diff options
Diffstat (limited to '29729.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 29729.txt | 13931 |
1 files changed, 13931 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/29729.txt b/29729.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f921a23 --- /dev/null +++ b/29729.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13931 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Victor's Triumph, by Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Victor's Triumph + Sequel to A Beautiful Fiend + +Author: Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth + +Release Date: August 19, 2009 [EBook #29729] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VICTOR'S TRIUMPH *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + * * * * * + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Every effort has been made to replicate this text as +faithfully as possible; please see detailed list of printing issues at +the end of the text. + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration: frontispiece portrait] + + + + +VICTOR'S TRIUMPH + +SEQUEL TO + +A BEAUTIFUL FIEND + +BY MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +AUTHOR OF "TRIED FOR HER LIFE," "THE LOST HEIRESS," +"ALLWORTH ABBEY," ETC., ETC. + + + NEW YORK + HURST & COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + * * * * * + + +MRS. SOUTHWORTH SERIES + +UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME + +By MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + + Allworth Abbey. + + Beautiful Fiend, A. + + Bride's Fate, The. + + Capitola, the Madcap. + + Changed Brides. + + Cruel as the Grave. + + Curse of Clifton, The. + + Deserted Wife. + + Discarded Daughter. + + Hidden Hand. + + India. + + Ishmael; or, In the Depths. + + Lost Heiress, The. + + Miriam, the Avenger. + + Missing Bride, The. + + Mother-in-Law, The. + + Mystery of a Dark Hollow. + + Retribution. + + Self-Raised; or, From the Depths. + + Three Beauties, The. + + Tried for Her Life. + + Victor's Triumph. + + Vivia. + +_Price, postpaid, 50c. each, or any three books for $1.25_ + +HURST & COMPANY +PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + + + + +VICTOR'S TRIUMPH. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +SAMSON AND DELILAH. + + Thus he grew + Tolerant of what he half disdained. And she, + Perceiving that she was but half disdained, + Began to break her arts with graver fits-- + Turn red or pale, and often, when they met, + Sigh deeply, or, all-silent, gaze upon him + With such a fixed devotion, that the old man, + Though doubtful, felt the flattery, and at times + Would flatter his own wish, in age, for love, + And half believe her true. + --TENNYSON. + + +As soon as the subtle siren was left alone in the drawing-room with the +aged clergyman she began weaving her spells around him as successfully +as did the beautiful enchantress Vivien around the sage Merlin. + +Throwing her bewildering dark eyes up to his face she murmured in +hurried tones: + +"You _will_ not betray me to this family? Oh, consider! I am so young +and so helpless!" + +"And so beautiful," added the old man under his breath, as he gazed with +involuntary admiration upon her fair, false face. Then, aloud, he said: +"I have already told you, wretched child, that I would forbear to expose +you so long as you should conduct yourself with strict propriety here; +but no longer." + +"You do not trust me. Ah, you do not see that one false step with its +terrible consequences has been such an awful and enduring lesson to me +that I could not make another! I am safer now from the possibility of +error than is the most innocent and carefully guarded child. Oh, can you +not understand this?" she asked, pathetically. + +And her argument was a very specious and plausible one, and it made an +impression. + +"I can well believe that the fearful retribution that followed so fast +upon your 'false step,' as you choose to call it, has been and will be +an awful warning to you. But some warnings come too late. What _can_ be +your long future life?" he sadly inquired. + +"Alas, what?" she echoed, with a profound sigh. "Even under the most +propitious circumstances--_what?_ If I am permitted to stay here I shall +be buried alive in this country house, without hope of resurrection. +Perhaps fifty years I may have to live here. The old lady will die. Emma +will marry. Her children will grow up and marry. And in all the changes +of future years I shall vegetate here without change, and without hope +except in the better world. And yet, dreary as the prospect is, it is +the best that I can expect, the best that I can even desire, and much +better than I deserve," she added, with a humility that touched the old +man's heart. + +"I feel sorry for you, child; very, very sorry for your blighted young +life. Poor child, you can never be happy again; but listen--_you can be +good!_" he said, very gently. + +And then he suddenly remembered what her bewildering charms had made him +for a moment forget--that was, that this unworthy girl had been actually +on the point of marriage with an honorable man when Death stepped in and +put an end to a foolish engagement. + +So, after a painful pause, he said, slowly: + +"My child, I have heard that you were about to be married to Charles +Cavendish, when his sudden death arrested the nuptials. Is that true?" + +"It is true," she answered, in a tone of humility and sorrow. + +"But how could you venture to dream of marrying him?" + +"Ah, me; I knew I was unworthy of him! But he fell in love with me. I +could not help that. Now, could I? _Now, could I?_" she repeated, +earnestly and pathetically, looking at him. + +"N-n-no. Perhaps you could not," he admitted. + +"And oh, he courted me so hard!--so hard! And I could not prevent him!" + +"Could you not have avoided him? Could you not have left the house?" + +"Ah, no; I had no place to go to! I had lost my situation in the +school." + +"Still you should never have engaged yourself to marry Charles +Cavendish, for you must have been aware that if he had known your true +story he would never have thought of taking you as his wife." + +"Oh, I know it! And I knew it then. And I was unhappy enough about it. +But oh, what could I do? I could not prevent his loving me, do what I +would. I could not go away from the house, because I had no place on +earth to go to. And least of all would I go to him and tell him the +terrible story of my life. I would rather have died than have told that! +I should have died of humiliation in the telling--I couldn't tell him! +Now could I? _Could I?