Litchfield enquirer., 1880-02-12

OH6nce, ny tlcket-0f leave, by Heavens will, at last. did not know-I could not see that this was Heavens extra punishment I was content to know that the baby loved me best of them all knew I loved it best, and that the mothers love, deep as it might be, was nothing to my own. This was the one f1eeting glimpse of a happy, peaceful home- life which I had ever had, and it turned my brain to be part of it.
 The boy grew brave and strong. With the odds against him from the first, Paul four ished and waxed fat; at one year and eight months of age he was the handsomest, bright est, healtliest of children. Oh, how I loved him How jealous I was in my heart even of his mother, and yet loved the mother too and would have died for either of them willingly, to save him an hours pain, or a days sickness, had the choice been offered
 '.1his isgwrong, Martha-ti,is is itiolatryz- you must not think like this of Paul, or | shall send him away" said Mrs Mayfield growing alarmed, perhaps jealous, at some extravagance of affection which I had shown 1 was on my guard from the moment of that roproof-I was suspected of too much love for the cEild, and it would be necessary to dis guise it lest l should set the mother against me- l did not show my affection so much IT the parents presence now; there was plenty of opportunity to love him-the boy was al ways happy with me, always seeking old Martha out for his companion. s.
 He was twenty months old, 1 have said In all those months luck had not come to the May yields the husband had not earned a pen- ny piece, and the wife had remained an lnva- lid, eternally propped up by pillows in her chair, feignng to wear bright looks and happy smiles, and prophesying still fairer times, to keep her husband from wholly giving up.
 knew the money was nearly all gone Arthur Mayfield had pitched some of it away in mad dash at the Stock Exchange, and had bought the wrong stock, I thlnk they said, and lost by it misfortune glowered up- on them steadily. Tradesmen were more chary of trusting them; there was heap of unpaid bills upon the mantlepiece, and 1 missed things out of the house that came not back again, upon which it had become necessary to raise money for immediate wants.
 It was said at last that I must go: they were unable to pay my wages, and my mis- tress-my poor sick mistress, hardly able to crawl from one room to another even yet thought herself strong enough to do the work. did not leave them because there was no more money to be paid me begged to be al lowed to remain in the one home had known. Iprayed hard not to be cast adrift 1 brought dli Luc LlOucy l udu udU Oi tueui, dEu saved for them, and asked them to take it in earnest of niy gratitude. I moved them to tears and to consent that 1 should stay whilst it was possible.
 It was surely ordained that I should stay a while, for that very evening little Paul met with serious accident : he had nearly severed his wrist with the broken glass of a picture, and there was fresh grief for the parents and me, and much concern till the blood was stanched and the wound stitched up by sur geon. He was not we'll very soon; it had been an ugly wound, within an ace of killing him, and there was deep scar on his dimpled wrist, over which 1 grieved, because it was an ugly mark which he would carry to his grave. l was as foolish over this scar as a doting mother might have been over an only daughter whose beauty she would have had without spot and blemsh, and to whom a scratch was serious defect
 was content when the boy was we'll and strong again-at two years of age he was the picture o;p health and childish beauty; his mother had grown to be almost as proud of him as I was, and began to fret a little be- cause she made more fuss over him, and he turned, childlike, more to her and ess to me. Still, was his nurse and comforter once a day was always his companion, taking him for a walk in the parks which were cl SC to our street in Chelsea where we lived he was not likely to lose all his love for old Martha with Martha to watch and tend him as she did
 The boy was invariably welldressed; there was still money for him. 1 saw to that my self. When gave up my earnings to the Mayfields and bought their gratitude by the sacrifice, kept something back for Paul, and there was always ready smart ribbon for bis ok,n f>rh h,t. a,,I fbnr was too i'll to wonder much about them, or where they came from I do not think my taste was very refined. 1 had the love of the lower orders for bright colors but if decked him out too gaudly, it attracted the notice of the passers by, and the boys beauty won their admiration, if his costume shocked their taste occasionally. l was con- tent; l liked him noticed was very, very proud of all the attention he received.
 One afternoon in Kensington Gardens he received an extra attention which l am never likely to forget. Twogentlemen came along to- gether both walking slowly, one with his hands behind him and trailing cane along the gravel as he listened to the conversation of the other. The man who was listening glanc- ed towards us as we passed, caught the arm of his companion, and dropped his cane upon the path.
 e"Good God, Bauuann look at that child !" was the exclamation which startled me as we'll as his companion.
 l glanced down, fearful that something had happened to my boy without my knowledge; but little Paul was tottering towards the cane, the head of which saw was strangely jewell ed and sparkling with diamonds in the sum-
 Paul." cried, ''you must not"
 -''Let the child pick it up, ''said the man who had dropped the cane. Il am very fond of children
 The first part of the speech was spoken harshly and anthoritatively. The second, af- ter a moments pause, suavely and by way of an excuse. They were both foreigners, by their strange accent the one who had spoken last was thin man, prematurely gray; the other was tall, robust, and swarthy, with i'm mensely long moustaches, which touched his shoulders and were hideons in my sight This was he who was still glaring at the child so strangely that became afraid.
 Paul picked up the stick, and 1, anxious to be gone, said 'Give it to the gentleman, Paul there's good boy and now let ms make haste-niamma will wonder what has become of LIS" 7t fsl
 The younger and taller man stood watching us and twisting the ends of hls moustaches with his gloved hand. I could see his eyes wander ing from the child to his companion. and then askance from his companion to me. The thin, gray mans hand was trembling as he received the cane from the hand of the child, and he said in husky voice:
 What IS your naune-Paul?"
 sEs-Paul, :, was the reply. confident and unabashed. *s
 Paul what, my fine little fellow? Who is the father of this child?" he added, turning suddenly to me, and with singular evidence of importance in hisinquiries where does he .live-wh at-9"
 ''What does it matter?" interrupted the other with hearty laugh" Let us get on. These English children are all alike-fat, healthy, handsome cherubs.. who ose every thing but their fat as they grow up, think. Let us get on, please, they will be waiting for us. You forget"
 ''Ah! yes, I forget"
 The two men walked on, and I observed that the taller man drew the hand of his con- .panion through his arm ssi to lead him away, or to give him support if it were needed. xuync vlo6 e oe