The Argosy — page 248: what you’re looking at

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

My Saturdays. 231 heavy for you.” She did not seem to hear, but tried to go on with her walk. “Give him to me,” I said very distinctly. “No,” she answered, “‘I must warm him.” ‘“‘ He is cold because he is out of bed,” I said. ‘‘Come and put him back into his warm bed.” “Put him to bed ———” she repeated vaguely. ‘Yes; Ill put him to bed.” ' Come, then.” And with my hand on her arm, I drew her out of the room, and guided her upstairs to the side of the cot out of which she had taken him. I told her again to put him to bed, and she laid the poor little thing back to rest. Then she tucked it up carefully, and stooped and kissed it. *‘Good-night, Joso. Joso is quite warm now.” “Ves,” I said, the tears coming beyond my controlling; ‘‘he will never be cold any more. Come away, and don’t wake him.” She came away quite docilely, and I locked the door, and led her back to her own room. That was her last sight of little Tim. For seven days he had been a part of her life, and now she was to see him no more on this side of the great mystery into which he had passed. Like a storm-beaten bird, he had flown to her from the outer cold and darkness, and folded his wet and weary wings, and nestled into her bosom; but now he had spread them again for flight into brighter sunshine and purer air. Lena was not with us when we-laid him to sleep in a quiet corner of Tamston churchyard. She had been thoroughly chilled in her wanderings that night, and worn out as she was with her week of excited, unresting nursing, the effects were serious. She had an attack of influenza of the worst sort, which kept her a prisoner to her room for days, and left her as weak as a baby. It was a very good thing, I think. Bodily weakness and discomfort stifled mental pain; illness made a gap, after which she could make a fresh be- ginning ; and all that had happened softened and opened her heart. When she was recovering, we had many long talks, and grew to love each other very dearly. Lena came to think without bitterness of the failure of her first attempt at atonement, and to form a fairer and more unselfish purpose. She would not again try to win happi- ness, but only to give comfort. Little Tim had realised to her that there were hundreds of little ones so living and suffering, far more lonely and miserable than ever he had been whom she had so long and fruitlessly mourned. Her heart yearned over them: she had learnt to love again, and now she longed to gather in, and tend and love all who were destitute and uncared-for. She had not enough means to do more independently than she had proposed to do by adopting little Tim, and she shrank from making such an attempt again. After much consideration, she decided to go into training at GOnlGaoOoks