_" + +"I suppose you had not the courage to do so." + +"No, indeed I had not! Yet very often I told him, in a general way, that +I was most unworthy of him. But he never would believe that." + +"No; I suppose he believed you to be everything that is pure, good and +heavenly. What a terrible reproach his exalted opinion of you must have +been!" + +"Oh, it was--it was!" she answered, hypocritically. "It was such a +severe reproach that, having in a moment of weakness yielded to his +earnest prayer and consented to become his wife, I soon cast about for +some excuse for breaking the engagement; for I felt if it were a great +wrong to make such an engagement it would be a still greater wrong to +keep it. Don't you agree with me?" + +"Yes, most certainly." + +"Well, while I was seeking some excuse to break off the marriage Death +stepped in and put an end to it. Perhaps then I ought to have left the +house, but--I had no money to go with and, as I said before, no place to +go to. And besides Emma Cavendish was overwhelmed with grief and could +not bear to be left alone; and she begged me to come down here with her. +So, driven by my own necessities and drawn by hers, I came down. Do you +blame me? _Do_ you blame me?" she coaxed, pathetically. + +"No, I do not blame you for that. But," said the old man, gravely and +sadly, shaking his head, "why, when you got here, did you turn +eavesdropper and spy?" + +"Oh, me!--oh, dear me!" sobbed the siren. "It was the sin of +helplessness and cowardice. I dreaded discovery so much! Every +circumstance alarmed me. Your arrival and your long mysterious +conversation with madam alarmed me. I thought exposure imminent. I +feared to lose this home, which, lonely, dreary, hopeless as it is to +me, is yet the only refuge I have left on earth. I am penniless and +helpless; and but for this kind family I should be homeless and +friendless. Think if I had been cast out upon the world what must have +been my fate!" + +"What, indeed!" echoed the old man. + +"Therefore, I dreaded to be cast out. I dreaded discovery. Your visit +filled me with uneasiness, that, as the day wore away, reached intense +anxiety, and finally arose to insupportable anguish and suspense. Then I +went to listen at the door, only to hear whether your conversation +concerned me--whether I was still to be left in peace or to be cast out +upon the bitter cold world. Ah, do not blame me too much! Just think how +I suffered!" she said, pathetically, clasping her hands. + + "'Oh, what a tangled web we weave + When first we practice to deceive!'" + +murmured the old man to himself. Then, aloud, he said: + +"Poor girl, you were snared in the web of your own contriving! Yet +still, when I caught you in that net, why did you deny your identity and +try to make me believe that you were somebody else?" + +"Oh, the same sin of helplessness and cowardice; the same fear of +discovery and exposure; the same horror of being cast forth from this +pure, safe, peaceful home into the bitter, cold, foul, perilous world +outside! I feared, if you found out who I was, you would expose me, and +I should be cast adrift. And then it all came so suddenly I had no time +for reflection. The instinct of self-preservation made me deny my +identity before I considered what a falsehood I uttered. Ah, have you no +pity for me, in considering the straits to which I was reduced?" she +pleaded, clasping her hands before him and raising her eyes to his face. + +"'The way of the transgressor is hard,'" murmured the minister to +himself. Then he answered her: + +"Yes, I do pity you very much. I pity you for your sins and sufferings. +But more than all I pity you for the moral and spiritual blindness of +which you do not even seem to be suspicious, far less conscious." + +"I do not understand you," murmured Mary Grey, in a low, frightened +tone. + +"No, you do not understand me. Well, I will try to explain. You have +pleaded your youth as an excuse for your first 'false step,' as you call +it. But I tell you that a girl who is old enough to sin is old enough to +know better than to sin. And if you were not morally and spiritually +blind you would see this. Secondly, you have pleaded your +necessities--that is, your interests--as a just cause and excuse for +your matrimonial engagement with Governor Cavendish, and for your +eavesdropping in this house, and also for your false statements to me. +But I tell you if you had been as truly penitent as you professed to be +you would have felt no necessity so pressing as the necessity for true +repentance, forgiveness and amendment. And if you had not been morally +and spiritually blind you would have seen this also. I sometimes think +that it may be my duty to discover you to this family. Yet I will be +candid with you. I fear that if you should be turned adrift here you +might, and probably would, fall into deeper sin. Therefore I will not +expose you--for the present, and upon conditions. You are safe from me +so long as you remain true, honest and faithful to this household. But +upon the slightest indication of any sort of duplicity or double dealing +I shall unmask you to Madam Cavendish. And now you had better retire. +Good-night." + +And with these words the old man walked to a side-table, took a bed-room +candle in his hand and gave it to the widow. + +Mary Grey snatched and kissed his hand, courtesied and withdrew. + +When she got to her own room she threw herself into a chair and laughed +softly, murmuring: + +"The old Pharisee! He is more than half in love with me now. I know it, +and I feel it. Yet, to save his own credit with himself, he pretends to +lecture me and tries to persuade himself that he means it. But he is +half in love with me. Before I have done with him he shall be wholly in +love with me. And won't it be fun to have his gray head at my feet, +proposing marriage to me! And that is what I mean to bring him to before +a month is over his venerable skeleton!" + +And, with this characteristic resolution, Mary Grey went to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +LAURA LYTTON'S MYSTERIOUS BENEFACTOR. + + +There never was a closer friendship between two girls than that which +bound Laura Lytton and Emma Cavendish together. + +On the night of Laura's arrival, after they had retired from the +drawing-room, and Electra had gone to bed and gone to sleep, Laura and +Emma sat up together in Emma's room and talked until nearly +daylight--talked of everything in the heavens above, the earth below, +and the waters under the earth. And then, when at length they parted, +Laura asked: + +"May I come in here with you to dress to-morrow? And then we can finish +our talk." + +"Surely, love! Use my room just like your own," answered Emma, with a +kiss. + +And they separated for a few hours. + +But early in the morning, as soon as Emma was out of bed, she heard a +tap at her chamber door, and she opened it to see Laura standing there +in her white merino dressing-gown, with her dark hair hanging down and a +pile of clothing over her arms. + +"Come in, dear," said Emma, greeting her with a kiss. + +And Laura entered and laid her pile of clothing on a chair, discovering +in her hand a rich casket, which she set upon the dressing-table, +saying: + +"Here, Emma, dear, I have something very curious to show you. You have +heard me speak of some unknown friend who is paying the cost of