The Portion of Labor

oked at her anxiously and scrutinizingly when he ent

look towards the door as he seated himself before the fire and spr

e look?" as

her something besides Royal Sèvres?" Lyman Risley undoubtedly looked younger than Cynthia, but his manner even more than his looks gave him the appearance of

ot?" s

a table from which to eat it, and a knife with which to cut it, and a bed in which to sleep, and a stove and coal, and so on, and so on, and that the artistic accessories, suc

ch nothing could conquer. He had passed two-thirds of his life, metaphorically, at this woman's feet, and had formed a habit of admiration and lovership which no facts nor developments could ever alter. He was frowning, he replied with a certain sharpness, and yet he leaned towards her as he spoke, and his eyes followed her long, graceful lines and noted the clear delicacy of her features against the crimson background. "How the child looked-how the child looked; Cynthia, you do not realize what you did. You have not the faintest realization of what it means for a woman to keep a lost child hid

way, her face quivering slightly, more as if from a reflection of

door bell, and the child's aunt, a handsome, breathless kind of creature, came and ushered me into the best parlor, and went into the next room-the sitting-room-to call the others. I caught sight of enough women for

l? Why did you not tell them yourself? Why did you not, Lyman Risley? Why did you not tell the whole story rather than have that child blamed? Well, I will go myself. I will go this minute. They shall not blame that da

ia!" he said. "Didn't you hear t

ly crimped, and looped back from her fat, pink cheeks, a fine shell-and-gold comb surmounted her smooth French twist, and held her bonnet in place. She unfastened her cloak, and a diamond brooch at her throat caught the light and blazed red like a ruby. She was the wife of Norman Lloyd, the largest shoe-manufacturer in the place. There was between her and Cynthia a sort of relationship by marriage. Norman Lloyd's brother George had married Cynthia's sister, who had died ten years before, and of whose little son, Robert, Cynthia had had the charge. Now George, who was a lawyer in St. Louis, had married again. Mrs. Norman had sympathized openly with Cynthia when the child was taken from Cynthia at his fat

Lloyd was innocently unconscious of any reason for concealing the fact, and was fond, when driving out to take the air in her fine carriage, of pointing out to any stranger who happened to be with her the house where her grandfather cobbled shoes and laid the foundation of the family fortune. "That all came from that little shop of my grandfather," she would say, pointing proudly at Lloyd's great factory, which was not far from the old cottage. "Mr. Lloyd didn't have much of anything when I married him, but I had considerable, and Mr. Lloyd went into the factory, and he has been blessed, and the property has increased until it has come to this." Mrs. Lloyd's chief pride was in the very facts which others deprecated. When she considered the many-windowed pile of Lloyd's, and that her husband was the recognized head and authority over all those throngs of gr

sees and feels us with the soles of his patent-leathers," one of the turbulent spirits i

ng before she opened on the subject of the lost child. "Oh,

away?" he said. "Yes, we have;

y say they can't find out where she's been. She won't tell.

k, but a slight, almost imperceptible ge

you say,

ways, moreover, somewhat anxious as to the relations between Cynthia and Lyman Risley. She heard a deal of talk about it first and last; and while she had no word of unkind comment herself, yet she felt at times uneasy. "Folks do talk about Cynthia and Lyman Risley keeping company so long," she told her husband; "it's as much as twenty years. It does seem as if they ought to get married, don't you think so, Norman? Do you

a Risley ever taking his wife's name!" said Mrs. Lloyd. "Of course Cynthia would be willing to give up the money if she loved him, but I don't be

lt in addition to the present cause some which had gone before for her grievance. She addressed hersel

ice so strange that the other w

ing well, Cynth

thank you,"

I met her in front of Crosby's one day last summer. And she was so sweet-looking I stopped and spoke to her-I couldn't help it. She had beautiful eyes, and the softest light curls, and she was dressed so pretty, and the flowers on her hat were nice. The embroidery on her dress was very fine, too. Usually, you know, those people don't care about the finene

e was snubbed, though not seeing how nor why, and again she rebelled with that soft and g

ppose she was, C

kept her, she was such a pretty child," said Cynthia, defiantl

as bad enough to do that, she couldn't have given her up at all, she was such a beautiful child." Mrs. Norman Lloyd had no children of her own, and was given to gazing with eyes of gentle envy at pretty, rosy little girls, frilled with wh

, that being the custom among the sisters in her church. "Well," said she, "I am thankful she is found, anyway; I couldn't have slept a wink that night i

emingly no appreciation of it, and repeated her declaration which Mrs. Lloyd's coming had interrupted: "Lyman, I am g

to consider that they love the child-possibly better than you can-and would not in the na

oy of finding her is over," said Cynthia. "I will go

t her extraordinary strength of will. They took me out in the sitting-room, and there was a wild flurry of feminine skirts before me. I had previously overheard myself announced as Lawyer Risley by the aunt, and the response from various voices that they were 'goin' if he was comin' out in the sittin'-room.' It always made them nervous to see lawyers. Well, I followed the parents and the grandmother and the aunt out. I dared not refuse when they suggested it, and I hoped desperately that the child would not remember me from that one scared glance she gave at me this mo

put his cigar back between his lips; Cynthia wa

and its consequences would react not upon yourself only, but-upon others, were you to confess the truth to them," he said after a little. "You mus

doll continued to ple

to promise," said her

to let me know the minute you hear that they a

n him. "Lyman," said she, "do you th

or her?" he re

must be poor: the father works in

as you in yours; that they have possessions which entirely meet their needs and their ?sthetic longings; that not only does Andrew Brewster earn exceedingly good wages in the shop, and is able to provide plenty of nourishing food and good clothes, but even by-and-by, if he prospers and is prudent, something rather extra in the way of education-perhaps a piano. I would have you know that there is a Rogers group on a little marble-topped table in the front window, and a table in the side window with a worked spread, on which reposes a red plush photograph album; that there is also a set of fine parlor furniture, with various devices in the way of silken and lace scarfs over the corners and backs of the chairs and sofa, and that there is a tapestry carpet; that in the sitting-room is a fine cr

face looked as still as i

did not dream you were so broken up over losin

r his cigar. He seemed suddenly to realize in this woman whom he loved something anomalous, yet lovely-a beauty, as it were, o

had never seen before, and have no love and pity fo

monstrous imperfection of her,