The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1881-08-02

There was nothing for 1t, then, but to
give up all hope of sleep, and make the
best of my position and companion,
| whom / now observed more closely.
That she was lady there could be little
doubt; there was that In her dress and
appearance that was sunmistak0ble. ThM
she was pretty, there could be no doubt,
either those dark, intensely dark eyes,
the thick coils of warm FURNISHED hair,
the small, pale features, seen dlmly
beneath the veil yes, she was young,
pretty, lady and in trouble. So far l
got, but no further. How came she to
be travelling alone at that time of night,
and with that look on her face What
could 1t be that she was holding pressed
so closely to her, and yet SO carefully
kept out of sightp From the size and
uncertain outline, / should have guessed
it to be child; but then, there was not
the faintest motion, nor could she have
held sleeping infant long in that
position. ] think that something of
curiosity must have been betrayed in
my look, for her own darkened and
deepened into perfect agony of fear
and doubt
Ashamed, withdrew my gaze at
once, and, drawing out my notebook,
was about to make memorandum,
when, with sudden forward move
ment, she fell at my feet, arresting my
hand by the agonizing grasp of her own,
its burning contact sending through me
painful thrill.
Don't betray mel Don't give me
up to him Oh don't! / am so fright.
ened !"
1t was but a whisper, breathed out
rather than spoken, yet it shuddered
through me like cry.
I" L can not always hide it, can not
always bear it about with me; it breaks
my heart, and-I am SO tiredn
And letting the hand which still held,
pressed closely to her, the mysterious
burden that so had raised my curiosity
drop heavily to her side, there lay at her
feet and mine little dead baby, a tiny
creature evidently not many weeks old.
Then the woman threw up her veil,
and, withdrawing her eyes for the irst
time from mine, clasped her hands
before her, her figure thrown slightly
back, and looked down upon it. A
pretty picture; the poor young mother,
with her pale child's face and deep
mourning dress the wee baby, gleam-
ing so white in its death and baby-robe
against the heavy Grape skirt on which
it lay-a pretty picture certainly for
railroad carriage and lghtened by its
dim midnight lamp.
"Dead !" was my voluntary exclama-
ton.
She stretched her raised hands down.
ward toward it with a despairing gest-
ure, speaking with low, wild, rapid
utterance.
cit was not his look that killed it,
but my love. He hated it, my baby,
my first. born for all the love 1 gave
him, he hated it., and that his look
might not kill it, held it in my arms,
so close, so close, till it was dead. Oh,
my baby, my baby ~
The outstretched hands had reached it
now, and raised it from the floor to the
seat, folding it around until the inclos-
ing arms and the down-bent face hid it
once more out of sight.
Was ever luckless traveller more
awkvardly placed the dead child; the
prostrate woman the hour, midnight.
l am of u blunt nature. Mrs. Merton
often scolGs me for my blunt, straight
forward speeches but then she has such
pretty way of beating about the bush,
which it would be absurd for me to imi-
tate as it was for the ass to mimic the
tricks of his master Is lap-dog. must
go straight to the point as soon as see
it. did so now.
How came you TO be travelling
alone, and with dead child Are you
going homer"
The question seemed to arouse her
once more to the perfect frenzy of fear.
She turned to me as before, clinging to
my hand with small, Hot fingers and
heart-broken cry
Don't betray me, don't give me up
to him His look would have killed my
baby; it would kill me If l had to meet
it. She is safe, for killed my baby;
and he hates me and have no home
no home.
Twas in a perfect maze of doubt