my +brother's and my own education?" + +"Yes. Haven't you found out yet who he is?" inquired Miss Cavendish. + +"No; and I do not even know whether our benefactor is a he or a she. But +anyhow he has sent me this," said Laura, unlocking the casket and +lifting the lid. + +"A set of diamonds and opals fit for a princess!" exclaimed Emma, in +admiration, as she gazed upon the deep blue satin tray, on which was +arranged a brooch, a pair of ear-rings, a bracelet and a necklace of the +most beautiful opals set in diamonds. + +"Yes, they are lovely! They must have come from Paris. They are highly +artistic," answered Laura. "But look at these others, will you? These +are barbaric," she added, lifting the upper tray from the casket and +taking from the recess beneath the heaviest cable gold chain, a heavier +finger ring, and a pair of bracelets. "Just take these in your double +hands and 'heft' them, as the children say," she concluded, as she put +the weight of gold in Emma's open palms, which sank at first under the +burden. + +"There; what do you think of that?" inquired Laura. + +"I think they are barbaric, as you said. Well intended, no doubt, but +utterly barbaric. Why, this gold chain might fasten up the strongest +bull-dog and these bracelets serve as fetters for the most desperate +felon! Where on earth were they manufactured?" inquired Miss Cavendish. + +"In some rude country where there was more gold than good taste, +evidently. However, Emma, dear, there is something very touching, very +pathetic, to my mind, in these anonymous offerings. Of course they are +almost useless to me. I could never wear the chain or the bracelets. +They are far too clumsy for any one but an Indian chief; and I can never +wear those lovely opals unless by some miracle I grow rich enough to +have everything in harmony with them. And yet, Emma, the kindness +and--what shall I say?--the humility of this anonymous giver so deeply +touches my heart that I would not part with even a link of this useless +chain to buy myself bread if I were starving," murmured Laura, with the +tears filling her eyes, as she replaced the jewels in their casket. + +"And you have no suspicion who the donor is?" + +"None whatever. These came to me through Mr. Lyle, the agent who +receives and pays the money for our education." + +"What does your brother say to all this?" + +"Oh, it makes him very uneasy at times. He shrinks from receiving this +anonymous assistance. It is all Mr. Lyle can do now, by assuring him +that in the end he will find it all right, to induce him to continue to +receive it. And, at all events, he declares that after he graduates he +will not take another dollar of this anonymous fund--conscience money or +not--but that he will begin to pay back in bank, with interest and +compound interest, the debt that he is now incurring." + +"I think that resolution is highly to his honor," said Emma Cavendish. + +"And he will keep it. I know Alden," answered Laura. + +And then the two girls hastened to dress themselves for breakfast. And +very well they both looked as they left their room. + +Laura wore her crimson merino morning-dress, with white linen cuffs and +collar, a costume that well became her olive complexion and dark hair +and eyes. + +Emma wore a black cashmere trimmed with lusterless black silk, and +folded book-muslin cuffs and collar. And in this dark dress her radiant +blonde beauty shone like a fair star. + +They rapped at Electra's door to bring her out. + +She made her appearance looking quite dazzling. Electra had a gay taste +in dress. She loved bright colors and many of them. She wore a purple +dressing-gown with a brilliant shawl border--a dress for a portly old +lady rather than for a slim young girl. + +They went down together to the breakfast-room, where they found the +languishing widow and the old clergyman _tete-a-tete_. + +Mrs. Grey greeted them with a sweet smile and honeyed words, and Dr. +Jones with a kindly good-morning and handshake. + +And they sat down to breakfast. + +This Easter Sunday had dawned clearly and beautifully. The family of +Blue Cliffs were all going to attend divine service at Wendover. + +So, as soon as breakfast was over, the carriage was ordered, and the +young ladies went upstairs to dress for church. + +At nine o'clock the whole party set out. Emma Cavendish, Laura Lytton +and Electra Coroni went in the old family coach, carefully driven by +Jerome. Mrs. Grey went in a buggy driven by the Rev. Dr. Jones. + +Who arranged this last drive, this _tete-a-tete_, no one knew except the +artful coquette and her venerable victim. + +They all reached the church in good time. + +The rector, the Rev. Dr. Goodwin, read the morning service, and the Rev. +Dr. Jones preached the sermon. + +At the conclusion of the services, when the congregation were leaving, +Mr. Craven Kyte came up to pay his respects to the ladies from Blue +Cliffs. + +Miss Cavendish introduced him to Dr. Jones, explaining that he had been +a ward of her father, and was once an inmate of Blue Cliff Hall. + +Dr. Jones received the young man with courtesy, and in his turn +introduced him to Miss Coroni. + +Then Emma Cavendish invited him to go home with them to dinner, kindly +reminding him of the old custom of spending his holidays in his +guardian's house. + +With a smile and a bow, and with a warm expression of thanks, the young +man accepted the offered hospitality. + +And when the party entered their carriages to return to Blue Cliffs, +Craven Kyte, mounted on a fine horse, attended them. + +But, mind, he did not ride beside the carriage that contained the three +young ladies, but beside the gig occupied by Mary Grey and Dr. Jones. + +And the very first inquiry he made of Emma, on reaching the house, was: + +"Is the Reverend Doctor Jones a married man?" + +"Why, what a question!" exclaimed Emma, laughing. "No, he is not a +married man; he is a widower. Why do you ask?" + +"I don't know. But I thought he was a widower. He seems very much taken +with Mrs. Grey," sighed the young man. + +"Oh, is that it?" laughed Emma, as she ran away to take off her bonnet +and mantle. + +And that Easter Sunday Mary Grey found herself again in a dilemma +between her two proposed victims--the gray-haired clergyman and the +raven-locked youth. + +But she managed them both with so much adroitness that at the close of +the day, when Craven Kyte was riding slowly back to Wendover, he was +saying to himself: + +"She is fond of me, after all; the beauty, the darling, the angel! Oh, +that such a perfect creature should be fond of me! I am at this moment +the very happiest man on earth!" + +And later the same night, when the Rev. Dr. Jones laid his woolen +night-capped head upon his pillow, instead of going to sleep as the old +gentleman should have done, he lay awake and communed with himself as +follows: + +"Poor child--poor child! A mere baby. And she _is_ penitent; sincerely +penitent. Oh, I can see that! And to think that she is not nearly so +much in fault as we believed her to be! She tells me that she really was +married to that man--married when she was a child only fourteen years of +age. So her gravest error was in running away to be married! And that +was the fault of the man who stole her, rather than of herself. And she +is as repentant for that fault as if it were some great crime. And oh, +how she has suffered! What she has gone through for one so young! And +she has such a tender, affectionate, clinging nature! Ah, what will +become of her, poor child--poor child! She ought to have some one to +take care of her. She ought indeed to be married, for no one but a +tender husband could take care of such a pretty, delicate, helpless +creature. She ought to marry some one much older than herself. Not a +green, beardless boy like that young puppy--Heaven forgive me!