Dispersing Clouds

Two months had slipped away, and still Charles Williams remained a
patient in the Westlake Hospital at Sydney. At length, after a
consultation of the doctors, it was proposed that he should be
consigned to the workhouse infirmary.

"We can't keep him here forever," said Dr. Emerton; "and as all the
beds will be wanted with this outbreak of diphtheria, I see nothing
else to be done."

"Well," said Dr. Belton, "I am deeply interested in his case, and if
you agree, I will take him under my own particular charge. You know I
have a few rooms set apart for such cases in my house at Brookmere. I
will take him there, and see what I can do for him."

"Very kind of you, I am sure," said Dr. Emerton. "You can afford that
sort of thing--I can't. I should have sent him to the infirmary, where
he would be under Dr. Hutchinson's care; but, of course, he will be
better off in your private hospital."

And one day in the following week, Dr. Belton took home with him the
invalid, whose case he had already described to his wife and children,
so that when the stooping figure emerged from the carriage leaning
heavily on the arm of the nurse who accompanied him, he was received
with kindness and warmth, Mrs. Belton herself meeting him with
outstretched hands of welcome.

"Very glad to see you, Mr. Williams. You will soon get better here, I
think."

Cardo looked at her with no intelligence in his eyes. "Yes, thank
you," was all he said, as he passed with his nurse into the bright,
cosy room relegated to the use of the patients, who were so fortunate,
or so unfortunate as to arouse more than usual interest in Dr. Belton's
mind.