A Modern Madonna

by Caroline Abbot Stanley

"He certainly does not know," said Margaret sharply. "How did you happen to be talking to him about it?"

"I jes' accidently mentioned that you was layin' off to take Philip as soon as the bill passed, and he 'low the bill didn't have no bearin' on the case. He say it can't ondo a thing that was done years ago."

Margaret felt that she had received a blow. A sudden recollection of Senator Black's words flashed upon her and she grew so white that Mammy Cely prudently refrained from any more discussion of the subject. She might have told her how in the goodness of her heart she had gone to Mr. De Jarnette, hoping to stir pity in his breast, and said, "Marse Richard, do you reckon that po' chile gwineter live ef this here bill givin' her Philip don't pass?" and how he had answered her in shocked amazement, "Giving her Philip! Great heavens, you don't tell me she is expecting that?"

He really looked so concerned that it seemed to Mammy Cely as if the emotion she had been trying to fan into flame flared up for a moment, but it and her hope went out together as he added coldly, "If that is what she is working for, she might as well give it up. That bill couldn't undo what was done years ago." She did not tell Margaret all this, however, contenting herself with repeating, "No 'm, he say it don't have no bearin' on the case."

"It is false!" cried Margaret, with vehement iteration. "He'll find that it will have some bearing on the case before we are through."

Her anger sustained her until she reached the station. Then when she had kissed Philip good-bye and settled back weakly in her seat, a horrible sinking of soul came over her. What if it were true? Looking out at the shivering trees and the leaden sky impassively, she was telling herself in a transport of feeling and of fear that it was not true! It couldn't be true!

But thinking of Senator Black's strange look of pity and his stranger words, "I wish this bill could do as much for you, Mrs. De Jarnette, as you can do for it," doubt began to clutch at her heart. Was this what he meant? Going over her interviews with this one and that in these weeks it seemed to her that she could recall traces of compassion in their words, their looks, as they talked with her. She had thought then it was pity for her wrongs. Was it for her blindness?... Why had nobody told her? Had she no friend that it must be left for her enemy to enlighten her? Why had they let her go on working for this thing as though her soul's salvation had depended upon it—only to find out when all was done, that it was but an abstract law—something that would be useful to humanity perhaps, but left her desolate as before.... Humanity! What was humanity to a mother robbed?

Shame smote her then. She heard the voice of Mrs. Greuze saying of a fellow worker: "She has a heart big enough to take in the world and all its woes." But then Mrs. Belden was childless. Perhaps God had given her empty hands that she might work for weak ones too weighted down with cares to help themselves. Well! He had emptied her arms too. Was it thus that the great heart of humanity was brought to throb in unison?

She felt suddenly strengthless as if some spring of life were broken.... How she had labored for this thing, sparing not herself in any way, giving time and strength and travail of soul to the furtherance of this bill. And to what purpose? Only an hour ago she was planning what she would say to Senator Blanton when she went to see him. She had been so successful that she was eager to try her powers of persuasion again. It was a joy to work in a great cause like this. Now the zest had faded out of life as the color out of an evening cloud. Everything was stale, flat and unprofitable. "What profit hath a man of all his labor which he taketh under the sun?" came suddenly to her mind with a force never felt before. Who was it said that?... Oh, yes, the Wise Man of course. She had often heard Mrs. Pennybacker quote the words. Well! he was wise, she told herself scornfully. There was no profit. And the Wise Man had found it out. She wondered weakly, feeling very tired all at once, if he had discovered it before he had worn himself out.

The train moved steadily on. The scene constantly shifted, but she did not see.