--I mean +that young man Kyte. He couldn't appreciate her, couldn't be a guide or +a guard to her. And she really needs guiding and guarding too. For see +how easily she falls into error. She ought to marry some good, wise, +elderly man, who could be her guide, philosopher and friend as well as +husband." + +And so murmuring to himself he fell asleep to dream that he himself was +the model guide, philosopher and friend required by the young widow. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A GROWL FROM UNCLE JACKY. + + +The next day, Easter Monday, brought a messenger from Lytton Lodge; a +messenger who was no other than Mithridates, commonly called "Taters," +once a servant of Frederick Fanning, the landlord of White Perch Point, +but now a hired hand of John Lytton's. + +Mithridates, or Taters, rode an infirm-looking old draft horse, with a +dilapidated saddle and bridle, and wore a hat and coat exceedingly +shabby for a gentleman's servant. + +He also led a second horse, furnished with a side-saddle. + +He dismounted at the carriage-steps, tied the horses to a tree, and +boldly went to the front door and knocked. + +Jerome opened it, and administered a sharp rebuke to the messenger for +presuming to knock at the visitors' door instead of at the servants'. + +"If I'd a come to the servants' I'd rapped at the servants' door; but as +I have comed to the white folks' I rap at dere door. Here; I've fotch a +letter from Marse Jacky Lytton to his niece, Miss Lorrer," said Taters, +pompously. + +"Give it to me then, and I'll take it in to her," said Jerome. + +"Set you up with it! I must 'liver of this here letter with my own hands +inter her own hands," said Taters, stoutly. + +"Well, come along, for a fool! You're a purty looking objick to denounce +into the parlor, a'n't you now?" said Jerome, leading the way. + +At that moment, unseen by Jerome, but distinctly seen by Taters, a face +appeared at the head of the stairs for an instant, but meeting the eye +of Taters turned white as death and vanished. + +Taters uttered a terrible cry and sank, ashen pale and quaking with +horror, at the foot of the steps. + +"Why, what in the name of the old boy is the matter with you, man? Have +you trod on a nail or piece of glass, or anything that has gone through +your foot, or what is it?" demanded Jerome, in astonishment. + +"Oh, no, no, no! it's worse'n that--it's worse'n that! It's no end +worse'n that! Oh, Lor'! oh, Lor'! oh, Lor'!" cried Taters, holding his +knees and sawing backward and forward in an agony of horror. + +"Ef you don't stop that howlin' and tell me what's the matter of you I'm +blessed ef I don't get a bucket of ice water and heave it all over you +to fetch you to your senses!" exclaimed the exasperated Jerome. + +"Oh, Lor', don't! Oh, please don't! I shill die quick enough now without +that!" cried Taters, writhing horribly. + +"What's the matter, you born iddiwut?" roared Jerome, in a fury. + +"Oh, I've seen a sperrit--I've seen a sperrit! I've seen the sperrit of +my young mistress! And it's a token of my death!" wailed the negro boy +in agony. + +"What's that you say--a sperrit? A sperrit in this yer 'spectable, +'sponsible house? Lookee here, nigger: mind what you say now, or it'll +be the wus for you! A sperrit in this yer ginteel family as never had a +crime or a ghost inter it! The Cavendishers nebber 'mits no crimes when +der living, nor likewise don't walk about ondecent after der dead. And +der a'n't no sperrits here," said Jerome, with ire. + +"Oh, I wish it wasn't--I wish it wasn't! But it was a sperrit! And it's +a token of my death--it's a token of my death!" howled Taters. + +And now at last the noise brought the three young ladies out of the +drawing-room. + +"What is the matter here, Jerome?" inquired Mrs. Cavendish. "Has any one +got hurt? Who is that man?" + +"Ef you please, Miss Emma, no one a'n't got hurt, though you might a +thought, from the squalling, that there was a dozen pigs a killin'. And +that man, miss, is a born iddiwut, so he is--begging your pardon, +miss!--and says he's seed a sperrit in this yer harristocraterick house, +where there never was a sperrit yet," explained Jerome, with a grieved +and indignant look. + +"But who is the man? What is he doing here? And what does he want?" +inquired the young lady. + +"The man is a born iddiwut, Miss Emma, as I telled you before; that's +who the man he is! And he's a making of a 'fernal fool of hisself; +that's what he's doing here! And he deserves a good hiding; and that's +what he wants!" said Jerome, irately. + +Miss Cavendish passed by the privileged old family servant, and went up +to the man himself and inquired: + +"Who are you, boy? What brings you here? And what ails you?" + +"Oh, miss! I'm Taters, I am. And I come to fetch a letter from Marse +Jacky Lytton to Miss Lorrer. And I seen a sperrit at the top o'them +stair steps. And that's what's the matter of me," cried the boy. + +"A spirit! Jerome, do you think he's been drinking?" inquired the young +lady in a low, frightened voice. + +For an answer Jerome, without the least hesitation, seized Taters by the +head, pulled open his jaws, and stuck his own nose into the cavity and +took an audible snuff. Then, releasing the head, he answered: + +"No, miss, he a'n't been drinking nuffin. His breff's as sweet as a +milch cow's. I reckon he must be subjick to epperliptic fits, miss, by +the way he fell down here all of a suddint, crying out as he'd seen a +sperrit." + +"You said you had a letter, boy. Where is it?" inquired Emma. + +"Here, miss! Here it is! I'll give it to you, though I wouldn't give it +to him there!" answered Taters, with a contemptuous glance toward +Jerome. + +Emma took the letter, which was inclosed in a wonderfully dingy yellow +envelope, and she read the superscription, and then called to Laura, +saying: + +"Come here, my dear. Here is a letter from Lytton Lodge for you." + +Laura Lytton, who, with Electra, had been standing just within the +drawing-room door, near enough to observe the group, but not to hear the +whole of their conversation, now came when she was called and received +her letter. + +"It