Rising in the World CHAPTER 13.
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As instructor 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 of England and America. 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 entrusted 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 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 rise 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.
More 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 was altogether at home here would be an error, as he felt, for a time, a degree of restraint which took away the pleasure of social interaction. 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 recognize 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 fellowship. 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 ofinnocent 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 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."
This 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 anyone. 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 around 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 doesn'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 fully 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 in 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 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 tunes that she had often played for him, and sang favorite songs that she had sang 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.
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