Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1884-03-05

open to the staircase, and that she would
leave light still burning in the dressin'
room, and go down. and out by way of
the garden passage. as we call it, at the
end of which was side door. very easy
to open. and almost out of hearing of any
one in the house.
The nursery clock struck eleven. and |
still heard my mistress in the dressin'
room; but knew she must be going soon
now. Presently there was a sound as if
she had arisen from her chair, and fan
cied she WAS listening to hear if all was
still Then I heard the door from the
dressin' room into the bedroom shut
very gently.
That was the moment for me to get up.
did get up and taking the sleeping child
in my arms, went softly without my
shoes. out into the landing Gor had left
my door aiar as my mistress had done
hers. land down the broad staircase. along
the hall. and into the garden passage be-
fore she had left her room. The baby still
slept and | stood quite still. close by the
garden door. In less than ten minutes my
mistress with candle in her hand came
down the passage too. She was dressed
completely, with Il bonnet on. She came
so hurriedly. so feartullv. and so often
looking back. and | stood so much in
shadow. in a corner of the doorway. that
she didn't see me until she was within a
ward or two from me. But. when she
did see me. and saw in my face that
knew or guessed all. and when, above
everything. held the little sleeping baby
towards her in my outstretched arms, as
though it were the real bar, the real chain
which was to hold her back, she stopped.
and with strong shiver. sank down
powerless on the stone floor of the pas
sage at my feet. | had seized the candle
as it fell from ont her trempliug hand and
set it on a bracket fastened to the wall
Then kissed her. and cried over her. and
said was sure she would not 90. She
would let me take letter out to him
we never spoke his name then, nor af-
terwardS-but she would never 90 and
leave the dear, dear baby Down in that
stone passage. in the dead of night (for
it was long past the appointed hour
when all the house were dreaming and at
rest. my dear lady and wept and sobbed
together; and all the while the Tempter
waited in the moonlight, among the fir
trees, for her who would never come.
My dears. can never tell you all that
passed between my lady and me that
night. The whole thing has always been
a secret. ever since. from all the world :;
and even now, when the chief actors IN
it are dead. | have named no names.
| only tell You that. Gods mercy work
ing on her heart. and by the unexpected
sight of her little child at the last mo-
ment before the awful step would have
been taken. she was saved. She loved
the Temper. anil, by that bitterness,
found out. too late, that she had never
loved her husband. But thank God she
was saved from bitterness greater still !;
known only to a wretched mother who
forsakes her innocent baby. and leaves
for it only the memory of her name ruined
and disgraced
She lived after that terrible night and
the illness it cost her passed, to be cheer
full in irving to do her duty. and in time,
after sort. even happy for she had more
children, and loved them as only dreary
wife. with a neglectful. unsuitable hus-
band can. But she died young, after all
no doubt it was for the best-and no
one but | ever knew what great strug-
gle her life had been