is from dear Uncle Jacky," she said, with an affectionate smile, as +she recognized the handwriting. + +And then she asked the messenger a multitude of questions, which he was +too much agitated to answer coherently, until at length Miss Cavendish +said: + +"Jerome, take the poor fellow into the kitchen and give him something to +eat and drink. There is nothing like beef and beer to exorcise evil +spirits. And when he is rested and refreshed we will see him again." + +And Jerome took Taters rather roughly by the shoulder and pulled him +upon his feet and carried him along the hall through the back door +toward the kitchen. + +"Will you excuse me now, dear Emma, while I read my uncle's letter?" +inquired Laura, as she retreated to the drawing-room. + +"Certainly," smiled Miss Cavendish, following her guests. + +Laura went into the recess of a bay-window and opened the dingy yellow +envelope and read as follows: + + + "LYTTON LODGE, April --, 18--. + + "MY DEAR NIECE:--I think my nephew, Alden, has a more correcter + ideer of what is jue to kin and kith than what you have shown. + + "Alden is spending his Easter holidays along of me and his + relations. + + "But you haven't been nigh the house since you left it to go to + school. You do seem to be so wrapped up in the Cavendishers as + not to think anything of your own folks. + + "Now I can tell you what it is. The Lyttonses are a great deal + older and better family than all the Cavendishers that ever + lived. I don't care if they was governors of the state. + + "I have heard my grandfather, who was a scholar, say that the + Lyttonses was landed gentry in the old country long before the + Cavendishers followed of their lord and marster William the + Conkerer across the channil. And so I don't approve of your + sliting of the Lyttonses for them there Cavendishers. Spesherly + as you're a Lytton yourself. And if we don't respect ourselves + and each other no one a'n't a going to respect us. + + "And talking of that, what do you think Hezekiah Greenfield, the + landlord of the Reindeer, went and done to me last week? + + "Why, he came over and asked me could I supply his tavern with + fruits and vegetables during the summer season at the market + price, saying--quite as if he was a making of me a kind proposal + instead of offering of me a black insult--that he'd rather deal + with me, and I should have his money, than any one else, if so be + I was willing to do business. + + "Now what do you think I answered him? + + "Why, I set the bull-dog on him! I did that! And it was good for + him as he scrambled up on his horse and made off double-quick, or + he'd been torn to pieces before you could say Jack Robinson. + + "That'll learn the tavern-keeper to insult a gentleman next time + by offering to buy his garden stuff! + + "But what I'm writing to you for, my dear, now, is this. I think + you ought to come to see us, anyhow. You must come, if it's only + for two or three days, to see your old grandmother, and all your + relations, and to meet Alden, who is here, as I said. I have sent + Taters on horseback with a led horse and a side-saddle for you. + Come back along of him to-morrow morning. And give my honorable + compliments to the old madam and Miss Cavendish. Because, mind + you, I'm not a saying as the Cavendishers a'n't a good, + respectabil family; only I do say as they are not so good as the + Lyttonses, and they never was and never will be; and they know it + themselves, too. Well, your dear grandma, and your dear aunties + and cousins, all sends their love to you, with many good wishes. + So no more at present from your affeckshunit uncle, + + "JOHN LYTTON." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE GHOST SEEN BY "TATERS." + + He shuddered, as no doubt the bravest cowers, + When he can't tell what 'tis that doth appall. + How odd a single hobgoblin's nonentity + Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity. + --BYRON. + + +"Emma, dear, I have a letter from Uncle John Lytton," said Laura, +gravely, going to the side of her friend. + +"I hope they are all well at Lytton Lodge," responded Emma. + +"Oh, yes, thank you, they are all quite well; but," added Laura, with a +sigh, "Uncle John has written to me to come at once and pay them a +visit. And to leave me no excuse, he has sent his servant Mithridates on +horseback, with another led horse and side-saddle, to take me to Lytton +Lodge." + +"Oh, dear! But you need not go, I hope?" said Emma, looking up, with a +sigh. + +"I must go," answered Laura, with another sigh. "And really I ought to +be glad to go to see such kind friends as all my relatives there have +been to me. But, you see, Emma, I don't like to leave you for a single +day even before I have to return to school." + +"Then why do you go at all? Why can you not send an excuse?" + +"Dear Emma, would _you_ refuse to go if you were in my place?" inquired +Laura. + +Emma Cavendish could not reply. + +"No, you would not," added Laura, "because it would not be right to +refuse." + +"But, my dear, to perform so long a journey on horseback! It must be +over twenty miles. Let me see--it is about nine miles from here to +Wendover, and it must be ten or eleven from Wendover to Lytton Lodge," +said Emma. + +"No; only about eight or nine. The whole distance is not more than +seventeen or eighteen miles by the roundabout route. And if I could go +as the crow flies it is not more than six miles. Why, you know the +eastern extremity of your land touches the western extremity of +uncle's." + +"So it does. And if, as you say, you could go as the crow flies--that +is, straight over mountains and rivers--you could get there in two +hours. As it is, it will take you five or six hours, and that is too +long for a girl to be in the saddle, especially a city-bred girl, +unaccustomed to such exercise." + +"I think I can stand it," smiled Laura. + +"But you shall not try. If you will go you must take the little +carriage. When do you propose to start?" + +"To-morrow morning." + +"Well, we will send the redoubtable Mithridates back with his steeds, +and send you on your journey in the little carriage, under the +guardianship of old Jerome, with orders to remain with you during your +visit; but to bring you back again, at farthest, on the third day," said +Emma, peremptorily. + +Laura thanked her friend, but protested against any trouble being taken +on her account. + +But Miss Cavendish was firm, and the arrangement was made according to +her plan. + +In the meantime Mithridates, eating beef and bread and drinking +home-made sweet cider in the kitchen, recovered some of his composure; +though still, with his mouth full of meat and his eyes starting from his +head, he persisted that he had seen the spirit of his young mistress. +And it was a token of his death. + +"G'long way from her', boy! Ef I didn't know as you _wasn't_ I should +think as you _was_ intoxified! There never was no sperrit never seen +into this house," said Aunt