Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-10-28

ing her.
Don't feel so badly, Shirley,n she
whispered. moving her head on nv
shoulder. 81 know | am a burden to
you, darling; but II can't wish it un-
done; we are so happy still-we've got
each other and baby and such long life
yet for all these little troubles to mass
away in! And it can't last long; you'll
get something better than what YOU lost.
Perhaps it will be the very best thing for
US, after all, that you should lose this
place and be forced to make a change"
Perhaps. It's all a chance" said
bitterly, g and l must sit with my hands
tied, and you-Edna, they were right! ]
was a selfish brute to draw you down to
this"
She clasped her arms around my neck
and kissed me and stopped my mouth,
and we were silent for awhile and the
room grew dark in the twilight
Shirley" she said softly, at last,
would you let my father help you?"
What do you mean?"
Mamma asked me a month ago if you
would leave New Orleans and take posi-
ton N my uncle's house in New York. [
never told you, because-she wanted me
to come home then, Shirley, ana let you
| 60 alone, and couldn't"
Go hOmeG' gathered her closer-the
baby in her arms, too. "Child, has it
come to that?'
No." she whispered softly "Itnever
will. pll go with you there, or anywhere
else on earth, Shirley''
9 Is it too la tie to take the offer now?''
asked, starting up. "Why do you ask if
I'll let him help me, Edna? Better that
than taking his aims, God knows, and I've
done that so long. What is this place?
Child, I'd almost beg at the street corners
for you if that was ALP
"Will you go and see papa?' she
cried, lighting up all over her wasted lit
tie face. q don't know about it, only
that mamma said there might be an
opening for you, and it would be much
better than your old place, and papa
would use his influence for you. VIII
you go, Shirley?'
YES, l willn' 1 said, stopping down
to kiss her.
Something was dragging me back all
the while holding me fast to the bedside,
within touch Of her little, hot hand and
hearing of my baby's sleepy-soft breath =
but didn't heed it. | was desperate, and
her eyes drove me out into the world to
ctr1 10 IC
/ went.
So the end of it was that letters went
back and forth, and in two weeks from
the day that | was discharged from my
clerkship was engaged by the New York
house Of which Mr.. Verdery's brother
was head, at a salary that would keep
Edna safe all the winter far enough out OF
! the reach of want or the need of aims.
| Only-it was desperate mans resources,
you knOw-she must be in New Orleans
while I was in New York
A winter at the North, they said, would
kill her, and | must not dream of taking
her away until she was thoroughly we'll
again.
This was the way it happened. They
were SO glad to take her back; they had
" forgiven" her so entirely and wanted her
so, and they were SO fond of little
Shirley ought to have been willing and
glad to leave them both in such tender
care. | was neither, but [ knew it was
my duty to give her up and | did it,
kissed her good-by at the last and dragged
myself away from her arms, that tried to
hold me back even then, and the last
glimpse had of wife or child was little,
slender figure at an open window, half
buried in white, soft wrappings, holding
up baby, who laughed and sprang in her
arms, and whose little hand she tried to
wave to me.
Then came the lonely winter at the
North the silent starvation of my heart
through nights and days, the longing i'm
patience, hope. 1t only lasted little
while. I knew / should have her in the
spring, in home of our own that l had
planned already.
1t was in March when her letters, which
had come faithfully all winter on their
stated days, failed suddenly. A week
went by without message from New Or
leans; and when it came at last it was writ.
ten in another hand.
1t was long letter, but I never read il
through. / only read three lines. That
told ME that she was dead, that my baby
was buried in her arms. The yellow.
fever had broken out in the city and my
two were among the first to go; her par
ents had left New Orleans and before
their letters reached me would have sailed
for England.
So | never saw the little, white-wrapped
figure and the laughing baby any more.
never saw either Of theirparents again
1t was better for us all, Mr.. Verdery
had said, that the intercourse should
cease with Edna's and the child's death
and, God knows, felt so, too
So lived on in New York alone. anG
rose in the firm, travelled, and made mon
ey; and wandered from city to city, a
last successful in everything that touched
without trouble or anxiety in life-only
the burden of nv emDtv heart T wa.