The office of Dr. Frank Leighton was called "Hub of Seven Corners." Four streets converged to form the circle, in the centre of which stood his office, like the hub of a wheel. The drugstore on one corner ended the square like the apex of a triangle. Each of the other three blocks was in the form of a trapezoid, whose lesser base faced the circle.
Although a physician, Dr. Leighton did not practice medicine as the ordinary acceptation of the term implies. He was a spcialist -- a specialist of symptoms.
Five friends graduated from an eastern medical college eight years previous to the events which we are transcribing. One evening near the close of their medical course, the friends met to engage in a farewell supper. As each talked of his intentions and hopes, one of them was inclined to take a discouraging view of the whole subject. He expatiated upon the barren results which usually attended the administration of medicine to the cure of diseases. He made singular proposal, and thereon hangs a tale. He said that as medicine had been almost vivisected by the introduction of specialties, why not end the agony and make one that would cover all of them? He proposed to divide the followers of Aesculapius into two general divisions; the first to devote their entire time to the diagnosis of diseases, the second to their treatment. The work of the first class to end, when the condition of the patient was ascertained; the second class to cure the derangement, if it be not beyond the reach of science.
The five doctors being men of means, decided to go to Europe and take a post-graduate course. They subsequently put this decision into practice by spending three years abroad; two of them bending their energies to the causes and symptoms of diseases; the other three to the cure of ailments. It was part of the plan to give to difficult surgical operations the united wisdom of the five. When these doctors returned to their native land, Mt. Clare was chosen as the best site to begin the new departure. The size of the place had much to do with the selection. The city was divided into three districts, with an office of a specialist of cures in each. The Hub of Seven Corners was the location of the office of the specialists of symptoms. The system, which at first would seem unwieldy and expensive, was offset by the superior skill of the practitioners. At the time of our story the specialists of symptoms, had gained an enviable reputation by their unerring correctness in diagnosis; nor was their success more pronounced than their brother specialists, who had reaped a rich harvest from the increase of patients their skill had secured. The resident physicians had at first ridiculed the scheme as the invention of quacks, but failing in their attempt to laugh the specialists out of the city, had finally combined in a similar arrangement. Dr. Frank Leighton was the mouthpiece and inspiration of the new fraternity. A handsome, well born Southern gentleman, he gained and held an enviable reputation. It has been previously mentioned that he was a nephew of Mrs. Underwood and, Regenia excepted, the only direct heir to her property. This fact had due weight in the choice of Mt. Clare as the place best suited to introduce his much cherished innovation in the field of medical reform. Having determined to cultivate the good graces of his aunt, his suavity had early installed him as a prime favorite in her affections. Hardly a day passed that he did not find time to drive out to the "Elms." His movements had long since ceased to be a matter of concern to the family, so thoroughly did he ingratiate himself. Mrs. Underwood sought his advice in nearly every change she made in the management of her affairs.
Regenia liked him, also. He was frank and jovial with her in that degree men of experience find it so easy to be with girls of her years. As he sat in his office on the morning after the boat ride, dr. Leighton was in any other than an amiable mood. He had a well-bred man's feelings after a night's reflection upon the fact that he has behaved badly. He wondered if Regenia had observed what must have been so manifest to her new found friends.
"Her friends," he repeated with a haughty smile. "What right have these impertinent, ill-born dogs to be her friends?" he asked himself. Then it occurred to him, if their friendship had been as cold, as his actions had been contemptible, where would have been the sweet girl to-day, who white and fearful yesterday, stood in such imminent danger? The very thought increased his hatred of Lotus Stone. In his heart he knew Lotus had performed an act of bravery for Regenia at the risk of his own life, which alone saved the girl from a premature death; but what right had he to meddle anyway? What right had this spawn of an outcast race to cross the path and thwart the purposes of his betters? Inwardly cursing himself for his own meanness, but despising Lotus for virtues the doctor did not possess, he arose, and taking his hat from the rack, entered the phaeton standing at the door and drove slowly out to the "Elms."
His distemper was not to be improved by a visit to his aunt. Before he reached his destination, he heard with rankling detestation the merry laughter which the witty sallies of Clement St. John were provoking, as, with the young girls and Lotus Stone, he lounged lazily beneath the inviting shade. The tender mouth of his horse felt the hate which the doctor could not otherwise express, as with a sudden jerk he stopped the faithful animal in front of Mrs. Underwood's gate.
He greeted the party under the trees with a slight inclination of the head and angrily stalked into the house. He went directly to the library, where Mrs. Underwood usually passed the morning hours. After greeting her, he said, in his light and airy way: "I see our friends still remain. They must enjoy the unaccustomed hospitality of their lately found acquaintances."
"I suppose so," answered Mrs. Underwood, with a smile.
"I presume the surroundings are a trifle more luxurious than they habitually find. One ought to forgive them for making the most of their opportunities," he said a little bitterly, as he glanced out of the window where our friends, all unconscious of the hatred their free and easy ways were kindling in the bosom of the master of the "Hub," passed the hours in innocent conversation.
"Regenia is happy," said Mrs. Underwood. "It is her first real contact with the world she must some day know."
Dr. Leighton inwardly winced, but wisely held his tongue.
"As I see how she delights in the company of her race, I feel a thrill of satisfaction that I kept nothing hid from her. She knows who she is and seems to gravitate toward the inevitable with the instinct of destiny."
"I should be sorry to think, dear aunt, that the destiny of Regenia pointed in the direction you indicate," he answered with a toss of his head toward the lawn.