Molly, indignantly. + +"I don't care! I did see her sperrit! So there now," persisted Taters, +bolting a chunk of bread and choking with it for a moment. "And--and +it's a token of my death." + +"Is that the reason you're a trying to kill yourself now, you iddiwut?" + +"No; but I seen her sperrit!" + +"I don't believe one word of it. You're a making of it all up out'n your +own stoopid head! There, now, ef you're done eatin' you'd better go +'long and put up your hosses," said Aunt Moll, seeing her guest pause in +his gastronomic efforts. + +But Taters hadn't done eating, and did't get done until all the dishes +on the kitchen table were cleared and the jug of cider emptied. + +Then, indeed, he gave over and went to look after his "beasts." + +At the same hour Mary Grey, locked fast in her room, suffered agonies of +terror and anxiety. She, too, had seen a "ghost"--a ghost of her past +life--a ghost that might have come to summon her from her present +luxurious home! + +On her way down-stairs to the drawing-room she had been arrested on the +head of the middle landing by the sight of a once familiar face and +form. + +She met the distended eyes of this apparition, and saw at once that he +had recognized her as surely as she had recognized him. + +And in an instant she vanished. + +She darted into her own room and locked the door and sank breathless +into the nearest chair. + +And there she sat now, with beating heart and burning head, waiting for +what should come next. + +A rap at the door was the next thing that came. + +It frightened her, of course--everything frightened her now. + +"Who is that?" she nervously inquired. + +"Only me, ma'am. The ladies are waiting luncheon for you. Miss Emma +sends her compliments and says will you come down?" spoke the voice of +Sarah, the lady's maid. + +"Love to Miss Cavendish, and ask her to excuse me. I do not want any +luncheon," answered Mary Grey, without opening the door. + +Then she sank back in her chair with throbbing pulses, waiting for the +issue of this crisis. She was really ill with intense anxiety and dread. +She grew so weak at last that she lay down upon her sofa. + +Then came another rap at the door. + +"Who is that?" she asked again, faintly. + +"It is I, dear," answered the voice of Emma Cavendish. + +Mrs. Grey arose trembling and opened the door. + +"I was afraid that you were not well. I came up to see," said Emma, +kindly, as she entered the room. + +"I--no, I am not quite well," faltered Mary Grey, as she retreated to +the sofa and sat down, with her back purposely to the light and her face +in the shadow. + +"You really look pale and ill. What is the matter, dear?" + +"I--think I have taken cold. But by keeping to my room for a few days I +hope to be better. A cold always affects the action of my heart and +makes me very nervous," said Mary Grey, in explanation of the tremors +for which she could not otherwise account. + +Then Emma expressed sympathy and sorrow, and begged the pretended +invalid to have some tea and cream-toast, or some wine-whey or +chicken-broth. + +But Mary Grey declined all these offers, declaring that a cold always +took her appetite away. + +And again Emma expressed regret. + +And, as Miss Cavendish talked, Mary Grey grew more composed. + +It was evident, she thought, that Emma as yet knew nothing of that +strange rencounter on the stairs. + +Presently, Miss Cavendish said: + +"I am sorry to tell you that we shall lose Laura Lytton for a few days. +Her uncle, Mr. Lytton of Lytton Lodge, has sent a messenger for her. She +goes to visit her relations there to-morrow morning." + +"Indeed--a messenger?" exclaimed Mary Grey, pricking up her ears. + +"Yes; a queer genius, who signalized his entrance into the house by a +scene," added Emma, smiling. + +"Indeed!" + +"Oh, yes! Why, you might have heard the commotion in the front hall! Did +you hear nothing of it?" + +"No, dear; I have remained shut up in my room ever since breakfast--have +not stirred from it," answered Mary Grey, lying without the least +hesitation. + +"That accounts for your knowing nothing about it. But the absurd fellow +raised quite a confusion by suddenly falling down in the front hall in a +spasm of terror, declaring that he had seen the spirit of his young +mistress on the middle landing of the front stairs." + +"An optical illusion," answered Mary Grey, in a low, tremulous tone and +with her face carefully kept in the shadow. + +"Of course! And it appears that he was once a servant of that reckless +and unlucky Frederick Fanning of White Perch Point, who married my +mother's sister. And consequently his young mistress must have been that +unfortunate cousin of mine," said Emma, with a sigh. + +"Does any one know what ever became of that wretched girl?" inquired +Mrs. Grey, in a very low tone. + +"No; but I gather from the wild talk of the boy that she is supposed to +be dead. It was her spirit that he thinks he saw." + +"Whatever became of her father and mother?" questioned Mary Grey in the +same low tone and still keeping her face in the deep shadow. + +"I do not know. I heard that they went to California. I have not heard +anything of them since. But, my dear, you are talking beyond your +strength. Your voice is quite faint--scarcely audible indeed. Now I +advise you to lie down and be quiet," said Miss Cavendish, with some +solicitude. + +And then she kissed Mary Grey, begged her to ring for anything she might +require, and then she left the room. + +And Mary Grey heard no more of the ghost. That cloud passed harmlessly +over her head. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A VISIT TO LYTTON LODGE. + + +Early the next morning Miss Cavendish's snug little pony-carriage, with +a pretty pair of grays, stood before the front door waiting for Laura +Lytton. + +Old Jerome sat on the front seat to drive. + +Taters, with his own horse and the now useless led horse, was in +attendance. + +Laura Lytton, dressed for her journey and with traveling-bag in hand, +stood with Emma Cavendish in the hall waiting for Mrs. Grey, to whom +they had sent a message inviting her to come down and see the traveler +off. + +But presently the messenger returned with Miss Grey's love and good +wishes, and requested that they would excuse her from coming down, as +her cold was so severe that she did not dare to leave her room. + +"I must go up and bid her good-bye then," said Laura, as she dropped her +traveling-bag and ran upstairs. + +She found Mary Grey in a fine white merino dressing-gown playing the +interesting invalid. + +She hastily kissed her, expressed a hope that she might find her better +on returning to Blue Cliffs, and then ran out of the room and +down-stairs as fast as she could go. + +She had already taken leave of every member of the family except Emma +Cavendish, who went out with her to the carriage, saw her comfortably +seated in it, and kissed her good-bye. + +The little cavalcade then set forward. + +It was a lovely spring morning. The woods