Connecticut western news., 1893-12-21

her little one softly the while as if she were putting her to sleep.
 It was heartbreaking. The women to whom the child was only a dear little baby who would be better off in Heaven" as the phrase goes, crept about the room weeping softly with aching hearts, while she to whom she was all of earth was dry-eyed. After time Margaret looked up,
 Doctor" she asked, ''how long?"
 '''I can hardly tell" he answered. ''but only few hours at best, think. !"
 She turned to the women.
 ''Send for her father" she said, briefly.
 There was a slight stir of surprise. Significant glances passed from one to another behind her bowed head. Then they went out to do her bidding. And do you ask why the father must be sent for? why husband and wife had stood alone on this long, long day, when of all days they should have leaned upon each other? cannot tell. I only know that one year ago to-day, in an unguarded hour, a word-born of throbbing brain, or quivering nerve, or an aching tooth, perhaps-had wounded a heart; that other words, sharper and more stinging, had fol | lowed; that the imprisoned demons of misunderstanding and pride and ob- stinacy had been let loose, and that these two who had vowed ito love and to cherish had stood and cruelty thrust each other through until their hearts were torn and bleeding. :. And tEe sun went down on blasted home. And man tossed on slcepless bed that night, saying over and over: If I could only take,it baclp' And a woman knelt in her lonely house and sobbed: 70, God! O,Ciod! If I hadn't said itl" And Memory wrnng her hands and wept over them both and moaned: Ut was just a word-just 3 word-but they can't get it backl"
 The message was quickly sent and as quickly answered. The case brooked no delay. Margaret Thorne heard the familiar step in the hall, then in the room below. She knew what he was doing. How often she had seen him stoop over the grate with optspread hands, saying cheerily, as Beth crovgad and held out her hands; "Just minute, little Beth. Papa mustn't chill the Babyl'' The memory of the old-time tenderness, the old-time hap piness struck her with sudden pang. s'Never again; never againl" she whis- pered, as she bent over the child. | A moment later he came in. The women spoke tO him in the sympa- thetic key of the sick room, and the doctor silently wrung his hand. Mar garet looked up with a slight move ment of the head, but did not offer him her hand. He stood irresolute a moment, then took the chair facing her, the baby between them.
 ''Margaret,' 2 he said, lit was very good of you to send for me"
 Ut was only right" she said, her voice hardening in her efforts to steady it; ''she is your child, toO.'
 She had not meant to be harsh, but she knew it sounded so. Why must she always be misunderstood? He hall sighed. The message had come, then from no lingering tenderness or re turning softness, but from sterr sense of right. We'll, so be it..
 He made no effort at conversation and so they sat- the silence of deatI kupon them. It grew oppressive. The women, one by one, stole out of the room, and the doctor finally, with the feeling that even he intruded here muttered something about going into the library to lie down, telling them tC call him if there should be any change He went heavily down the stairs, anc the two were left alone with the dying 1 child. It was strange scene. Each held z baby hand; each with burden of grie, nnutterable bent over the little form andlwatched the hickering life go out Itand each shut up and double-locke6 and bolted the heart that the othel should not know what was therein They were but hands breadth apart but between them was a great gull fixed.
 John Thorne had not seen his chilC since that never-to-be-forgotten da, when he gave her and his home int Margaret's hands and went forth alone How he had longed for sight of thu baby face, for touch of the bab, hands, none but himself would eve. know. But he had been too proud tc ask to see her, and Margaret had said in bitter scorn: "It is the way of the sex A woman would never have forgotten her own child" And she had claspeC Beth passionately to her heart ant cried out: 1T aOiH De Juther and notAe both Co yOu, my baby, my poor, forsakel babyl''
 And she had steeled her heart agains her husband for Beth's sake and ha, kept her proudly out of his way, neve doubting for a moment that his ha, been shallow pretense of love com pared with her own.
 As he bent over her now, all his hear in his eyes, strange feeling of doub began tugging at her heart. Had h really loved the child like this? Un comfortable regrets took possession O her. Could she have misjudged him She might have sent Beth to see hin occasionally, it seemed to her now