The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-06-28

4
keep from following in his steps. from ap-
| proachAI.g any nearer to the edge of the
| gulf In which he wallowed But after her
mothers death she had not a single friend
1 to appeal to, and the baby was born and
| from want of food and because of con-
| slant anxiety, Flavia's health gave, way
| and then she became nervous and hyster-
| ical, and the clear, sharp dividing lines
| between right and wrong became less
sharp and less distinctly apart, until they
| seemed to her to have merged one into the
| other. And one day, at Lascelless insti-
| cation, she stole a watch from a woman
| who standing by her side in the crowd
| She did it so expeditiously and so skillfully
| that she was never suspected. She her
| self had a sweet, innocent, appealing sort
of face and she was always particularly
| neat in her apparel and had quiet almost
| ladylike look about her.
This was her first theft. but it was fol-
| lowed by others, and she had never been
| suspected, and no policeman had ever
| looked meaningly into her face. Lascelles
also had hitherto escaped detection. When
| he and his wife found Paris too hot for
| them they came to London and by means
| of false characters, and aided by Lascelles's
pals, Flavia, who was very clever, a splen-
did linguist and we'll up in shorthand and
| typewriting. obtained a post in James Herr
| OTIS office No one laughed louder and long
| er over this than did Andre Lascelles but
| Flavia did not laugh, and from the moment
she took the post she turned over new
leaf, as she expressed it, She had told her
| husband that she could not repay the past,
but in the future she meant to live honest.
She had told him this after a bad illness,
during which she had been delirious, and
| in which she had been given to understand
that her baby had died and was buried. 1t
was when she came to herself again, and
was told that the little cooling voice and
the sweet, slow smile on the tiny face could
| never be hers again, that she made this
VOW.
God took baby away because I was so
bad" she thought God didn't want baby
to grow up thief. 1 have got a situation
now and will live honest In the future"
AT first things went we'll after a fashion,
and then one evening as Flavia was on her
way home a sudden temptation was pre-
sented to her. She and woman, who was
dressed respectfully and looked like lady's
maid, shared third-class compartment to-
gether. Just as they got to ST. James's Park
the woman uttered an exclamation, found
that she had gone station too far, and
hurried from the train, leaving a little box
in the rack above her head. Flavia saw the
box, and lad she been perfectly honest
woman she would have called out. But she
did not. A queer, tingiine sensation took
possession of her; she felt that she could
not keep her hands off the treasure. The
woman was gone into the darkness, the
train moved out of the station. In an in
4 III rItr
under her cloak, AMI when they got to
South Kensington hastily left the carriage.
Her own ticket was for Victoria, but no
one noticed that. She went home by cir
cuitous route and no ore observed that she
was holding a box under her cloak. A
strange mixture of pleasure and alarm filled
her. When she got UP to her fiat he put
the small wooden box into an old handbook
and pushed it under the bed, and tried to
forget it. She had not even opened it. 1t
was strapped with a strong leather strap,
and she did not once loosen tina buckle. She
was a thief once more. She felt both bad
and happy.
The next day nothing happened, but the
day after there came the hue and cry-the
entrance of the red-faced gentleman into
Heriot's Office, the advertisement which
Flavia herself had to write out. Tomorrow
all the world would know that the little
box which acknowledgements was lost.
She, who had promised on the death of her
child never to thieve again, had committed
theft, and Immediately afterwards she had
heard that the child was alive. She sat
cold and sick and trembling all night, but
in the morning she reused herself.
"I must get rid of the box whatever hap
pens" she thought. IF only Andre had
been content with fifty pounds, could have
made up story of how found 1T. and I
could have taken it this very morning to
James Heriot's office and have got the
money. But If fifty pounds is worse than
useless, Andre must have the two hundred,
for 1 will, must have baby back again."
She tidied herself, changed her dress, and
prepared her frugal breakfast. 1t almost
choked her to eat 1t, but that did not mat
ter. She then put on her cloak, put the
box again under it and ran down stairs.
She felt quite lost. utterly undone, but the
awful starved feeling in her heart must be
fed at any cost.
Mrs. Lawson saw her as she approached
the ground floor. She was standing inside
her doorway holding a letter in her hand.
''This came this morning. she said. land
it's for you. told the postman I'd save
him the trouble of going up so many stairs.
You take it; 1t looks like the hand of a
lady. don't know what's in it,
/ Flavia took the letter between her finger
and thumb. She looked at 1t apprehensive-
| ly. No one ever wrote to her. Her face
turned very white.
Come in, honey. and rest by my fire.
You look cold and chilled, and starved.
You always do when that brute of hus-
! band Of yours-(youll forgive me speaking
of him in that way, dear)-comes to see
you. He was lurking round till ever so late
last night. He was after no good. If were
you ia make him feel that he had no call to
; interfere with you.'
{ 81 can't help it, Mrs. Lawson. When
( you are married you know, you can't cut
) | your husband adrift, can your
"Ah!" said Mrs. Lawson, "I wish to
: heaven you had child of your own.
$50 / had
t ITO be sure, dear. All! there are tears