St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1885-01-31
LOST AND FOUND.
How Mr.. Nicholson Took Caro- Of
the Precious Baby.
CHAPTER /.


Mrs. Nicholson was standing in du-
bious attitude, with the study door half
open, and her eyes turning from the
quiet figure in the armchair by the
table to another open door in the pass
age behind her, through which she
could see flood of sunshine, and in the
sunshine cradle.
II don't feel quite easy she said; II
am so afraid she would cry aQd no one
hear her. wish had not let nurse go
out; but all you have to do" coming
into the room and speaking impressive
ly, ''all you have to do is to ring the
bell violently-violently, remember for
cook. For Heavens sake, john lean
ing on the table and stretching out a
pretty hand to attract her husbands at
tention, ''look up, or speak, or answer
me, or you viii drive me mad!''
'sWhat is it all about, Agatha?" The
calm, placid, intelligent face opposite
was lifted gently, and the thin finger
was slipped onto the page to mark a
pause.
'sIt is baby, John" said Mrs. Nichol-
son, in faltering voice, and with idle,
angry tears rolling down her cheeks.
3'Here have /, for the last ten minutes,
been begging and imploring of you to
remember baby; not to nurse her, /
wouldn't trust you, but only to ring the
bell if she cries.
..Does that stop herr 1t seems
simple enough. l think even | can do
that.
But Mrs. Nicholson shook her head,
still weeping.
'.You may laugh at me or sneer if
You like. If it were my own baby /
would say nothing; would bear it all;
but Emmy's!''
With patient sigh the gentleman at
the writing table pushed the book away
and lost his place. He looked at her in
a bewildered way.
''What is it, Agatha? baby! 0,
Emmy's baby, of course. =
.sAnd not one-haf, one-hUndredth
part, one-thousandth part, as valuable
in your eyes, broke in Agatha, with
impetuosity, ''as the smallest, the most
unknown, the most undiscovered star!
You need not tell me; know it.
"Ofcourse, = froWning gently, every
one knows that a star, however small
stars are not famous according to their
size, my dear-is of infinitely more
value than one hair of a baby's head.
I mean hastily speaking entirely
from the scientific point of view; but as
YOU were saying you were saying, were
YOU not little doubtfully-' some
thing about that unfortunate babe of
Emmy sP''
Mrs. Nicholson had dried her eyes,
and was confronting him in all the cool
splendor of her pretty summer dress,
and with all the calm determination OF
a woman who has made up her mind.
Eyes, was" she said; ''only, once
for all, John, if you call it babe I will
leave your house at once and never,
never come back; and if you call it I'M
fortunate / shall take that hateful man
uscript with me ard burn it at the
kitchen fire. If it were yours with
imprisoned irony-''it might, indeed,
be described as unfortunate; but
Charles is the best of fathers. and he
has always been the best of husbands. !"
''Yes, yes, of course, my dear. Isaid
nothing against Charles; l did not know
we were talking about him. We can
finish him up tonight, " cheerfully. If
that is all you had better go out now,
while it is fine, z turning his eyes to the
dazzling sunlight for an instant, and
than back to his blotted page. ''You
csn tell me about Charles, Z you know,
when you come in. The best OF hus-
bands! / don't know much about
them, fear, but | know little about
the best of wives. y
He rose and laid his hand on the long,
slender, soft gray glove that was lean
ing with determination on his neat man
nGcaipt. The gray glove closed round
his hand gently and chung to him, al
most as if it were 10th to leave the thin,
worn fingers; but he patted i gently
and laid It aaide. Mrs. Nicholson gave