Man and Maid

"How dare you make this noise"?--I said rudely--"do you not know that I

have given orders for complete quiet"--.

She rose, holding the child with the greatest dignity--The picture she

made could be in the Sistine Chapel.

"I beg your pardon" she said in a voice which was not quite steady--"I

did not know you had returned, and Madame Bizot asked me to hold little

Augustine while she went to the next floor--it shall not occur again!"

I longed to stay and gaze at them both--I would have liked to have

touched the baby's queer little fat fingers--I would have liked--Oh--I

know not what--And all the time Miss Sharp held the child protectively,

as though something evil would come from me and harm it.--Then she

turned and carried it out of the room--and I went back into my

sitting-room and flung myself down in my chair--.

What had I done--Beast--brute--What had I done?

And will she never come back again?--and will life be emptier than

ever--?

I could kill myself--.

* * * * *

It shall not be only Suzette but six others for supper to-night--.

Five a.m.--The dawn is here and it is not the rare sound of an August

pigeon that I am listening to, but the tender cooing of a woman and a

child--God, how can I get it out of my ears.