The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1879-09-24

e This was all, except few words a
5 the end that had been hastily scratche,
5 out, of which l could distinguish only
!, "'Oh, Harold Z"
Strange as it may seem, this note did
r not shock me at the discovery Of Ma
a ran guilt had done. | felt so angr,
/ with her for her unreasonable conduct
e that my tenderer feelings remained
t most untouched Nv love for Marian
e OF former years had not decreased on,
whit, but my anger with the present
D Marian was for the moment paramount.
e The child was better with her, and for
the present she should keep him, for |
had no Idea Of fetching her back She
had left me through no unkinkuess of
my own, and no wife could be Justified
IN leaving her husband in the way Ma
rian had left me.
l was beginning to get a little accus-
toned to my renewed batchelorhood
when one night very late, a telegram
was brought me- worded thus:
Come at once to baby"
The night-train would leave in about
an hours time. | packed a few things
and started to catch it. In about three
hours more | was conducted into the
room where Marion was sitting with our
little one lying in her lap, struggling
hard for life. Some medical man was
already there, bending ovrr tho child
and anXiously gazing at its contorted
and livid features, but, as far as / could
see, doing but little to assist in the
battle against death. He left at once.
and Marian looked up into my face and
said
Thank God, you have come. He
was doing no good. Oh, Harold save
my baby save my child.
Il will do what l can to save our
child | answered.
| called a servant and gave my in
structions. In few minutes the room
was filled with vapor, every vent being
carefully guarded. The cloud of vapor
kept on steadily increasing, till drops of
water began to trickle down the walls.
Still the child on Marian's lap Law al
most choked, its struggles growing
| fainter and fainter each succeeding time.
The cloud was still pouring out into the
room, and nothing more could be done.
so | stood at Marian's knee watching for
| the approach of some favorable symptom. /
Only once Marian spoke, and then it |
was to ask me, with blanched face and !
faltering lips, if there was any hope
10 the last moment, yes l an
swered and she was relieved at once,
hardly comprehending from my words .
how faint that hope was.
Presently the struggles grew more
frequent; gradually the almost lifeless
limbs became imbued with fresh vigor,
the heavy lids relaxed, the gasps for
breath became more efectual, and with .
a mighty effort nature asserted her
sway. In short time baby was nest
ling peacefully in Marian's arms, wrapped
in sweet lite-giving slumber.
When he was laid in his cot, his
mother turned to me and said patheti-
cally, "Oh, Harold when baby was so
near death, and you far away, | could
not help seeing how wicked l had been
to leave you as did. Will you forgive
me, dear, and take me back for baby's
sake ?"
| could only kiss her and press her to
my heart. After awhile / said, at was
only those words, viii you forgive
me- that | wanted If you would
have spoken them sooner we need never
have parted"
ooh, Harold! how can your Il vag
not that | was asking you to forgive me,
but my folly in leaving you. | am as
innocent of taking that wretched money
as my own child. Won't you believe
me p
Il do, my darling, | do" 1 replied,
with genuine delight Il would have
believed you then if you had said this
to me but you know younever deigned
me word and what was | to think p
Il was so Mortified at your even sus-
pecting me that fancied it was beneath
me to deny it. Icannot now understand
what could have prompted you to think
such dreadful thing of me. 1t was
very hard to bear"
l was beginning to wonder, too, how
/ could have suspected my own Marian.
Circumstances and my mother were
more to blame than l, however.
In answer, | murmured something
about Frank.
''Ah, that letter to Frank l remem-
Der it, You were always so hard on
him that | didn't like to tell you about
it. He really had been trying to keep
on steadily at the post your kindness
had obtained him, but old debts were
constantly coming in, and his limited
salary would not meet them and keep
him as we'll There was one man who
pressed him hard for El0. He had spent
his last quarters salary within pound
or two, and more would not be coming
for some time. He wrote and told me
this, asking me to help him, butt could .
not. He wrote again, and said he must
draw on his salary, but | begged him
not to do so, so soon. | was sure his
employers would think ii a bad sign.
The man threatened to expose his former
habits to the firm. which you know
might have ruined him with them.
resolved to help him this once, and in
order to do so sold my diamond brooch, /
which | scarcely ever had occasion to
wear. | got 80 for it and | sent him .
notes to that amount-he little guessed /
at what cost"
"My poor, prosecuted, self-sacrifcing
little woman; why did you not tell me
all this? Why could you not trust
me"
"Why could you not trust me p
Marian demanded, halfplayfully, half
patheticallv Then she added earnestly,
II have been very much to blame. l
was proud, and self-willed, and all sorts
of bad things, and then leaving you was
worse than all. Harold, dear, i am so
ashamed of myself for that. No woman
is justified in leaving her husband on 80
slight pretext as l had"
1 thought so too. She was becoming
the most sensible little woman in the
world but / had been to blame, too,
and was not going to let all the mag
nanimity be on her side.
1--WE were both to blame" / replied.
81 am not going to exonerate you quite,
little wife, but | am going to own to my
fault. | was a brute to doubt you.
Marian, you must forgive me, dear"