St. Landry democrat., 1882-09-02

With the first sunny spring days ''It''
began to play in the garden, which I
could overlook from my seat in my Of
flee. She was generally with linn. |
could hear the sound of his little feet on
the pebbles, and then her footsteps.
Now she would playfully chase him,
and a chorus OF twittering sparrows
would join their merry notes with the
merry laughter. Now she would catch
him and kiss his cheeks over and over.
Once | opened my window; a warm,
balsamc air streamed around rle, and
a butterfly t1uttered in and lit on my
inkstand. Just then she came out of a
green, vine-grown bower, she was
dressed in dazzling white negligee,
trimmed with costly lace: all over her
streamed the golden sunshine, except
that her face was overshadowed by the
pink of her parasol.
How slim she appeared! how grace
full in her movements. Had | been
blind? Truly the aunt and cousins
were right; she was in reality beautiful
A sweet smile transformed her features;
she was happy certainly in this mo-
ment she was-and her happiness came
from her child. Then a voice made it.
self heard in my breast, which said very
plainly: "You are monster?'' l got
up and walked to the window "It is
beautiful day. called |. | know
how cold and prosaic it must have
sounded to her. 1t came like heavy
cloud-shadow over sunny landscape.
She answered something that | did not
understand; but the brightness was
gone from her little face. Then she
took up the child, who was stretching
out his arms to her, and kissed and
caressed him before my eyes.
There it was when the first feeling of
jealousy was aroused in me; jealousy
truly, but what strange jealousy,
which could not make clear to itself who
was its object! If It. said "mamna'
to her there came a pain in the heart;
and the caresses with which she over
whelmed him almost drove me wild |
was Jealous of both. 1t panied me that
| had no part in this weaving of love;
that [ was not a. third in the union. |
exerted myself to gain a part of their
love. did it very clumsily. The child
persevered in certain shyness, and
she-had l not kept myself forcibly
away from her during these long, long
years?
One day at the dinner table, after a
skirmlsh of words, came great still
ness between US, stiffness more pain
full than it had ever been. | glanced
down at the flowers on my plate of
Saxon porcelain, my displeasure show
ing in my face; but felt pl;siizly that
1T had its eyes fixed on me, and also
her eyes! 1t was as if those four eyes
burned on my forehead. Then sounded
suddenly in the stiffness: "Papa"' and
again, louder and more courageous:
.'Papan' | shuddered. It sat there
and stared, now very much frightened,
overat me, wondering, perhaps; whether
a storm would be raised by its Papa
But her face now was sutfused with
glowing redness, and her half-open lips
trembled slightly.
There came flood of gladness over
my heart Certainly no one but her
had taught him this ''Papa." Why did
l not spring up, bound toward her, and
with one word, one embrace, strike out
the loneliness of these last six years?
One right word in this moment and all
would have been well. 1t remained
unspoken; | seemed to have lost all
power TO act; but on certain page of
my ledger are still traces of the tears l
shed in anger at my own stupidity.
There was no doubt about it, another
spirit had stepped in with it's little curly
head the spirit of Love; and that made
me a stranger in my own house. A
precious sunshine bri ghtened the rooms
even when the one in the heavens was
hidden by clouds. The faces of the
servants and even inanimate objects,
streamed back their radiance. But me,
only, the sunshine did not touch.
l felt myself always more and more
unhappy in my loneliness. Jealousy
grew in me; it gave me all sorts of fool
ish thoughts | wanted to rebel against
the little autocrat, but that would be
ridiculous. | wanted to give her the
choice between him and me. /, auda-
cious one, knew very well which side
her heart would choose. At another
time was ready to take steps in order
to find the mother, and with the power
of gold, force her to take back her child
behind my wife's back. That would
be cowardly. !,
could no longer fix my mind on bust
ness. | mistrusted even myself. Peo-
pie asked what was the matter with me.
I feigned illness.
The sunshine would not let itself be
banished, and the spirit OF, love was
stronger than /. With his flaming
sword he drove me out. 81 must take
a long journey, Martha My voice
as | said this. Ny wife must
have noticed it; for something like
moist, shining pity trembled in her
beautiful eyes. At my taking leave, she
hel the. little one towards me and
asked, in soft, caressing tones: viii
Won not saw adieu to orr childp' | took