The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1922-11-17
New Revelations of
a Wife
What Madge Dreaded, Hoped and Feared
as She Held LiiIian's Child in
BY ADELE GARRISON


as She Held LjIIian's Child in
Her Arms.
Miss Sonnet! Hurry
The toned call in the physicians
voice came from old Mrs. Morton's room.
Katherine was on her feet at the first
word. At the last one she was almost at
the door, throwing a quick command
| over her shoulder at me.
Send Lillian up. You'd better stay
with Marion
ran down the stairs noiselessly and
across Lllian's wonderful scarlet and
white living-room to the rose-hung
boudoir where had left the child
asleep in her mothers arms. AS I en-
tered, on tiptoe, Lillian stirred slight
ly.
What is it?' she whispered.
I bent over her and explained kath-
crimes message in a low monotone
which l am fortunate in being able to
! use. have found it to be far less dis
turbing to a sick person than whisper.
And there is little or no danger of
awakening a sleeping person with its
use.
Help me get up" she whispered.
Marion was lying cuddled close to her
T mother in such fashion that there was
great danger Of awakening her If the
mothers arms were withdrawn. But l
comprehended instantly what Lillian
wanted me to do. She wished me to
substitute my arms for hers, to cuddle
the child in the same fashion, so that
the little thing even in sleep should not
, miss her.
With infinite pains we made the sub
stitution, and befoze Lillian left she
looked down at us with B. gaze l shall
always remember. There was great
love for her child in it, but there was
something else, comprehension, aye!
and compassion also for me.
She did not kiss either Of US. for both
she and I feared a single awkward
movement might awaken the sleeping
child. But the long look she gave US
was a caress and benediction.
In another moment even the frou frou
of her skirts had grown indistinct, yet
another. and I could hear no sound in
all the house save the child's soft, even
respirations and my own rather hurried
breathing.
And then the waters of Marah closed
over me.
For Marion, still restless. even in her
sleep threw one little bare arm around
my neck, cuddling her tiny hand into
my hair.
Mamma, mamma" she murmured
sleepily, and then was off into slumber-
land again.
And I, quivering with the old, old,
longing that never would be stilled, lay
staring out into the long years in front
Of me, years which might never be
blessed to me with the touch Of childish
fingers.
The Mother AccoIade.
With my arms strained around the
soft, childish figure of my friends lit
tie daughter I tried, foolishly enough to
$AaA
really my own child in my arms. that I
too. had been given that accolade OF
woman's life-motherhood.
But to no avail. Little Marion, dear
to me beloved, was still my friends
child, not mine. And I found that it
was torture to pretend
Another thought, insidous, black,
crept into my mind. Even If Dicky, al
ways so prejudiced against children,
should change his feelings upon the sub
ject, would I now want to bring into the
world the child Of a Stacker?
It was a bitter thought, an awful
thought, but as it crept upbidden into
my mind, so 1t remained, even against
my protest. Because he was just old
enough to escape CONSUMPTION. Dicky
stood back and had seen all his fellows
march away to the great war.
Is Madge Thankful?
Alfred Durkee was out one OF those
who had gone. Even Frank Lester, the
man I liked least. the man l had al
ways characterized as a "bounder"
was in the aviation corps, while his wife
and child were with her people, for
tunately possessed of enough means for
comfort while he was away.
Only Harry Underwood and Dicky
remained Of the old, merry crowd. Har-
~ Underwood was lite better than q
traitor, if he wasn't actually a con-
spirator against his country, while nv
husband-what was the reason that kept
him puttering around illustrating an
aviation serial when his comrades were
giving life and everything that makes
life worth living to the cause of world
freedom?
For the first time felt thankful that
I had no child Better to have empty
arms all my life than some day to look
into my childs face and to find there
contempt for its father.