Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-04-20

She was dependent upon neT aunt ; lu-
come for food for herself and child. The
goodly fortune left by Mr. Adair had all
taken wings as riches frequently do.
One acknowledgements night Louis
returned to find his gentle wife sitting up
for him in the meanly furnished sitting
room, her babe asleep in cradle by her
side. 1t was long past midnight, bu' still
she sat there watching for his return.
Cecil. he said, as he came in and stood
before her, Il am beggar We owe
two hundred dollars rent tor this poor ten
ement, and have not a cent in the world.
Tonight. | thought l would win some
money, would again bring you to the
right kind of home. | risked all, Cecil,
siaked your watch. and-lost it.
Cecil started to her feet, clasping her
lrai hands together.
My warchr she said. 1.-THE one my
dear father gave me on my fifteenth birth
day ! O, Louis! how could you take it ?
ii am wretch" he replied, IL have
no strength of character, no fiXity OF pur
pose. | have made you a poor husband,
Cecil. and you would be happier il were
gone
NAY, do not leave me-" said Cecil,
gently, "better to give up these bad com
panions. Let us 90 to Yarrow and live
in our old little cottage. You can then
be free from these men, and be my dear,
good Louis once more. | am content to
be poor II you will only he true to your
self Louis. and give up habits which make
us both miserable. For my sake. and for
the babes sake, come back to Yarrow, and
let US begin new life together.
''For the baby's sake - repeated Louis
bitterly. 80, regret that he WAS ever
born 10 such heritage of shame. Stay
here. Cecil, until call you
He bent over her and kissed her again
and again. Then pressed his lips to the
white forehead OF his little boy.
You will call me soon, Louis p Cecil
asked.
YES" he replied, and left her alone
with the sleeping child.
Cecil waited five, ten minutes. Still no
call from Louis. Just as she rose to 90
up the stairs, her child in her arms, the
report OF pistol sounded through the
building.
Heavens :" cried Cecil, what can that
mean p''
She flew up the stairs. her baoe still in
her arms.
What sight met her gaze. On the
floor of the bedroom lay Louis Adair,
struggling 10 the last throes Of death. A
pistol lay on the floor by him, and his
clothes were saturated with blood.
Cecil" no whispered, brokenly rs his
wife bent over him, forgive me" and he
expired.
When Miss Hitty and the servant came
running in, reused from their rest by the
report of the pistol, they found Cecil in
dead faint on the floor, stained with the
blood from her husbands flowing wound,
and the babe of seven months crawling
over them and crying piteousIy.
1t was long before Cecil recovered from
the shock of her husbands suicide. She
became melancholy and silent and nothing
but the crying of her child ever reused her
from the apathy into which she had fallen
She became so wrapt up in little Paul that
she could moi bear to have him out OF her
sight, and called a doctor on the slightest
symptoms OF illness. They removed to
Yarrow. and again took possession of The
little cottage where Mrs. Desmond had
died. Here little Paul grew stout and
hearty, and ran in the yard all day long,
watched by his anxious mother.
One day when he was three years old,
aud as bright and beautiful boy rs there
was in Yarrow, he caught slight cold.
Cecil doctored him up, and kept him in
the house, much to the little fellows dis
pleasure, for he wanted To run out and
play with the other children.
Aunt" said Cecil, AS she held him in
her arms, just before putting him to bed,
IL do believe | worship Paul s. long as
he is left to me. l can be content to
live, but without him-O, | dare not think
how | should feel, | am only twenty-one
years OF age, and yet have lost every
thing on earth dear TO me except my
child. / could not lose him Heaven
has been cruel to me, but not SO cruel as
Ia take my only child"
cit seems to me-" said her aunt, THAT
some folks are cut out to have all the
trouble in this world. You have had your
share my dear, | know. But you must
not worship Paul so. Heaven takes our
dearest and best in order to teach us to
bow beneath the rod with spirit of meek
ness"
Il could not live ii he were taken from
me-" said Cecil.
That night she was reused by the child's
hoarse, labOred breathing. She knew in
AN instant that he had the Group. She
rushed frantically to her aunt's room,
reused the servant and sent her for the
doctor, and then did all she knew how for
her darling. But the little fellows breath
came more and more painfully. He lay
On his mothers lap, and she was bending
over him with face of agony, when the
servant returned with the information that
DIR. Newell was not at home, had gone to
the country to see a patient. She was
sent for DIR. Gaines. while Cecil went al
most mad with terror. All at once the
breathing ceased, the hoarse sounds were
stilled. Little Paul gave one convulsive
shudder and then lay still--a corpse on
his mothers knees.
When the doctor came at last, Cecil was
sitting in her chair, clasping the babe to
her breast, singing over the stiffening
corpse, and laughing wildly. She had be-
come insane from grief.
Many long weeks did she lie wretched
invalid from brain fever, and her aunt was
her devoted nurse. When at last she re-
covered she was greatly changed Never
more did her laugh ring out as 10 oden
days. Her heart was still bound up in
her child, aud she waited with impatien nee
for the tune TO come VIII, she might ioin