"And why not?" she asked, somewhat piqued by the doctor's reply.
"What do any of us know of these men? Would you have been as free to allow your own -- " he checked himself -- "your own dear friends to drift into an intimate acquaintance with people utter strangers to you until the last few days? Are you less solicitous for Regenia's future than you would be for any other young woman, similarly situated?"
"Do not go too far, doctor," said Mrs. Underwood, noticeably aroused by his insinuations. "I fear you forget yourself. Regenia and Lucile have been friends from infancy. Lucile introduced her friend Mr. St. John, and he, in turn, introduced his friend, Mr. Stone. I do not think it necessary in this case to demand a certificate of character."
"Very true; but I enjoy a more extensive acquaintance with that class of people than you do. I have lived among them all my life. I know that only about one every ten thousand is trustworthy. You must excuse my solicitude for the child," he said, assuming an injured look.
"Oh, well, we differ upon that subject, and as you are settled in your opinion, discussion would be worse than useless. You estimate people by your prejudice. I do not: I have no fears for Regenia's immediate safety. I think her fully capable of taking care of herself."
"And her mother was not," said the doctor, excitedly.
"Wrong with her mother is right with her," said Mrs. Underwood, rising with an evident effort to maintain her self-control. As she excused herself and left the room, the doctor had no doubt that he had indeed gone too far. Not a little chagrined at Mrs. Underwood's failure to accept his advice, he could not resist the inclination to stop awhile under the shade of the elms and make one of the company pleasantly conversing there. He surmised that his presence would be no particular pleasure to Clement and Lotus, but that fact only served to whet his curiosity. His hatred was a sufficient incentive to nerve his resolution.
"I need hardly ask if you are finding sufficient amusement to drive dull care away," said Dr. Leighton, accepting a camp-stool offered him by Regenia, and resting his hat on the grass, as he sat down in the midst of the merrimakers.
"Mr. St. John has been delighting us with some of his droll experiences," said Regenia, laughing heartily as she recalled the story just related by Mr. St. John.
"I am sorry that I am too late to laugh with you," said the doctor.
"Tell Dr. Leighton about the bootblack who found your report of a wedding, Mr. St. John," said Regenia.
"I have too much respect for the doctor's age and experience to repeat a stale story for his amusement; I can not bear to tell a story unless I am certain it will amuse. I do not doubt the doctor's sense of the ridiculous, but my ability to reach it," said Clement dryly.
"Repeat the story and I promise to laugh whether it be droll or dry," said the doctor.
"That would be insincerity. I would not tempt you to act a part," Clement replied.
"The world is a stage and all of us are actors. You have been cast for light comedy to-day. Act well your part, there all the honor lies," replied the doctor.
"Comedy and tragedy, daily rehearsed, make the annals of all our lives. To-day it is comedy; yesterday, almost tragedy. I am happy to-day whenever I compare it with yesterday. Was not that the most marvelous escape, doctor?" Clement asked.
"Very, indeed," the doctor answered, rising. "I fear you are not going to tell me the story. It must have been rich, or at least Miss Underwood seemed to think so." As he said this he turned on his heel and hastened to his phaeton. As he drove away, registered a vow in his heart that those impertinent "cusses" should never spend another day at the "Elms." The place, some day, will have a different master, and then, none of that class, emphasizing "that" with a contemptuous sneer, shall ever stretch their legs under those trees.
Clement St. John smiled triumphantly as the last glimpse of Dr. Leighton disappeared from view. Regenia wondered why the doctor had addressed her as Miss Underwood.
Lotus was the first to break the silence. "Doctor Leighton is a relation of Mrs. Underwood's, I believe?" said Lotus.
"Her nephew," answered Regenia.
"Is he always so consequential?" Clement enquired.
"Why did you not tell him the story?" Regenia asked, ignoring his question.
"I reserve my stories for those who wish to hear them. I never pretend what I do not feel. Dr. Leighton had no desire to hear anything I had to say. He is your friend, perhaps, but worship of you would never make me even respect him."
"Dr. Leighton was politeness itself this morning, I am sure," interrupted Lucile.
"Say patronizing. I fits the condition better when you speak of Dr. Leighton. Dr. Leighton's politeness is from above downward, as the lord is to his footman, but never as an equal is to an equal. It is hard to be other than one's self and retain one's respect for himself," said Clement, apologetically.
"Time flies," said Lotus. "we leave on the evening boat and have ever so much to attend to before we shall be ready to start. I must therefore beseech Mr. St. John to cut short his homily and hope at some time more opportune, he may have leisure to finish it," said Lotus pleasantly.
"You have hours and hours before the night steamer leaves for Minton, but I suppose you have other places to call," said Regenia.
To this implied question Lotus made no reply.
He held out his hand, first to Lucile, with the remark, "For the present I must say good-bye."
"Say your farewells to Mrs. Underwood and Mrs. Levitt," said Lucile. "We expect to be at the boat. We want to see the last of everybody," she added with a merry laugh.
"Good-byes twice said are harbingers of happy meetings in the near future," said Lotus.
"It is to be hoped in this case," said Lucile, with a mischievous look at Regenia.
"And I say amen from the depth of my heart," chimed in Clement.
After they had bade the other members of the family adieu, the young men took their leave, the girls accompanying them to the gate. As Lotus held in his own the pretty hand of Regenia, he could not help wishing that some day, under circumstances more binding, he might claim it as his own.