ht.

"Sister Eliza has an uncommon light hand with babies and that pore
young thing'll be hard pushed to pay the doctor, let alone a nurse."

These essentially feminine details regarding the talents of Sister
Eliza, did not especially interest Smith, who continued his favorite
occupation--or rather, joint occupations, of whittling and
expectorating. Nevertheless, the letter to Sister Eliza was written,
and not a minute sooner than was necessary; for, the little soul that
was to bring with it forgetfulness for all the agony through which its
mother had lived during that awful year, came very soon after the
arrival of Sister Eliza.

Anna had felt in those days of waiting that she could never again be
happy; that for her "finis" had been written by the fates. But, as she
lay with the dark-haired baby on her breast, she found herself planning
for the little girl's future; even happy in the building of those
heavenly air-castles that young mothers never weary of building. She
felt the necessity of growing strong so that she could work early and
late, for baby must have everything, even if mother went without.
Sometimes a fleeting likeness to Sanderson would flit across the
child's face, and a spasm of pain would clutch at Anna's heart, but she
would forget it next moment in one of baby's most heavenly smiles.

She could think of him now without a shudder; even a lingering remnant
of tenderness would flare up in her heart when she remembered he was
the baby's father. Perhaps he would see the child sometime, and her
sweet baby ways would plead to him more eloquently than could all her
words to right the wrong he had done, and so the days slipped by and
the little mother was happy, after the long drawn out days of waiting
and misery. She would sing the baby to sleep in her low contralto
voice, and feel that it mattered not whether the world smiled or
frowned on her, so long as baby approved.

But this blessed state of affairs was not long to continue. Anna, as
she grew stronger, felt the necessity of seeking employment, but to
this the baby proved a formidable obstacle. No one would give a young
woman, hampered with a child, work. She would come back to the baby at
night worn out in mind and body, after a day of fruitless searching.
These long trips of the little mother, with the consequent long absence
and exhaustion on her return, did not improve the little one's health,
and almost before Anna realized it was ail