The White Rose of MemphisFalkner, William C. (Clark)
General
The White Rose of Memphis
Falkner, William C. (Clark)
Memphis (Tenn.) -- Fiction
“‘Ah, yes, no doubt you feel very weak; quite natural you should, after
such an attack of brain fever. I thought you were going to make a die of
it, in spite of my humble efforts to save you; but thanks to a vigorous
constitution, which you very fortunately possessed, I have been able to
pull you through. You will be all right again in a few days. I have
ordered you some beef tea, which you must use freely, and by to-morrow I
dare say you will be able to take more solid food. Let me look at your
tongue. Ah, that’s all right. You won’t leave us yet a while.’
“‘Doctor,’ said I, ‘will you be so kind as to inform me if you know why
I am imprisoned in this horrible dungeon?’
“‘Come, come, my dear fellow! you had better not talk about that
unpleasant affair until you get more strength. By no means let your mind
run on that subject. By the by, Debar, what lady is this you have been
raving about all the time? Lottie! Lottie! Yes, I think that was the
name. If you called her name once, you called it fifty thousand times
within the last three weeks. The fact is, you talked as if she were
present with you all the time.’
“‘She is a charming girl who resides in Memphis, Tennessee, and my
betrothed bride.’
“‘Ha! ha! I say, your betrothed bride; but come, come, Debar, you had
better keep quiet, I reckon; for I see your mind is not exactly right
yet.’
“‘Why do you call me Debar? That is not my name. I am a physician by
profession. My name is Edward Demar, and I never saw this jail until the
night I came here three weeks ago.’
“‘Pshaw! Debar; I had been hoping that your mind was entirely restored,
but I am sorry to find myself disappointed in that hope. Is this the
picture of the young lady you call Lottie?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘She must be exceedingly beautiful indeed. That is the sweetest face I
ever saw. You have been holding that picture in your hand, and kissing
it frequently, while your reason was partially, if not totally,
dethroned.’
“‘Oh, sir, if you knew how I worship that dear girl, you would not be
surprised at my devotion to her picture!’
“‘I don’t think your wife would like to hear you talk that way.’
“‘What in Heaven’s name do you mean? I have no wife--nor ever did.’
“‘Look here, Debar, you are either out of your senses, or shamming; for
I know a lady who loves you devotedly, and she is your wife, too, and a
very true, worthy one at that--a thousand times too good for such a
scapegrace as you.’
“‘I tell you my name is not Debar; and I swear I have not been married.
I never loved but one woman in my life, and that is Lottie Wallingford,
of Memphis.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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