and fields were clothed with +the freshest green; the mountain tops beamed in the most beautiful opal +tints, and the blue sky was without a cloud. + +Laura enjoyed her drive very much. + +At Wendover they stopped to rest and water the horses, and then they +resumed their journey and went on to Lytton Lodge, where they arrived +just about noon. + +John Lytton was evidently on the lookout for his niece, for as the +pony-carriage drove up, amid the barking of all the dogs and the +shouting of all the little negroes, he rushed out of the house, throwing +up his arms; and he caught Laura and lifted her bodily from her seat, +roaring his welcome. + +And Laura, as she returned his honest, hearty greeting, felt a twinge of +self-reproach in remembering with what reluctance she had come. + +Uncle John took her into the house and set her down in the hall in the +midst of all her relations, who had crowded there to welcome here. + +"Lor-lor-lor', John! How dare you ma-ma-make so free as that with Laura, +and she a young 'oman?" exclaimed old Mrs. Lytton, as, in her well-known +faded calico gown and long-eared muslin cap, she came up and kissed her +granddaughter. + +"Why, because she _is_ a young 'oman, of course, and not an old man!" +said John, saucily. + +"Why, how much you have improved, child!" said Miss Molly Moss, smiling +blandly. + +"Oh, a'n't she though, neither?" exclaimed Octy and Ulky in a breath, as +they seized her hands, the one clinging to her right and the other to +her left. + +"Come, now, I think you had better let Laura go upstairs and take off +her bonnet and things. Dinner's all ready to go on the table. And I +reckon her appetite is ready also. And, Jacky, you had better go out and +tell John Brooks to put up and feed them horses," said practical Aunt +Kitty, as she took and faced Laura about toward the spare bed-room that +was on the first floor. + +"Uncle wrote me that my brother was here. But I don't see him," said +Laura as she laid off her bonnet. + +"No; he and Charley went to Perch Point fishing yesterday, intending to +stay all night and come back this morning. I reckon they'll soon be +here," said Aunt Kitty. + +Laura washed her face and hands and brushed her hair, put on clean +collar and cuffs, and declared herself ready to join the family. + +Even as she spoke there was the hilarious bustle of an arrival in the +hall outside. + +And as Laura emerged from the room she was caught in the arms of her +brother Alden. + +"My darling sister, I am so delighted to see you!" said the young man, +kissing her joyously. + +"So am I to see you, Alden, dear. But why didn't you accept Mrs. +Cavendish's invitation to come and join our Easter party at Blue +Cliffs?" inquired Laura. + +"My dear, because I thought my duty called me here," gravely replied +Alden. + +"But for a day or two you might have joined us," persisted Laura. + +"No," said Alden. Then turning toward his red-headed fishing comrade he +said: "Here's Cousin Charley waiting to welcome you, Laura." + +And Charley Lytton, blushing and stammering, held out his hand and said: + +"How do you do? I am very glad to see you." + +"And now come to dinner," said Aunt Kitty, opening the dining-room door. + +They all went in and sat down to as fine a dinner as was ever served in +Blue Cliff Hall, or even at the Government House, although this was laid +on a rough pine table, covered with a coarse, though clean linen +table-cloth, and in a room where the walls were whitewashed and the +floors were bare. + +"And now," said Uncle Jacky, as soon as he had served the turtle soup +around to everybody, "I want you to tell me why you couldn't ride the +gray mare, and why you came in a pony-carriage with a slap-up pair of +bloods?" + +"Why, you know, I am a good-for-nothing city-bred girl, Uncle John, and +Miss Cavendish knew it and doubted my ability to ride eighteen or twenty +miles on horseback, and so insisted on my having the pony-carriage," +explained Laura, soothingly. + +"Well, I'm glad it was no worse. I was thinking may be as you despised +the old family mare," said John, somewhat mollified. + +"Oh, no, uncle! Quite the contrary. I did not feel equal to her," +laughed Laura. + +"Well, when must we send that fine equipage back--to-night or tomorrow?" + +"Neither, Uncle John. It is not wanted at Blue Cliffs just at present. +They have the barouche, the brougham and the gig. They can easily spare +the pony-chaise. And Emma insisted on my keeping it here until I should +be ready to return. And I promised her that I would do it." + +"Now I don't like that. That is a patternizing of us a great deal too +much. We've got a carriage of our own, I reckon," said John, sitting +back in his chair and lifting his red head pompously. + +"Now-now-now, John Lytton, don't you be a foo-foo-fool! Carriage! Why, +our carriage is all to pieces! A'n't been fit to use for this six +months! And sin-sin-since the Caverndishers have been so obleeging as to +lend the loan of the pony-shay to Laura, I say let her keep it till she +goes back. And while it's a staying here idle I can use it to go and see +some of my neighbors," said old Mrs. Lytton, in that peremptory way of +hers that did not brook contradiction from any one--even from the master +of the house. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A FLIGHT FROM BLUE CLIFFS. + + +Laura Lytton staid two days with her relatives at Lytton Lodge, and was +just turning over in her mind the difficult subject of breaking the news +of her immediate departure to Uncle Jacky, whom she felt sure would +bitterly oppose it, when, on the evening of the second day, she received +a surprise in the form of a call from Craven Kyte. + +The visitor was shown into the big parlor, where all the family, except +Alden and Charley, were assembled, and engaged in cheerful conversation +around the evening lamp. + +He came in bowing, shook hands with everybody, and then took the seat +that was offered him and drew a letter from his pocket, saying, +humorously: + +"In these latter days, when every one has a mission, it seems to me that +my mission is to fetch and carry letters. I happened to call at Blue +Cliffs this morning and to mention while there that I was going to White +Perch Point and should take Lytton Lodge in my way, and would carry any +message that was desired to Miss Laura Lytton, who I understood was on a +visit there. And then Miss Cavendish requested me to take a letter to +you, which she sat down and wrote right off at once. And here it is, +miss," he concluded, placing the letter in Laura's hands. + +Laura asked leave of her company, and then opened the envelope and read +as follows: + + + "BLUE CLIFFS, Thursday afternoon. + + "MY DEAREST LAURA:--The opportune arrival of Mr. Craven Kyte, on + his way to White Perch Point and Lytton Lodge, furnishes me with + the means of communicating with you sooner than I could manage to + do by mail. + + "You will be very much surprised at what I am about to tell you. + + "_Mary