Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 77: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

68 “LOOKS LIKE FATE.” But he received no reply as the doctor was busy feeling the sick man’s pulse, and Eldridge was occupied with his thoughts. The faint sound of a piano fell upon their ears as they entered the hall of Mr. Clayton’s fine residence, supporting the burden as best they could between them. The solemn- faced butler who admitted them actually manifested signs of something resembling emotion, as he saw the serious condition of his master. ‘‘We must lay him upon a lounge, down stairs, until his bed is made ready,’’ announced the doctor, authoritative- ly, turning the knob of the door nearest to him. ‘“That’s the music-room, and Miss Gertrude is practic- ing,’’ remonstrated the butler, apprehensively. ‘‘Pray, sir, come in here,’’ But he spoke too late. Already the doctor had thrown the door wide open, and motioned them to follow him. As they entered the music stopped abruptly and a figure arose from the piano. It was that of a young girl, whose lips parted and whose eyes took on an expression of terror, as she advanced - toward them. ‘‘Papa!’’ she cried, in alarm, and then steod still as though rooted to the spot. ‘‘Calm yourself I beg, my dear Miss Clayton,’’ uttered the doctor, in a professional tone, ‘‘your father has been taken suddenly ill, but I see no reason for serious alarm at present. Good nursing and care will bring him around all right, I trust, but above all things he must have quiet— absolute quiet. So you understand for his sake, you must exercise great control over yourself. I have-crazied ia ket