New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1874-07-12

dunnot see how tina can help thysen agen
my bein' here" 80. -.
=. Nor l." said Phillis, and she looked
down at the creature with sudden, sharp
indrawing OF her breath, wild light leap
ing into her cold eyes for one instant. then
dying out. wilt thou let me pass!" she
said in curious, low voice. II do not wish
to harm thee"
Janet Ayres drew back quickly, and al
most uncOnsciously glanced over her shoul-
der at the great depth of steps below them.
Harm her! For that instant the pure, self
righteous woman had actually looked as if
her last words might have held desperate
double meaning. And it would have been
easy enough to harm her with that flight of
stairs below. A touch would nave done it
almost. And less deeply wronged women
had reyenged themselves in such ways be-
fore. But the light had died out Of Phillis
Denham's eyes, and she passed down the
staircase " ithout another word.
She was even unusually pale and silent
the next day. The woman who worked near
her noticed, indeed one of them remember
ed afterward. that she only spoke once dur
ing all the hours. of labor, and this once
was on hearing the name of Janet Ayres
from the lips of the woman at the loom
next TO her own.
9TH mesters ha no rect to TAX such loike
nowts," said the speaker, roughly. If il
were ma for til choild. poor little wench-
Phillis looked up with slight start.
Friend" said she, ''do / understand thee
to say the woman has child?"
Aye was the answer, ''as pretty a
little lass as any honester woman might
wish fur-th' Lord help it! Three year OVID
or thereabout. The parish owt to TAX it to
save it fro goin' its mothers gait"
But though the matter dropped for the
time being, this was not the end of it. Or
her way home that evening Phillis met with
little adventure. One Of the Injuries she
allowed herself was weekly bouquet OF
common flowers, and abe was passing down
a narrow street, with. handful Of roses
and sweet peas, just purchased, when q
small hand. thrust through fence, plucked
at her gown, and the sound of q chiId's
voice stopped her.
CONAN" ssid the sweet, shrill little pipe
"oon,an. gi' us pOsy."
She stopped and looked down. She did
not often notice children, but the voice oi
this one, and the soft touch of the small
feeling. Children did not often notice her
either; she was not the sort of woman to
attract child. The tiny hand plucked at
her dress again.
':Gi' us posy! Gil us posy!'
Bot for moment or SO Philis did not an.
ever, though it was not the prettiness OF
the dirty, dimrled face she was looking at
go tixedly. 1t was something else that held
her understanding in the summer blue
eyes that strnck her with hard pang.
When she could speak she separated a
rose from her flowers and bent down, but
the hand with which she offered the bios.
som trembled. and her voice was strangely
unsteady.
"What ia thy name!r she asked.
The child fell back little. regarding her
almost distrustfully -the handsome face
was so hard to read.
will thee not tell me thy name9" Phillis
repeated. ''See, here is rose for thee"
The dimpled hand crept out for the flow
ers, and then the pretty b0ldness came
back.
"Jenny," said the child, CONAN did ia
gi Jenny posyW
Phillis stood up.
'Yes," she said, in tene curious enough
to use in speaking to child; II gave thee
posy."
That was all. She did not stop to carsss
the little creature. She passed on, with
the rest of her flowers in her cold hand,
and left it peering through the fence at
her. This was the child-the child, and it's
blue eyes had stabbed again the one rank
ling wound of her life. The little house
had never seemed so quiet as it did when
she unlocked the door and entered it; the
stiffness was like the stiffness of death. But
Phillis did not feel it. She laid her flowers
upon the table, went to the fire, stirred the
Goals and sat down. The fame shot up,
and, lighting up the room, glowed upon her
face, but had not glow enough to flush its
pallor.
st is the child" she said ".Her child
has lived, while mine
her lips closed, as if in stern resolve. 1t
was part of her creed to force herself to
silence. If she had suffered she had not
rebelled by word or deed-she had not re-
belled, even if, in her severe struggle to be
calm, she had learned to be cold and hard
as she was pure and just.
AS she sat before the fire in silence she
was battling with herself. 1t was hard to
child had lived, perhaps, to face her
wretched mothers wretched fall, and, per-
haps, to fall and Elm, and haunt and die,
will, scarcely breathing spell OF innocent
childhood to remember in her misery. Her
own little one, who had seemed the only
breath of pure air left in the world about
her, had been torn from her in the hour of
her greatest anguish. 1t was hard to under
stand. And then her thoughts went back
to the face of the child she had seen; such
a pretty creature, with its innocent bold
ness and the summer blue eyes, which had
SO stung her. A sudden thought flashing
upon her made her start before she had
been thinking of it two minutes. The blood
to her cheeks.
"Nay, nayw she cried out, as if uncon-
trollably. mot that; could not do that.
Its eyes would mock me every hour"
But she had no sooner spoke SO than she
turned pale again, knowing that it was
this thing she must do, and no other. To
such a woman there could be only right and
wrong; and here, in an instant, the right
flashed upon her, and left her nc escape.
The small, bold hand plucked at her again;
have plucked at her heart forever, if it had
not been for this sudden conviction. She
had never done willing wrong in her life,
and she had never shirked the right. 1t
was the thing che must do and no other.
She did not stay to ponder long. She
rose from her seat and went about her
household tasks. She prepared her usual
simple evening meal, and, having partook
OF it, set the room in order. 1t was her way
have made her otherwise. 1t was quite
dark when she had completed her prepare.
tons for the morrow, but she evidently in
tended intended going ont, for she went,
into the adjoining room and came out again
with shawl thrown over her head and
shoulders.
Then she opened the door, and looked out
into the night.
''She may refuse me-" she said, in low.
voice; "but must still make an
effort. can not understand why it is, and
yet truly it seems borne upon my mind.
that if should not do this thing, this soul
would be required Of me-" .
And then she went out, closing the door
after her. She had not far to go-only
few rods into another street-only to the
cottage where she had seen the child this
Ayres' child.
There was light burning in the room at
the front of the house when she reached it,
ard % cha onfarnd tho fro 70 81 :. o.. -