The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1885-02-06

coat; Tor O minute the lips wers pressed
to it, then lifted. kiss me, John you
are q dear old fellow after all, and I am
o fiend."
The sunshine seemed to leave the
room with the sweet bright presence
and hover over the pretty cradle, among
the sounds and scents Of the midsum-
mer day. In the library there was
only n shaft oflight that came through
the high windows and fell across the
old velyeteen coat, aud the tidy manu-
scripts, and the open books, and left
the handsome, clever, refined face in
shadow.
CHAPTER II.
1t might have been two hours after
ward-painful after events created a con-
fusion in Mr.. Nicholson's mind, and the
two hours might have been two days
when he became aware of a laugh in the
passage by the door. His hand had
grown tired with writing, but the pen
travelled steadily on; his eyes had grown
o little tired; audit was a relief to raise
them for a minute to the locked door,
behind which he heard the laugh. He
rose, with q half smile on his grave
face, and paused, struck by q sudden
presentiment. Something came back
to him, as he stood in the dull light Of
the dull room ; was it . dream or q mem
DRY, o. was 1.-THE baby. He pushed
his papers hurriedly away and walked
over to the door and uniockedi it throwing
it wide open. There was nothing in the
passage but the yellow sunlight now
imam $ba walls orI nv Tho ill ~~r,k,
and Mrs. Nicholson standing in her
pretty gray dress, with her slim hands
stretched out and the laugh that had
disturbed him still upon her lips.
In the room beyond there was more
sunlight and the cradle.
"John," cried Mrs. Nicholson, laugh
ing again as if she could not help it,
what have you done with her? Give
her to me. You are earning your title
to the best of husbands!n
He looked up in quick perplexity.
What is it, Agatha? What do you
want? I have nothing to give you"
ooh don't, joint" she cried. impa-
tiently don't tease! I want baby"
"Well!"-the same perpIexed look
creeping over his face. and s~eftening its
sternness-"take her." stretching out
his hand to the cradle in the sunlight.
Agatha's eye were turned on him for
a minute with look of contempt before
which heposltively quailed. Then she
swept over to the cradle. and tossed out
the little pillow. aud the sheets with
their lace edges, and the pale blue sat
in coverlet on the floor in q soft heap,
and stood looking down upon the emp
ty cradle as if she would conjure up the
pink face and the fiaxen head into their
accustomed place.
Mr.. Nicholson had followed her on
itip-toe and was stirring the softly shin
Ing heap on the floor with his patent
leather shoes, as if he had imagined
hat she had tossed the baby out among
them.
"Well?" said Agatha sharply.
"Well?" he echoed feebly.
do you mean to say" she said, put
ting aside her angry vehemence and
speaking tearfully, with her gray eyes
turned up to his-HOh, John, do you
mean to say that you have lost herr" +
Il never touched her" he cried hast
lily. 81 never" heard her, he would
have added, but again that faint mem
oAypAuo oAC6M"bUlIIou ullu. OpOu
my honor, Agatha" he said abruptly,
leaning down into the cradle, and polk
ing at the mattres with his thin fingers,
upon my honor I can't remember"
"You can't remember!" said Agatha,
with slow scorn. "Why, John, she
roared! Cook heard her in the kitchen.
She came rushing up, and found the
cradle empty and baby gone. She
thought you had taken her into the
study; she told me 50; but oh, John, it
was somebody else, and they have
stolen her"
my dear" he said, shaking himself
together, and speaking more lightly,
"who would steal her?-a baby roaring,
as you say!" He shuddered. "Why
surely no one in his senses would do
such a thing!"
"Emmy's baby~ sried Agatha tear-
fully, "and that is how you speak of
her! O John, dear John, think again:
didn't you hear her? Perhaps you have
forgotten-perhaps you have put her
somewhere, and she has gone TO sleep.
Sit down, John. and think-perhaps
you have put her somewhere and for
COTTON"
Mr.. Nichslson sat down on the win
dow sill and covered his face with his
hands. He tried to think, but when
eve he concentrated his mind on the
baby he was dimly conscious of that
fading fancy that he coald not grasp
that dream of q cry. 1t had disturbed
him, he remembered, that loud, pain
full, jarring cry, but it had died away:
surely it had died into peace without
his interference? agatha" he said,
lifting up his face, sharpened with the
effect of thought, II do remember some.
thlng-somebody crying; it must have
been the babe"
Eyes" said Agatha eagerly, Ego on!
You heard heri That is right. Cook
says you must have heard her. she roar
ed 80. Well, and then? You"
I'll can't remember, Agatha. I
may have gone on writing that seems
the most likely, think; but ] may have
gone to the door. No" shaking his head,
II can't get beyond the cry. I do re-
member that now distinctly"
Perhaps said Agatha hopefully,
through her tears, s.you have put her
somewhere in the library. What have
you deem doing or using this afternoon?'
Mr.. Nicholson followed humbly as
she swept in before him. andflung open
the great curtains, SO that the light
rushed in on to his table strewed with
plans and manuscript. Even then he
spread out his hands, almost uncon-
sciously. to defend his precious papers
from her light scornful touch; but she
stoodin the centre of the room, looking
into every corner with her quick soft
eyes.
What have you nsed, John-this
chair? You have not been to the cup
hnaxd2 Mr. eenin inf4A a dark raaoaa