he had ejaculated: "Oh, what is it?
Is she----?" and there the words were lost.

It was somewhere near the early morning when Egbert Mason who had been
foremost in fighting the fire, was aroused by a voice just outside his
window, which was left open for the faint breeze of the summer night.

"Come quick iz you kin, young marster, fur de lub o'heb'n."

Between sleeping and waking the young man jumped up and peered out of
the window. He could just discern the prim red and yellow turban of the
black keeper of the strange ladies.

"Iz you a doctor, Marster? Dey says you iz."

"Yes--a very young one--what is wanted?"

The negress spoke a few very hurried words in a lower tone.

"All right. In one moment--stay--never mind--I have it--I'm coming." And
catching up something from the shelf of his closet the young doctor sped
away to the mysterious door of the southern guests.

He was met on the threshold by an anxious, grief-stricken face, and the
words half sobbed out:

"Was there no one else? None older? You--why, you are a boy."

"True, madam, but I am not without experience. I hope--I think, you may
trust me, unless----"

But she drew him hurriedly within the door, and on to an inner chamber,
where lay his patient, so guarded that he never once saw her face.
Before the earliest risers were called to the long breakfast hall there
echoed the cry of a little child in the southern cottages--a girl baby
that opened its eyes first in an atmosphere of secrecy and mystery.

* * * * *

Sixteen years had gone by. It was the eighth of January, and the Capitol
Hotel at Frankfort was a blaze of military glory. It was the annual
commemorative ball, and Strauss' band was pouring forth inspiring
strains, as the dancers, in fancy costumes of every age and clime,
flitted to and fro. The beauty, wealth and chivalry of Kentucky were
there. The stars and stripes were draped about the speaking portraits
of dead heroes, and munitions of war glittered on every side.

Among those wearing the neat broadcloth evening dress of the plain
American citizen was Dr. Egbert Mason, the famous surgeon, now a
distinguished looking man of thirty-five. It was rather late in the
evening when he appeared, and he was soon captured by his friend,
the Hon. Leslie Walcott, who bore the distinction of being the youngest
member of the House, and presented to Miss Eleanor Carleton, the most
popular of all the belles and beau