Part 29 (2/2)
”Only a sprain,” said the doctor, answering his glance. ”I saw how it happened. Scant thanks, eh?”
The singer sat up and his eyes flashed.
[Sidenote: ”I want no Thanks!”]
”I wanted no thanks from her,” he muttered bitterly.
”How is that?” questioned the doctor. ”You knew the lady?”
”Yes, I knew her. The evil she has brought me can never be blotted out by rivers of thanks!”
The doctor's look questioned his sanity.
”I fail to understand,” he remarked simply.
”My name is Waldron, Philip Waldron,” went on the singer. ”You have a right to my name.”
”Not connected with Waldron the great financier?” again questioned the doctor.
”His son. There is no reason to hide the truth from you. You have been very kind--more than kind. I thank you.”
”But I understood Waldron had only one son, and he died some years ago--I attended him.”
”Waldron had two sons, Lucien and Philip. I am Philip.”
”But----”
”I can well understand your surprise. My father gave me scant thought--his soul was bound up in my elder brother.”
”But why this masquerade?”
”It is no masquerade,” returned the singer sadly. ”I sing to eke out my small salary as clerk in a city firm. My abilities in that way do not command a high figure,” he added, with a bitter laugh.
”Then your father----?”
”Sent me adrift because I refused to marry that woman whose carriage I stopped to-night.”
The doctor made an expression of surprise.
”Yes, it seems strange I should come across her in that fas.h.i.+on, doesn't it? The sight of her has touched old sores.”
Philip Waldron's eyes gleamed as he fixed them on the doctor's face.
”I will tell you something of my story--if you wish it.”
”Say on.”
”As a young man at home I was greatly under my father's influence.
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