The state journal. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1883-1885, 1884-09-27
THE MARY LILIES.
CHAPTER |

SUNSHINE,
of which he may have up here but the
sun, indeed. And that without the coun
try air is enough to sufIocate him. !"
1t was, indeed. Away in the broad
streets of fashionable Paris, in its great
souares, even in its jealously- closed
houses, with their lofty rooms and wide
windows the heat was almost unsear-
able. Here, in the close, dirty streets,
where the poor herded in crowds IN the
miserable rooms or close workshops, fe
vered and wearied with toll that must
never cease through the long scorching
hours existence became more like death
than life So woman, in an upper room
of one of the tallest and most dilapidated
houses Of the poor quarter, found it. A
heap of work, by which she and her
child lived, lay on table.
This table, two chairs, bed and
PAINTED chest Of drawers, with little paint
left on to tell what kind of wood it was
supposed to represent were the onl ~ tur-
nituIe of the room with its faded walls
and broken woodwork. But the tenant
could not afford to be particular. She
found it hard enough to pay for the
shelter as it was, tOiling from daylight TO
sunset She had scarcely even time TO
notice anything but that great pile OF
work, which meant aching fingers and
eyes, cramped limbs, dizzy, stupefied
brain. But for marvel the busy needle
had ceased for few minutes this morn
ing. The reason for this momentary idle
ness was the only one that could ever
make her hands let h:r work cease-her
child.
The wife of the landlord had come up
stairs, as she often did, to pay visit to
the pale faced, sad eyed Englishwoman,
with the beautiful child, who had taken
her fancy the first moment they had set
foot in her house, six months ago.
For a second or two after her entry
into the room, Madame, as she was al
ways called, could do nothing but sit
on the chair and pant for breath, for she
was stout, and the heat appalling, and the
stairs precipitous as they neared the top
landing. Then a sudden remark from
her when she had at last succeeded in
regaining her breath sent the work and
needle flying from the workers hands,
which had rot ceased even when her
visitor entered the room, and the woman
rose to her feet and went quickly over to
the side Of her child, who, seated on the
floor, was languidly playing with one or
two broken toys.
Madame, as she sat glSping and chok-
ing had been looking at the child, and
something in that white face with its
great dark eyes, in the listless languor of
the tiny hands as they toycd with their
poor little playthings, had sent sudden
chill of fear to her heart
"Ciel But how i'll the child looks T.
The exclamation broke from her invOlun-
tarily. Then the sudden, swift movement
of the mother, the terror in her eyes as
she sank down by the child and caught
him in her arms, made her wish she had
bitten out her tongue before she had ut
tered such a speech.
1T is air he wants., she went on, try
inc to undo the effect of her words, as
the young mother still did not speak, but
bent over the child, who dropped his toys
and flung his arms round her neck with
alittle sob of delight and WEAKNESS, that
showed how he had been yearning for
his mothers arms Bat she had told him
to play with his toys, and by and by,
when She had finished that piece of work,
she would take him and pet him; and,
with patience pitifql in such a baby, he
had tried to obey.
"Cannnt YOU spare a few hours to take
him into the country2 See, little hour
in the night will make up again your
work, and as for the money, it costs very
little. 1t is not good; you have not
taken one holiday since you came. The
little one ought to 60 out from the walls
and streets. Has not he tete like other
children2"
"a fete?" The other turned upon her
with sudden passion. "Did not tell
you that he has no birthday p
She spoke French with faint English
accent, and as, after the passionate out
burst, she bent over her child again, she
murmured in her own tongue:
my darling my darling
The good Frenchwoman looked on
pityingly not understanding the words,
but knowing that they were terms of en-
deaIment.
Estelle looked up suddenly again. The
listless languor of the child as he lay in
her arms perfectly contented now that
his little aching head rested on her breast,
sent chill through her own limbs.
"Would it do him good--a day in the
country"
Good 1t would give him fresh life !"
answered madame. Then she dived into
q capaCious pocket and brought out few
coins. See, | will lend them; another
day you will return them. Decidedly the
child must go ~
A scarlet flush dyed the younger Won
ans face-a face whose firm lines of
mouth and chin betrayed pride that
made it bitterly hard to accepta Charity.
But the child The mouth guivered
TREMENDOUSLY, and sudden mist dimmed
the beautiful eyes.
MADAME, you have been very good t
Us, and yet you know We cannot repay
you"
F'Bah give nae back the money wher
you can. See, will help you dress thu
little one; he is beautiful boy, but it i
great pity that you will always speak tt
him in English; he would make brave
Frenchman-le petit Basil.
A sudden shudder ran through thu
girls frame from head to foot, while
look of almost loathing came into he
eyes. But madame did not see it. Sht
had lifted the child in her arms, and wa
telling him in her own tongue of all tht
beautiful things he was going to see.
'Look, then n she exclaimed in tri
umph. ''He smiles already at tht
thought Of the sunshinean and the flowers.
Tbs two women dressed him tagethe
there was little change to be made il
his clothes, for he had but the dress ht
was wearing laughing over him with tina
Woman,s laughter which is so near t
tears where q child is concerned, caress
ing and talking 10 him in the baby Ian