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CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
ELIENE ENVIES MARGIE
(Copyright, 1915, by the Newspaper Enterprise Association)
Eliene was pale as she lay on her
lace trimmed pillows. Even the pink
silk coverlet drawn closely up to her
chin did not impart a glow to her
cheeks, but I have never seen her
look so beautiful.
"Have you seen her?" she asked.
"No, dear, let me see her now," I
"She is not here. Nurse, why did
you not take Mrs. Waverly to see the
baby first?" she inquired with a little
"Mrs. Waverly asked to see you,"
was the nurse's composed reply.
"Bring the baby in here now," was
Eliene's quick command.
"I can't do that, she's sleeping."
'You see, Margie, I have to obey
orders, but very soon I'll have my
baby to myself and then I can wake
her up if I wish."
"I hope you will never do that, Mrs.
Symone," came in cool tones from
the nurse, who, turning to me said:
"You may stay just 15 minutes, Mrs.
Waverly," and left the room.
'1 don't believe that woman is hu
man," was Eliene's impatient com
ment. "Let's don't talk about her,
however, I have so much to say to
you, and she'll be back so quickly. I
want to tell you, dear, that I am the
very happiest woman in the world.
You may think, Margie, you're hap
py when you say 'yes' to your lover,
or on your wedding day, but there is
nothing in this world, and I question
if there is anything in heaven that
equals the joy that you have when
your baby is first placed in your
arms. They tell me I was very fll, but
J've forgotten it all I forgot it the
moment I came to myself after that
agonizing pain and realized that I
was sometmng besides a tortured
body and heard a tiny voice raised in
edge is added that her very own baby,
"Margie, there is nothing that can
-describe that hour of quiet happi
ness that comes to a woman directly
she has given birth to a child. The
very fact that she no longer suffers
would be joy enough, but the knowl
edge is added thather very own baby,
blood of her blood, flesh of her flesh,
is voicing her disgust with the world
in the cry of the new-horn, carries
her soul to flights of ectasy of which
you cannot dream. I am still living
over again that feeling outter and
perfect bliss that came to me the mo
ment my child was born. I envy you,
dear, what is coming to you."
"Time's up," said the nurse.
"Come again and see me soon,"
"Just as soon and as often as the
nurse will let me, and I forgot to de
liver a message from Morrison. She
wanted me to give you her best love
and duty and to tell you she would
be up to see you as soon as the nurse
would let her come."
Eliene's face clouded. "Tell her
I'll see her right after luncheon."
"But Mrs. Symone," began the
"Please tell her without fail, Mar
gie," Eliene interrupted.
Some women have no more busi
ness to take up the work of nursing
than others have to adopt the stage
as a profession. The woman who be
comes a strict machine with the same
lack of human equation that a thing
of pulley and wheels and bars does,
I contend is not a good nurse. Eliene
is craving company, and while every
one should not be admitted to her
room, nor should they stay long, I
know the little paen of happiness
which she recited to me has done her
a world of good.
Of course, I am not so foolish, little
book, as to think a nurse should not
obey the doctor's orders, but I am
sure she can do this witnout giving
the impression that she is the great v