the outer hall she met Bell on his way to visit the sick man. He noticed her troubled mien and asked if George were not so well today.
“Yes, David,” she replied, a quiver in her voice, “the wound is healing nicely, but he is so morose. He has a notion—oh how can I tell it—a sort of feeling that some of his mental poise and confidence have gone with his lost limb. You will soon be a graduate physician, won’t you assure him that his fears are groundless?”
“I don’t know but that his case is one for the minister or psychologist rather than the medical man,” answered Bell. “His physical wound is healing, but it seems his mental wound is not. However, I will do my best, not only for your sake, Rosalind, but because I am interested in the happiness of my old college chum.”
Rosalind smiled her gratitude and turned abruptly away to hide the tears that she had held back as long as possible.
Five months passed, and with the aid of a crutch George made excellent headway in overcoming the difficulties of locomotion. If David and Rosalind noticed a subtle change in the disposition and character of their mutual friend, they made no further reference to it.
II. A Transformation
At length came a day when in the company of both of these faithful friends George Gregory announced his intention of using an artificial limb instead of a crutch. His sweetheart voiced immediate remonstrance.
“No, George, I’d rather see you walking with the visible aid of a crutch than to think of your using an artificial leg. Somehow it seems like hypocrisy, a kind of appearing to be what you aren’t. I know my idea is poorly expressed, but that’s the way I feel about it.”
A peculiar light came into Gregory’s eyes, a light that neither friend had ever seen there before. He straightened visibly, almost without the aid of his crutch.
“I’ll walk yet as well as any one and maybe it will give me back my mental confidence. My mind shall triumph over my body as well as it ever did!”
The artificial leg was duly applied to the hip stump, and it really was amazing to observe the rapidity with which Gregory mastered the art of using it proficiently. Anyone unacquainted with his deformity would never have realized that he did not possess two normal legs.
And then came the automobile accident a week before the time set for the Nelson-Gregory nuptials. How George Gregory’s car was struck by an oncoming truck, reduced to a junk-heap, and George thrown into a ditch, so that the arm finally required amputation, never will be known, for George had always been a careful driver. Even with his artificial leg he declared he had no difficulty in putting on the brake. The fall had, as was proved later, caused also internal injuries so that some of the bodily organs did not function properly.
The months that followed were to all who were closely concerned with the accident, like a descent into Hades. Dr. Bell, serving as an intern in the Good Samaritan Hospital, devoted himself untiringly to the tragic case of George Gregory. A world famous specialist was summoned in consultation concerning the internal injuries sustained by Gregory. Very little hope was held out for the life of the unfortunate man, although there was one chance: an artificial kidney. The vigorous constitution of the invalid came to his rescue. He not only survived the operation but seemed to be in the best of health afterward.
And it is not to be wondered that Rosalind began to doubt whether her love for George Gregory could remain the same as before. Thrown constantly as she was in the company of Dr. David Bell, observing his devoted care and interest in George, she began to compare, or rather to contrast, the two men. George’s rapid deterioration was no longer a possible flight of the imagination. It was an actuality. It was no longer possible to overlook the meaning behind his words.
“God expresses Himself through the physical world,” he said when the three were together at George’s apartment on Kenneth Drive. “He is a Spirit, but He makes Himself manifest in the perfection of a physical world. As much of physical perfection as I have lost, that much of God or Goodness has left me and there are no two ways about it.”
Remonstrance was useless, so convinced was the invalid that his theories were correct. Also in his mind there grew steadily an ever increasing dislike for the friend of his college days, the doctor. He could no longer be blind to the fact that it was a struggle for Rosalind to be loyal to him. He was also aware of the growing affection that existed between David and Rosalind. From a dislike his feelings gradually changed to those of implacable hatred for his former chum.
III. The Parting
At length after weary days and nights of indecision Rosalind came to the conclusion that she could not marry George Gregory. She longed to tell David of her feelings, but could not because she was conscious of her love for the young doctor. The subject of marriage had not been mentioned by either George or Rosalind since the second accident, but instinctively the girl felt that her lover’s previous offer at the time of his lost leg, to release her from their engagement, was not to be renewed; though he must have known that his qualifications as a husband were now fewer than they could possibly have been before.
The moment that Rosalind had dreaded came at last. They were strolling together one evening toward the outskirts of the town. The moon softened, with its silvery glow, objects that in the glare of noon stood out in too bold relief. As they left the highway for the river-path George said:
“Let us set a day for the wedding. I’ve waited long enough.” As he spoke he put around her waist an arm, not one with which nature had equipped him, but one so cunningly wrought that a casual observer would never have known. But Rosalind knew! She shuddered, and in that act, George Gregory knew that his doom was sealed.
“I can’t marry you, George,” she pleaded in a hoarse, unnatural voice. “I am sorry that it is so, but I cannot do it.”
The man laughed and the tones chilled the heart of the girl. “You said once that my identity remained, no matter what the physical imperfections of my body. Now you deny it!” His voice rose in his excitement.
“Listen, oh George,” she cried now thoroughly panic-stricken. “You are yourself allowing your mental attitude toward life to be altered. You have admitted it. Had you remained unchanged mentally, I truly believe your physical difference would not have mattered. I loved you for what you were, but, George, you are so changed!”
“Yes, I am changed,” he shrieked, “but my desires and passions are no different, unless intensification indicates a difference.”
He reached toward her, but adept as he was in the use of his two artificial limbs, she eluded his grasp and was off with a bound up the rough river-path and toward the highway. She heard distinctly the sound of pursuit. Could he outrun her handicapped as he was?
Once he fell, and the sound of muttered oaths came to her ears. On and on she flew, not daring to look back though she suspected that he was gaining. Just within the border of the town where the houses were somewhat scattered he caught her and simultaneously she fainted away.
When consciousness returned a dear familiar face was bent near her own. With a sob of joy she put her arms about David’s neck, and in a few endearing words they plighted their troth.
David, on his way back from a professional call, where he was substituting for old Dr. Amos, who was ill, had witnessed from a distance the two running figures. Before he arrived upon the spot with his car, the pursuing form had overtaken the other.
To rescue a maiden from the arms of her lover seemed a very peculiar service to render—but one look into the eyes of George Gregory proved to the doctor beyond the question of a doubt that he was not dealing with a sane man. The contest was an unequal one, though the agility displayed by the cripple would have done credit to a normal man of more than average prowess. David tried to reason with his antagonist, but the use of logic at that time was unavailing. It was a hard struggle, but George was finally willing to admit himself defeated.
IV. A Man Obsessed
About three months following this incident Dr. Bell (now in possession of the office of the late Dr. Amos) was about to lock up after the