CHAPTER XI. THE BURDEN OF LIFE.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 122, 3 October 1885, Page 6

CHAPTER XI. THE BURDEN OF LIFE.

For several weeks Candice lay fighting tho battle of life. Katie excluded the rest of the family from tho room entirely, for not for worlds would she have them hear what Candice said in her delirium. And to Katie the girl's ravings were a revelatfon, for the constant, never-varying refrain was of Mark, begging him to tell the home folks. Katie could not read, or she would have known that the piece of paper Bbc had taken from the girl's bosom was a marriage certificate, but thinking it was something of importance, she laid it eately away until the girl should recover, if she ever did. She understood now that Mark Maynard was to blame for the girl's sad plight, and if she could have red the papers she would have noticed Mark's advertisment for Candice to return to "Valley Earm, Bnt Katie, thinking she would do Candice a kindnesß by keeping silent, would not inform one single member of the Maynard family that the was with her. If Mark had appealed on the threshold of that cottage, the fiery Irish girl would have elainmed the door in his face. j Katie took complete charge of tho little flaxen -haired infant boy, with eyes of pansy blue and curling blonde hair like those of the young father who had never! gazed upon his baby boy, nor knew. that) Candice was a mother. * It was Katie who bought the fabrics and stitched away on garments for the pretty little infant that lay so contentedly at its unconscious mother's side. It was Katie who, when it cried with hunger, would i patiently drop by drop put milk in its tiny | mouth, and when it cried with pain would ] walk with it hour after hour until the little head dropped on her shoulder and it would , sleep ; and then with it tightly clasped to her she would sit for hours holding it in her kind, strong arms, while it slept the dreamless sleep of infancy. But at last Candice awoke once more with the light of reason shining in the winebrown eyes, and looked about her wonderingly, first at Katie, in the big arm-chair, with the sleeping infant in her arms. She could not understand it. How came she here, with Katie by her side, and whose baby could that be ? " Katie ! " ehe called, but her voice was weak and Katie not easily awakened; so with a little contented sigh Candice dropped off into a quiet, refreshing sleep. When Katie awoke with a little guilty start, Candice was once more aroused and crying : " Where am I, Katie ?" Her voice was weak and tremulous. " Hush, darlint ! you must not talk," Katie said, soothingly, noting that this was not delirium. "Shure 'tis Kate that's curio? for you ! Just lay there quiet like, and look at your baby ; " and Kate laid the infant by her side. "My baby?" and Candice gazed at ifc wonderingly, as it lay with its little rosebud face close to hers. Now she remembered it all : her flight, and the search for Katie. How did ahe come here ? She did not recollect finding her after searching ao long, but Candice was very weak, and in the effort to remember once more fell asleep, when Katie stole on tip-toe from the room. " The poor dear is better," she said to her sister-in-law, "and I'm that worn-out that if you will listen and see when she wakes, I'll be after taking a breath of fresh air." It was that very day Leta and Alda had seen her from the window. After that Candice'a recovery was quite rapid. She would He for hours at a time watching the baby sleeping by her side, and trace in its tiny features a resemblance to the young husband at Valley Farm. "My baby ! oh ! my baby 1" she would whisper to it, softly. *' What a heritage is yours !" and hot tears would chase each other down her pale young cheeks but nevertheless she regained her health rapidly, and in a few weeks waß able to sit in the big easy- chair, propped up by pillows. One morning Katie wheeled her to the window. Candice started in surprise. The last thing ehe could remember was that the weather was cold, bitterly cold, and she was wandering out on the streets, friendless and alone ; now the trees were full of summer's foliage, and the sunshine, glinting through the small window panes, bathed her pale face in its ruddy glow until it looked like that of some fair, pictured saint. Candice was changed j bo changed that if Mark had passed by at that moment he would not have recognised in thia^ palefaced, aad-eyed woman, his rose- lipped, j bonnie. Candice of a little over a year ago. Her eyes, roying over the bußy throngs i of people passing, saw ..them not ; her j thoughts were always of Mark, her young husband. She was thinkine of Win now' with a yearning tenderness. Bad he missed !

her in the least, or was 1 he .gl»d that she bad taken her preßenoe from out his We, although the shadow yet remained ? Candice's long auburn ourls had been out off close to her head during her sickness, and Katie had wrapped them in tissue paper and laid them away j now the young mother's head was oovered with boyish locks, crisp and curling, of deepest, darkest brown ; not one trace of reddish gold remained. And Candico, gazing at her changed appearance in the little mirror Katie brought her, was glad ; for even if she should meet the folka from home they would scarcely recognise this dark-haired, widowed mother as the girl they remembered. Katie was Candice's moat devoted attendand, but as the young mother regained her strength she noticed that this kind Irish family were poor ; the little Bhop barely afforded the commonest of livings, and Katie waa forced to tend«it more and more, while Pat worked as a day labourer whenever he could get work of any desonpfcion whatever to do. Candice saw with regret that every little delicacy was bought expressly for her, and that noae of the family would touch a morsel of it ; she thought with dismay that it was through her money was so scarce with the Maguires, The doctor's bills and the additional expense of herself and baby had exhausted their little Btore of money, and Candice saw one day that kind-hearted Mrs Maguire was making overalls at five cents a pair, a starvation price, for one of the neighbouring shops. She was strong enough now, and must do something. This oharitable family must not support her in idleness ; but what could Bhe do with an infant on her hands ?