Page:Maud Howe - Atlanta in the South.djvu/273



leaving the Hôtel-Dieu, Philip Rondelet repaired to the club where it was his habit to dine. He took his accustomed seat, and mechanically perused the evening paper which the servant placed beside his plate. It is presumable that he ate his dinner; it is certain that the usual number of courses were placed before him, and the same quantity of wine. If the waiter had been called upon to testify as to Mr. Rondelet's condition that evening, it is probable that he would have remarked that the gentleman seemed "absent-like," and took little note of what he ate; that he chose his cigar without noticing the brand, and omitted to light it as he walked out of the club. If Philip had been ordered to give an account of himself between the time of his leaving the hospital and the hour when he found himself in his room staring at his own face in the mirror, he would have found it an impossible task. A perfect blank had settled upon him,—a numbness of heart and brain merciful, but, alas! only too brief.