New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1881-08-28

heart sick. She made a heroic effort to hide from,
was with her it was possible to keep up; but he
had his duty to do, and when she was alone the
Door little thing boke her heart unreservedly. and
was as misel able as ever girl of her years oh,
my baby! oh, my bonnie little man Oh, my
barn-my little bainv the poor young creature
1t turned out that there would still be weeks TO
wait before the transport was ready, and the bat
taiion was one while at Chat ham and another at
portsmouth, lingering and weary, till it received its
maj orders to embark. Perhaps the novelty of
ihese movements helped her TO conquer herself and
IL Is certain thai she made heroic effort to repre-
sent TO herself that HE would be better ofi-far
better, with her mother now that he had lost his
natural food. How was a baby like that TO support
long voyageg Edward was very soon brought to
take this view of the He had been very prond
OF his child, and delighted with him; but to have
Jeanne back again with no divided interest. able to
go with him wherever he went without leaving
half her thoughts behind was still greater hap
with philosophy which instantly woke in her the
germs OF rebellion They had been sitting talking
saying, with culver in her voice, has no reason
to complain. If Eye come away, rvc left her
nttle man! lie was taking such notice. If / only
passed HIM he would laugh TO me and put out his
him. / think feel him With bis wee basd dnMn
close and his cheek like velvet.
vod NY y ddrngp sad Edward, but think. owe
yo YOU mother somethins for your running away. lie
WI be all to her that he was To you. He will be
IKE her very own: She will have all his bonnie
But he's no her very own cried Jeanne. with
start Hes my hairn--nobody's in the world but
after ALL ms sunny
Yes, my own love- said Edward soothinrlv; .hut
think what a comfort to her; and it will be far
better for himthe quiet and the good air. and the
COW; fancy instead of our long voyage and no
comforts. If you were taking him with you, nv
darling, and doing everything for him. it would
make me wretched-it would wear you OUT
Make You wretched to have your own son--your
Jeanne. sprnging TO her feet. / thought different
once but now see my mothers right. and Janet
heart for your children. Edward | Gamma live
without him. Oh, my little baby,-my own little
BARN / cannot live without him l will go out
of my senses if do not get back my boyv
Ard when this agony had once burst out there
was no no stopping it. Edward had as little power
the impe tuous despair of the young wife and to
tell the truth. it was not difficult to re-awaken in
his own boyish bosom q longing for the baby,
which had been so delightful toy and so great an
object Of pride. The two sat down and wrote an
letter requiring that the baby should be sent or
brought at once to his longing parents.
But, instead Of Mrs Pillans's arrival with
the child, which Jeane had made sure
of-which she had even posted herself at
the window TO watch for, while Edward, still more
arrival of the coach-there came a letter-the
klndest, most tender and loving of letters. but
by tyrannical raIent. Both the father and mother
wrote to say that the child was far better in their
hands: that jeanne would have enough TO do 10
take charge of her own comfort on the dismal voy
age-that to care for her child besides would be to
kill her, aud a hundred arguments more. Jeanne
read this with white and rigid countenance-
with cries of fury and pain. She transformed
INTO little ANCHOR. If You prefer it, demOn-of
passion. When Edward, poor fellow, tried to
soothe her, and to echo the arguments (which had
been her own argumentsl about the advantages TO
the child of remaining at home. sue flung away
from him with blaze of Indignation lie was
almost glad that he had to leave her for his duty,
though he went 70 that with heavy heart. He did
not know what might be going TO happen to him
that day when he went back to the lodgings
which had been little paradise long as Jeanne
His worst fears seemed to be realized when he
went in. little travelling bag stood Oh the stable,
open, cramned with things thrust into il anyhow !;
and ;leanes cloak was thrown over chair. She
met hun with pale and resoute face. Poor Ed
ward did not know what TO do. IL seemed 10 be bis
to take the passive part 10 endure, rs women gen
orally have TO do. Something sweled in his throat,
50 HAT he could scarcely speak. q have brought
bid you, though / Your husband. Are you
gong 10 give me up JeanieP the young man ex-
Then she began to laugh in her excitement
Give you mp me give yon upi Me leave him. oh,
do ye hear him speaking That's ali he knows:
in little pieces; but you must not say word-not
word-you must let me do it or will die. am
Jeanne! YOU I and / cannot get away; journey
like that days and days! you cannot do il. it viii
you are and how delicateG No, no. | cannot let
yo.; kill yourself --you must not do it?
But | WILLY said the girl. She looked about
fifteen she stood beside him in her simple irock,
with her fair hair knotted up for the journey, and
her blue eyes blazing: but Edward, proud OF her
even IN this bold rebellion, Thought she looked like
n general ready for some daring expedition. And
what was there more TO be said jeanne carried
out her intention. Thee was not in any of these
people who loved her strength enough 10 subdue
the energy and the force of this passionate nature.
That evening, with many fears, Edward went with
her to the coach and put her in. anXiously looking
for some female fellow travecr who would have
care of her. But Jeanne soorned all such precau-
tons. She feared nothing. : wall be back in
week. and will bring HIM. and we'll never be
parted more she SAID.
The household at Bruntsfcd did not know what
was happening, but, without knowing il, they
very uneasy. When they read in the papers that
were in their mouths, rs Mrs. Pillans said. What if
they might be driving their own child TO despair
AS soon n step of this kind had been taken the
mind begins 10 rebel against ito suggest a hun
dred evils that may follow Oh, how dare l. how
dare | lake pleasure from my own lassie Mrs
Pillans said to herself when she sat with the baby
And so the days went on they were terrible DAYS
TO everybody concerned. No sooner was his wife
terror that there were good hopes that the trans
port might be ready sooner than was anticipated.
Good hopes! The young man was more miserable
than can be described. lie Would desert, he
thought, like of the men, if Jeanc did not
arrive IN time and the parents, though they knew,
nothing were excited and anxious, wondering If
their decision would make their child wretched-
compunctous and remorseful, longing yet terrified
for the next letter. The weather had changed, too,
to make things worse: II Iained perSIstently day
after day, sometimes happens in autumn. and
from being warm became all at once unSeasonably
cold, damp, dark and miserable.
The letters were delivered late at Brunts-
field. 1t was in the afternoon that they came, and
Mrs. Pillans had been watching at the parlCr Win
dow for n long time before the hour on the day of
the return post, her heart sick with thoughts of
what Jeanne might say. She eft the parlor
and went to the cheerful fre-lghted room
which the baby inhabited, feeling at the
WRONG OF uepnNhg ler chlld OF IL. AS she looked
out at the side window IN passing she saw little
figure in II cloak, dragging feebly along the back
way through the garden in the darkness aud the
the drcnchcd clothes, the forlorn appearance alto