ence. Mr. Allen went occasionally to see his son, but he was a cold, proud man, whose chief ambition was that Fred should make a fine appearance in society, as a worthy heir to the fortune that he would one day leave him.
But the reports of the specialist were not encouraging. The chorea was a little better, but something seemed wrong about the boy’s sight. A well-known oculist was called, and he ordered word at once sent to Mr. Allen that the trouble had all centred in the optic nerve, which was rapidly being destroyed, and that his only son must be blind forever, with no hope of any cure.
It was a terrible blow to the father, whose hopes and plans for the future were all destroyed. His feeling for his son had been pride, rather than love, and this pride was sorely wounded. A sudden press of business had kept him for some days from going to his boy, and by the time he reached him, the disease had made such rapid advances that Fred could no longer see his father, except as a dark shadow against the sun-lighted window. In other respects he was much better, and so anxious to be
