The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1908-03-07

81 AUST go away" she decided.
Anita heard the announcement with
perfunctory regret.
VIII you do something for me
frst?" she added presently. Give
me one day of freedom. l don't know
where l shall go-to town probably
but | want to get away from this
house and everything about it for one
day. And this will be my last chance
until the baby is at school," she
added with faint sigh. Mary agreed
gladly.
Spring was pouring in at every
| window as Anita tied on her widow s
bonnet. The baby, lying on the bed,
seemed to find everything enchanting
and kept up steady flow of CONVEX
sation. When his mother paused be-
side him he broke into a wide smile,
so human, so full of cheer and good
| will that Anita laughed and kissed
him impulsively. Then, hearing Mary
| coming. she turned away. The tacit
| reproach of her friends tenderness
to the boy hardened her into perver-
sity. When he was held up at the
| window for last goodbye she hur-
ried away. pretending not to see.
The tulips were out in the squares
and the whole city seemed to be
smiling at the days perfection. 1t
| was impossible not to catch a little
of the exhilaration. Anita went about
with a new step, doing her small err
rands, and at noon felt herself deli
ciously hungry, forgotten sensa-
ton. When she had finished her lun-
cheon she fingered contentedly at her
table by the open window, staring at
the sidewalk throng.
81 wonder if he's asleep now" she
thought.
"And I was just about to write to
you!" said a voice at her elbow. One
of her husbands associates stood
looking down on her fresh mourning
with kind eyes. II have only three
minutes, but" He drew out the
chair opposite and plunged into his
subject. 1t was work for her. work
that would take all her thoughts and
her energies. and that she could do
we'll. The pay would not be high; it
was the chance to get away from her
present life that held her attention.
The door that she had believed shut
was held open to her, and she accept
ed eagerly.
When he had hurried away, she
sat facing the idea. wondering vague
ly why she was not more uplifted. It
was what she had longed for; why
should her heart be suddenly heavy?
With a responsible person to take
charge of the boy A woman passed
in the street below with baby
against her shoulder, and then all at
once Anita felt little head in her own
neck. Involuntarily she bent her
cheek down and her arms frightened,
as though they held something. A
warm tide of feeling crept up through
her, bringing quick tears to her eyes.
Why, she could not do it, give her
baby up absolutely, never see him all
day! Her little boy-how could she
shut him out? Why had she done it
for so long,. Oh, she did want him
she wanted him at that very mo-
ment! There was a new heaven and
new earth, and all the bitterness,
all that was cold and resentful, was
swept away in an overmastering rush
of tenderness. She knew now what
he meant, her little Arthur; in her
Utmost soul she had known it weeks
ago, but her rebellious spirit mad
And now it was hers, all hers.
She had meant to stay until even
ing, but she scrubbed note explain
ing that she could not accept the Of
fered work, and took the next train
home. The trip seemed hours long
to her eagerness, and she almost ran
from the cars to the house. He would
be asleep-little man! But she
wanted to be near him. She wanted,
too, to apologize to Mary. to go back
on her knees and gather up the friend
ship she had been willing to throw
aside. By the opening of the door
she had learned that she did not wish
to escape. The day had broken and
the shadows had fled away.
Mary met her in silence and drew
her into the living room. closing the
door, Anita dropped into a chair and
waited. not daring to speak. The
baby had been taken ill-very Ill.
There was a trained nurse with him,
| and the doctor had been there nearly
all day. Mary told it very gently and
courageous1y, but her hands trembled
visibly. Anita took the pins out of
| her veil and disentangled her bonnet.
What does the doctor say?" she
asked. Her voice sounded dry and
perfunctory, and Mary's blinded eyes
| could not 600 hor face The sfiApd