Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1902-07-10

Continued.

Then the rector grew more con-
fidential with me- He talked great
deal about Sir Rudolph and Lady Gull
more They were two Of the pleas
ATTEST people he had ever met, he
said, and he deeply deplored the ter
rible estrangement between them.
Like every one else who knew them,
he wondered greatly what had caused
it. He was a true friend of theirs,
and, knowing that, we talked always
in the hope that we might be able to
do something. But, after time, saw
that it was impracticable; there was
nothing to be done.
The rector never tired of talking to
me about his little child. I went to
see him at the Rectory. On my re-
turn | told Lady Culmore all about his
sweet baby ways.
do ask him here, Lady Culmore,"
I said. ''You cannot think how the
presence of a child brightens the
house. These rooms would be very
different with child and laughing, or
even crying in them. Do ask him,
Lady GILMORE" I urged; 81 am sure
it would cheer and amuse you"
She grew very pale-so pale that
thought she would swoon.
my dear, it would simply kill me"
she replied
'How could the visit of a sweet little
boy like little Willie hurt your" I
asked in some SurnriSa
She made no answer to the question,
and I continued
"It would please Sir Rudolph, I am
sure"
at would not" she cried; ''you are
quite mistaken. 1t would" Then she
stopped abruptly. mo, Miss Forster;
II you wish me well, never let any
children come to Ullamere."
''Do you not like children?" asked.
Eyes" she answered, YEARLY. 81
suppose it is part of the nature of all
women to love them"
'1 am not quite sure of that, Lady
GILMORE" I answered. 81 have seen
and known women who did not like
children at all"
90 L rellngulSned my 1dea.
I was with Sir Rudolph and Lady
Culmore another day, when the rector
came to ask their help. It was for a
poor woman whose child was very ill
and the rector dwelt much on the
chi1d's sufferings.
ut seems to me such an awful
thing" he said, 'for a little child to
die of want"
He did not perceive, as I did, how
the expression of both his listeners
faces changed, Sir Rudolph's growing
stony and cold, Lady Julmore's wear.
ing that terribly embarrassed air that
came over her at times. I fastened to
speak, hoping that I should turn the
tide of conversation.
81 do not think it worse for a child
to die of want than for a grown-up per.
son so to die"
The rector shook his head.
L have theory of my own about
the death of infants" he said
Thinking to divert the conversation
from what might be a dangerous chan.
mel. l said quickly
what is your theory, Mr. Thorn
leigh?"
ut is this, Miss Forster. In the case
OF groWn-up men and women you know
the extent of their capabilities-you
know exactly what they are; they may
be clever, they may be the reverse
But, if an infant dies, you do not know
what loss the world sustains; he may
be an embroyo Milton or Shakespeare
So the death of a child. it seems to
me, is much sadder that that of a
grown-up person"
There was something certainly in
this view of the case; and | was SO
much interested in it that for a few
moments | forgot Lady Culmore. A
deep sigh drew my attention to her. ]
saw her turn away from us with look
of such intense anguish on her face as
| had never seen on human face be,
fore. while Sir Rudolph had grown
white as death.
| FASTENED to say that this was a
new idea to me, that I had always
thought adult life be more valuable:
eA1SA USNSo .IilS ISCIOI SOlut lule QuSS-
ton about the bell-ringers, and Sir
Rudolph made his escape Lady Gull
more seemed to breathe more freely
after he had gone, and the rector re-
ceiyed all he desired. Thinking over
one incident after another, it seemed
clear to me that, whatever was the
secret, the tragedy, the mystery of
Lady Culmore's life, it was connected
with a little child.