The Aberdeen Democrat. (Aberdeen, South Dakota) 1???-1909, 1904-06-17

- tSoSlttS WILL ILS llllie LuluS III DSI
arms.
Helen took her from the nurse. "You
may CO." she said. Il will send for you
presently"
The feeling of a baby in the arms
the soft, warm, helpless bundle-no
woman can Withstand the mysterious
influence of this appeal. Helen re-
sponded to it with all the ardor Of her
impulsive nature. Her brother watched
her as she stood looking down at tbs
child with tears in her eyes. Then he
turned away to the window.
DO you want her, Helen?" he asked,
very low.
Wan her? OF course | do" she cried
~passionately. Il feel as if she were
mine already. Oh, Jim, you need not
give her up, you know-she will be al
ways yours; but you will let me have
her to take care of and keep for you.
We will be SO tender of her, you and L
we will never let her miss her mothers
love-"
He did not reply for a moment. Then
he spoke again, with something of an
effort, and DULY, his face still averted.
Mary wants her, too?" be said.
Helen's heart gave a great leap, indig-
lant, apprehensive, defiant.
"Oh, JIM" she said; all her protest
was in the words and in her voice as
she spoke them. 1t was no use to argue
with Jim. Gentle as he was argument
had always made him obstinate. he
would do as he chose. To ignore he
question-not to admit that there was
a question-that was the best way with
him. But even while she stood there
with the child in her arms, and the ap-
peal still in her face, Mary entered he
room.
She looked quickly, comprehendlngly
at Helen and Jim, at the child in the
other woman's arms. Then she spoke
without prelude, her voio1 quiet, yet
singularly breathless.
I'VE have no children" she said. we
have never had a child, John and |. We
have always wanted one. And this is
Katherine, my only sisters child. 1t
would be like my own to me-What my
own might have been
but IL is Jim's child" Helen broke
in, "and Jim is my brother, | have IL
little daughter of my own, too, n
she will be a sister to this one. They
will be brought up together In Jim S
home. No one could be what | can -
Jim'3 child"
Unconsciously she pressed the little
creature closer as she spoke, and she
broke into a sudden cry. The dull
quiet of Jim's face changed and gave
way. His hand clenched itself at his
side.
Katherine he said, with a groan.
poor little Katherine!"
His voice broke; and Helen, hearing
that and seeing in his face what she
had not seen there before, the despair
ing anguish of a strong man whose
grief forces itself through the. iron
bands of his sel%f-control, forgot all
else but him.
She laid the baby down hastily upon
the sofa beside her, and ran to him.
"Oh!" putting her hands on his arm
and laying her cheek upon it.
But Mary went swiftly and stealth
lily to the sofa and gathered the baby
in her arms. She hushed it's wbimper-
ing cry, lulled and fondled and talked
to it with low murmurs and careeses of
tenderness. Shetwas still hanging over
the little creature absorbed and I'M
conscious of the others, when Jim left
his sister and crossed the room to her.
She, looked up and started, that eX-
preston still upon her face. Give her
to mel" said the child's father, almost
roughly. And, taking it in his arms,
he carried it quickly out of the room.
1T is for him to decide" said Mary,
simply! after a little pause.
yes" Helen assented. She was con-
tent to hold her piece after that. 1t
was for jim to decide, and she had lit
tie fear as to the result. :
The wears low voice, the stately
phrases OF the baptisr9al service,
sounded solemnly in the silence.
Helen bowed her head, and could not
see for tears. There was a little stir
among the Others. The child's father,
very white and quiet, had taken her
from the nurse and given her himself
into the arms of the clergyman. He
was an OLD man, dry and lifeless as a
withered leaf, but there was a tremoc
in his voice, as he gave the child back
to her father. He took her, and with
bowed head went quickly towards his
s~ister-in-law, to Mary, and laying the
child in her arms, stood there beside
her until the last praysf had been said,
and the last Amen had fallen with
inexpressible melancholy and pathos
upon the dsepened hush.
In the evening when Jim and his
sister were left alone together al last
for a moment in the library, he went
over to Helen BY the fire, and took her
hand.
AYou are disappointed. Helenga ne
asked.
She could not trust herself to speak.
but stood looking down in q silence
that was all too eloquent to the broth
er who understood her SO we'll.
.Yon must forgive me, dear he
said. 1T was hard, Helen. Heaven
fknnws-htit there was lust one thin,