Connecticut western news., 1881-09-21

"I cannot always hide it! I cannot always bear it about with me it breaks my heart, and-I am so tired"
 And letting the hand which still held, pressed closely to her, the mysterious bundle that had so raised my curiosity drop heavily to her side, there lay at her feet and mine little dead baby, tiny creature, evidently not many weeks old. Then the woman threw up her veil, and withdrawing her eyes for the first time from mine, clasped her hands be- fore 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- ring so white in it's death and baby robe against the heavy crape skirt on which it lay-a pretty picture certainly for 8 railway carriage, and lighted by it's dim midnight lamp
 "Dead !" was my involuntary excla- nation.
 She stretched her clasped hands downward toward it with despairing gesture, speaking with low, wild, rapid utterance.
 ''It was not his look that killed it, but my love. He hated it, my baby, my first born; for all the love 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. o, my baby, my baby p
 The outstretched hands had reached it now and raised it from the floor to the seat, folding it around until the enclos- ing arms and the down-bent face hid it once more out of sight. Was ever luckless traveller more awk- wardly placed? The dead child, the prostrate woman, the scene 8 public railway carriage, the hour midnight. Would not my little wife have triumphed could she have but known how infinitely I should have preferred the spring mat tress and snowy sheets to my present position?
 am of blunt nature. Mrs. Merton often scolds me for my blunt, straight forward speeches. But then she has such pretty way of beating about the bush, which it would be as absurd for me to initiate as it was for the ass to mimic the tricks of his masters lapdog. l must go straight to the point as soon as ever see it. l did so now.
 How came you to be travelling alone, and with dead child? Are you going home ?"
 The question seemed to rouse her once more to 8 perfect frenzy of fear. She turned to me as before, clinging to my hand with small, hot fingers, and the old heartbroken cry:
 "Don't betray me; don't give me up to him His look would have killed my baby; it would kill me if I had to meet it. She is safe, for I killed her, and she is dead and he hates me, and I have no home-no home !'
 was in perfect maze of doubt. Gould the pretty, soft young creature at my feet be indeed murderess? and could it be her husband of whom she seemed in such abject terror? My blood boiled; I felt ready to defend hel against dozen husbands but how?
 It was midnight now; we could not be far from London the guard might be popping in his head at any moment | jumped to sudden conclusion.
 "Were you going to any friend il London ?"
 "I know nobody in London"
 "The poor little thing is either mao or her husband is 8 brute," was my mental exclamation.
 "Then you must come home with m. to my wife; she will see after you."
 An upward glance of wild, agonizet supplication:
 "She won't betray me, cr-take bab, from me?" and once more the wee dead thing was lifted up into the arm that seemed almost too frail to hold i and hidden away beneath the lonI mourning c1pe.
 took her home. Mary received he with broad look of amazement tha made me smile, but that found no ex pression in words. When, taking he aside, I told her all I knew she wrun her hands in sheer sympatizing pity. "Murdered her own baby-her first born! o, how sad, how dreadful And involuntarily she glanced towar the door that hid us from our own littl
 ones, safely cradled and asleep. The we went back to our strange guest, wh sat huddled up in my own big eas , chair, the dead baby still at her bosol : "I must get her to bed," said Mar. 3 with quick, determined nod; and sl really did contrive to do so by soft, tel der, cooing words, and solemn assu - ances of safety for herself and bab, : whom she kissed and cried over, ar considered as she might some living ol ject of solicitude, much to the lit :; mothers comfort.
 "And you won't betray me; and = won't come and take her from me, g hurt us with his angry look! O dea how nice it is to lie down !! I am u tired, and baby is so cold but I thil o I can sleep now little and-forget. :" U She was half asleep already; the hea' T. lids had dropped together, the sma Q pale face had dropped downward up, e the little downy head that lay again o her bosom.
 l. "Her husband must be sent for" " l. said resolutely, when we found oursel7 y once more alone and I glanced at D. envelope I had taken from the strange Id pocket:
 MRS. TREMAYNE, at Grantley Lodge,