The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-06-14
CHAPTER 72

CHATTER 1S HIN every way I had been happier
 since Manville's aunt had gone,
 but especially had it been so as regarded the time 1 spent with Anna. I took a wicked sort of delight in rock ing her to my hearts content, smuggling her in my arms. telling her little fairy stories, or playing dolls with with her on the floor. Hour after hour l spent in the nursery with her, no fear in my heart that Mrs HolbrOok's stern face would appear in the door to reprlmand me or order me stop spelling my child. I knew l was disObeying Manville to cuddle her as I did, but l didn't care. She was my baby. l had a right to play with her as I wanted or to rock her if chose. After Martha had de- parted for her vacation l felt even more free to Slo as 1 wished. I felt for the first time since Anna was born that no one was spying on me, that there was no one to interfere.
 Often June ran in for an hour or two. Sometimes she would stay for luncheon. We would have Anna in her high chair between us, and June wasn't far wrong together. I seemed to have thrown off years HI lHe lWO
 Isn't it just lovely" said one day as we sat at luncheon.
 "What is too lovely:" asked June.
 "This! Anna, you and me. It is heaven to me, June, after the way had to sneak and hide everything l did for my baby. would rather be as poor as we were at home, never have anything but old clothes the rest of my I.n ko- hnunn sanh m baby as other people do." June knew all about my life at home before l married Manville, so l could talk freely to her.
 MT Hyde's aunt is not coming back, then?" June never called my husband Manville, although I always called Al fred by his first name. No one except his aunt and Ruth Markham ever call ed him anything but MT. Hyde. Some way it would have seemed like taking liberties with him.
 ii am-not-sure," said, slowly. "Manville said when she left that she was coming back to stay always. A shiver ran over me just to talk of 1t. But things have happened since she left. I have asserted myself in one or two ways, June, and while it hasn't accomplished much as far as changing things goes, it has made me feel like A different person. 1 wish l could tell you more-but June, if I did some thing I had to do I wouldn't want you to be in a position to answer questions You and Alfred have been too good to me-"
 "Susan-you don't mean-Lawson McKee-that you are
 No, June, nothing like that" l an swered, unable to quite keep the long ing from my voice. I had often thought how nice it would be to live with some one like Lawson, some one who thought me right. and what l did perfect 1 think that is often the way with neglected wives. It isn't love SO much they feel for the other man. as it is a feeling he would give them all they have missed of attention and con sideration.
 "Oh, am so glad. l have been afraid-sometimes. Lawson IS captl- vating chap. And you have been so apologetic tone, as if 1 had considered Lawson she would find an excuse for me
 II have Anna, you know, June"
 "Yes-and she is almost recompense enough for anything
 Almost But, June, isn't it odd that no matter how much one loves a child it never quite takes the place of the love we give a man-Our husbands-or, if they compel us, another! No one could doubt my love, my devotion to Anna. yet she could not prevent my feeling utterly miserable and unhappy at times, although she has deterred me when 1 felt like doing something deS- perate. couldn't leave her." stopped. had said more than 1 meant to-. The look of horror on June's face reminded me that had never con fided to her the temptation often had had to do away with myself during Aunt Cynthia's visit.
 "Susan-you wouldn't !"-she stared wide-eyed at me.
 No. June; I couldn't because of Anna"
 "You poor child never dreamed it was as bad as that" She was frankly wipnX her eyes.
 Tt AQs as bad as it could be, June.