and go," was replied.
"That is what I have thought of doing," returned Hudson.
"I propose that we invite the Misses Harling to go with us. They are
charming girls, and extravagantly fond of music. I can take Kate, and
you Flora. It's just the opportunity for improving our acquaintance,
and making it more familiar. You know their attractions are of a most
substantial kind."
"I intend going with my sister," replied Hudson. "She is quite as fond
of music as they are, and will enjoy this concert exceedingly."
"Your sister! Indeed!" The young man thought a moment, and then said—
"I believe you are right, doctor; and I will profit by so good an
example, and take my sister. The fact is, we young men are too
indifferent about our sisters. I stand reproved, and thank you for the
reproof."
"It gives me pleasure to hear you speak so, doctor," said Hudson,
warmly. "As you say, sisters are too much neglected by young men, who,
instead of making them their companions, seek companions anywhere else,
and leave them at home, or to go with young men of whose characters
very often they know nothing."
"It is too true, and I confess myself guilty of the fault. But I will
mend it from this time, and go to see the Misses Harling on some other
occasion."
The young physician rose much higher than he had stood before in the
estimation of Hudson. His name was Baldwin. He had a fair practice
for so young a man, and was generally well-esteemed. Hudson's love of
anatomy and surgery attracted Baldwin, and his good qualities made him
seek his friendship. While he admired his talents he highly esteemed
him as a man.
The tickets for the concert were bought, and Ella gladly accompanied
her brother, for whom she had the tenderest and most confiding
affection. They had not been seated long in the concert-room, before
Hudson noticed Doctor Baldwin enter unaccompanied by any one. He came
down the aisle, and seeing Hudson, near whom was a vacant seat, came
and sat down in the bench just before him, turning round and bowing as
he did so. His eyes rested on the face of Ella for a moment or two, and
were then withdrawn. In a little while he leaned over towards Hudson,
and said—
"I am not so fortunate as you. My sister happened to have an
engagement."
He then looked at Ella, and again at Hudson, as much as to say, "Why
don't you introduce me?"
But Hudson, although prepossessed in his favor, did not yet know
him well enough to be willing to make him acquainted with Ella, and
therefore gave him no introduction. Many times during the evening did
Doctor Baldwin turn round to speak to Hudson, and on such occasions he
made it a point to obtain a good look at Ella. When she made any remark
to her brother on the performance, his ear was bent towards her, and
strove to take in every word.
"She's a sweet girl," he said to himself. "I had no idea that Doctor
Hudson had a sister like that. No wonder he takes her to concerts.
Confound it! Why don't he introduce me? I'm sure I've asked him to do
so as plain as looks can ask."
Not long after the performance commenced, Hudson happened to turn his
eyes to the side of the room, when they rested upon a young, somewhat
pensive face, and a pair of dark blue eyes, fixed earnestly upon him.
The face was as familiar as that of his own sister yet not until he
had withdrawn his eyes from something fascinating in the gaze of this
person, did he remember who the lovely stranger was. No, we will not
say stranger either, for it would not do to call Mary Lee a stranger.
The eyes of Hudson again turned towards the maiden who had captivated
his young affections. She was still looking at him, but beneath his
earnest gaze her eyes drooped slowly, until their brightness was veiled
by her long dark lashes. She did not lift them again for some moments;
when she did so, Hudson withdrew his gaze, and forced himself to look
at the performer, although he scarcely distinguished a note of his
music for full five minutes at least. Then he could not refrain from
a glance at Mary. She, too, was looking at the performer, but in a
little while she turned her head, and their eyes again met. Hudson
noticed what he thought a slight flush upon the maiden's face; but he
was not sure. Many times during the evening their eyes met in the same
way, although Hudson tried to prevent it, and she evidently did the
same. But somehow or other they were not successful. How it was with
Mary the young physician did not know, but to him the concert was an
unintelligible jumble of musical sounds.
Doctor Hudson slept but little that night for thinking of Mary Lee.
He recalled the fact of his having applied for her hand, and tried
to remember her exact look, tone, and words, when she informed him
that her affections were pledged, with her hand, to another. Nothing
of personal dislike had been manifested, but rather kindness and
respect. As for his own feelings, they had never changed. On the next
evening, after having thought about little else during the day, Hudson
determined upon a visit to Mary, and if his reception were such as to
encourage him to do so, to renew the offer he had made her some two
years before.
Slight embarrassment was exhibited at the meeting on both sides. But
both soon recovered their self-possession, and entered into a pleasant
conversation. More than ever was Hudson charmed with the sweet girl. He
asked her to sing and play for him, and she played airs that she had
often played for him, and sung favorite songs that she had sung for him
in other but well-remembered days. All the warmth of the young man's
old passion returned. Before he left the maiden that night he had, a
second time, made the offer of his love, with a much more favorable
result.