Australian Tales - Setis

called to upbraid her, as some of her neighbours had done not an hour
before, while they professed to condole with her. There lay the poor
young creature almost destitute of common necessaries, and oppressed
with grief indescribable; and as I gazed at her I could not but contrast her
deplorable condition with a scene fresh in my memory — that of a happy
young wife, with her first-born on her bosom, and every comfort at her
command; cheered by the caresses of her loving husband, and the
congratulations of surrounding friends, and her heart bounding with joy
and pride while fondling her precious little new-born treasure, which
every one was praising.
But I must hasten on with my dismal story. In a few days Mrs. May
died of a broken heart, and before poor Mary could rise from her
wearisome couch, she had the anguish of seeing her only parent's body
borne away to the grave, and the additional pang of feeling that she had
been the cause of her beloved mother's untimely death, and the months of
misery that had preceded it.
I should have mentioned before, that directly Mrs. May had discovered
her daughter's critical state, she made a personal appeal to Lionel Wolfe's
father and mother to use their influence and induce their son to do justice
to her daughter, and marry her, as he had solemnly promised to do. But
the arrogant old pair would not listen to the end of her tearful address;
she was moreover told by Wolfe's prudish sisters, that she and her
brazen-faced daughter had designedly entrapped their brother to the
disgrace of his family. They also refused the smallest assistance, and
ignored Mrs. May's claim upon them in any shape; then peremptorily
ordering her not to enter the gates of Wolfden again, they turned from
her in disdain, and left the old lady to retrace her weary way home with
her heart stricken by a sorrow which can only be comprehended by those
whose domestic hearth has been similarly desolated.
How Mary May struggled on for the next two years was often a matter
of speculation for those who feast upon scandal, and there were many
such moral pests in Woollaburra. Several respectable residents, however,
could testify that Mary lived a virtuous life during that period. She
worked to support herself and infant, and her scanty earnings were
supplemented by voluntary donations from friends who carefully
watched over her. She lodged with a worthy old couple in the outskirts of
the town, and kept very secluded; seldom going beyond the garden which
surrounded her humble domicile.
Her infant died when about two years old. Doubtless it was a merciful
dispensation of Providence in removing it beyond the influence of a
frowning world, and taking it to Heaven; but it was a terrible loss to poor
Mary. She felt it hard to part with her baby, though it had caused her
such crushing trouble. It seemed the only tie she had to life; it was her
constant companion, and the only creature in the world that she had to