Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 272: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ms @o © ww we FETTERED BY FREEDOM. BY ISABEL J. ROBERTS. The outcome of a matrimonial quarrel, in which is set forth the praiseworthy if futile efforts of loving friends to heal the scar, and the part played by chance in the process. OUR rooms opened on a small bal- cony that overlooked a gray stretch of beach with its white border of breaking surf and the vast sea be- yond. A tall pine grew close to the wall and threw its aromatic branches half across the balcony. Amy pushed her chair among the plumey green and said that she felt like a bird on a bough, laughing and look- ing at Elsa with an air of gentle solici- tude. “ We are particularly fortunate in getting these rooms. We have all the freedom of hotel life and yet can be as secluded as if we were at home,” [ said, also looking at Elsa. But Elsa’s eyes were on the sea, an evasive sadness in their fixed gaze. Katrina, the rosy, white capped nurse, came presently with her small charge fresh from her bath and dainty as a fairy in her soft white embroid- eries. Elsa put out her hand for her little daughter and said, coaxingly, “ Stay with mamma a little while. I will show you a beautiful picture book.” “No, no; I want ’Rina,” the child cried, and to avoid the threatened out- burst, Elsa let her baby girl slip fren her detaining arm and run to her nurse. “ IT wonder if my child and I will ever become acquainted. We have been kept apart too long. Sometimes I think I will send Katrina away and take full charge of her myself. What do you think of it, mother?” Knowing so well the spasmodic character of her energy I replied, “ I should keep Katrina, if I were you. But try to see more of Polly than you do. Why not go down on the beach with her now? It would be a begin- ning,” - Elsa shrugged her shoulders. “ It will do tomorrow. I don’t feel equal to making sand pies today.” Elsa had made a brilliant marriage, every one said; and a happy one, even her own family believed. I had always liked Percy Armitage. He was open, generous, chivalrous, always making his wife feel, despite his high social position, that she had been very good to marry him. Three or four years had gone by happily and then came the disastrous summer at Newport. What those months were to Elsa I never knew, for her letters were brief, impersonal things, and she never re- ferred to that time afterward. The season ended, the fall passed into win- ter, and still Elsa prolonged her stay at the seashore. When she came back she came alone —a divorced woman. It was not until then that I understood that her mo- tive in remaining so long at the sea was to establish the statutory resi- dence necessary to accomplish her purpose. There had been no scandal. The whole matter had been enveloped in mystery. Percy had made no defense and she had obtained her decree of di- vorce .by default. That is absolutely all that I knew about the catastrophe which had sepa- rated the wife and husband and brought back my daughter, my first born, to me. EOMRIC OOOkKS CO