Grey has left Blue Cliffs._ + + "She left so suddenly that I scarcely yet can realize that she + has gone. + + "My grandmother and myself opposed her departure most earnestly. + We used every means in the world but absolute force to keep her + here. + + "But she would go. She said her health and spirits required the + change. You know she was ailing when you left here. + + "Well, she has gone to Charlottesville, where she says she has + some lady friend who keeps a boarding-house for the students of + the University. So if your brother returns to the University he + may have an opportunity of renewing his very pleasant + acquaintance with her. I do not know when, if ever, she will + return. + + "Of course this is her home whenever she pleases to come back. + But I strongly suspect the pretty little widow has grown tired of + our country house. + + "You know she has really no resources within herself for + enjoyment. She cares nothing for the beautiful scenery + surrounding our home, nor for gardening, nor reading, nor + visiting and instructing the poor negroes; nor, in short, for + anything that makes a remote country place enjoyable. And so she + has left us--'It may be for years, and it may be for ever,' as + the song says. + + "But, my darling, don't _you_ desert me just at this time. Come + back, according to your promise. I am wearying for you. Tell that + excessively affectionate and hospitable Uncle John that I need + you so much more than he does. Or show him this letter. All the + Lyttons are gallant and chivalrous gentlemen. He is no exception, + and he will not oppose my wish, I feel sure. I shall expect you + at Blue Cliffs to-morrow evening. + + "My grandmother has just directed me to repeat her invitation to + Mr. Alden Lytton, and to ask him to accompany you back to Blue + Cliffs and make us a visit. I hope he will do so. Mind, I shall + expect you both to-morrow evening. Pray present my respects to + Mr. and Mrs. Lytton and all their kind family. And believe me, + dearest Laura, + + "Ever your own + "EMMA. + + "_Postscript._--I have some strange news to tell you which I can + not trust upon paper. I also expect a new inmate in the family. I + will explain when you come. E." + + +Laura folded her letter and put it into her pocket for the present. + +"They want you to come back, I suppose," said Uncle John, testily. + +"I will show you the letter presently, uncle, so you can read and judge +for yourself," said Laura, with a smile. + +"Well, all I say is this: if they want you to come back want will be +their master. For they can't have you; so there now! I don't mean to let +you leave us until you are obliged to go back to school. I don't +_that_!" said John, nodding his big red head. + +"Did you know Mrs. Grey had left Blue Cliffs?" sorrowfully inquired Mr. +Kyte. + +"Yes. Emma has written to me about her departure. When did she go?" + +"Early this morning. When I got to the house I was very much +disappointed at not seeing her, and beyond measure astonished to hear +that she had started that very morning to Wendover, to catch the first +train to the city, _en route_ for Charlottesville. She will be a great +loss to the domestic circle at Blue Cliffs, I think." + +"And who the mischief is Mrs. Grey?" inquired the sorely puzzled Uncle +John. + +"She was one of the assistant teachers--the drawing-mistress, in +fact--at Mount Ascension. But she lost her situation there. And she +became the guest of Emma Cavendish. Afterward she was engaged to Mr. +Cavendish. But his death prevented the marriage," Laura explained. + +And at this point of the conversation "Mandy" made her appearance at the +door and said that supper was on the table. + +And old Mrs. Lytton arose and invited the company to follow her to the +dining-room. + +After supper, as it was a clear, mild, star-lit evening, Mr. Craven Kyte +remounted his horse and resumed his journey to White Perch Point. + +After his departure, when the family were once more assembled in the big +parlor, Laura took her letter out and put it in the hands of John +Lytton. + +Uncle Jacky read it through, and then quoted a part of it to the family +circle. + +"'Tell that affectionate and hospitable Uncle John that I need you so +much more than he does. Or show him this letter. All the Lyttons are +gallant and chivalrous gentlemen.' That's so!" put in Uncle Jacky, +nodding his red head. "'He is no exception. And he will not oppose my +wish, I feel sure.' Now that is what I call taking a fellow at a +disadvantage!" growled John, holding the letter before his eyes and +staring at it. "Well, I suppose I must let you go, Laura, seeing she +makes such a point of it. But they want Alden, too. And Alden they can't +have! Where is the fellow, anyhow? And why wasn't he at supper?" + +"He and Charley are down at Uncle Bob's house, getting bait for another +fishing match to-morrow. I told Mandy to keep the supper hot for them," +answered Aunt Kitty. + +And soon after this the little family, who kept very early hours, +separated to go to rest. + +Laura and her two cousins were the first to leave the room. + +Aunt Kitty and Miss Molly followed. + +When they were gone old Mrs. Lytton turned upon her son and said: + +"Jacky, I ho-ho-hope you a'n't a goin' to be sich a contrairy fool as to +stand into the light of your own flesh and blood?" + +"Why, what the mischief do you mean, mother? I a'n't a standing into +nobody's light, much less my own flesh and blood's!" exclaimed John, +raising his red head. + +"Yes-yes-yes, you are too! You're a standing into your own dear +nephew's, Alden Lytton's, light, in opposing of his going to Blue Cliffs +along of his sister to-morrow," complained the old lady. + +"Riddle-me-riddle-me-ree! I know no more of what you're talking than the +fish of Zuyder Zee!" + +"Why-why-why then this is what I'm a talking about. Can-can-can't you +see that Emma Cavendish is perfectly wrapped up in Laura Lytton? She's +as fon-fon-fond of her as ever she can be. And Emma Cavendish is the +most beau-beau-beautiful girl and the richest heiress in the whole +state. And Alden Lytton is one of the han-han-handsomest young men I +ever saw. And if he goes with his sister to Blue Cliffs--_don't you +see?_" + +"No, I don't," said honest, obtuse John. + +"Well, then, the gal that is so fond of the sis-sis-sister might grow to +be equally fond of the handsome bro-bro-brother. _Now do you see?_" + +"Oh, I see!" exclaimed John, with a look of profound enlightenment. + +"And I hope you won't go and stand into the light of your own dear +nephew by raising up of any objections to his going along of his sister +to Blue Cliffs," added the old lady. + +"_I_ stand in the light of my own poor, dear, dead brother's son! +'Tain't likely!" exclaimed Uncle Jacky, with an injured air. + +"No, John, I don't think it is. And so, I hope, instead of +oppo-po-po-opposing on him, you'll encourage him to go along of his +sister to Blue Cliffs to-morrow," said the old lady. + +"Mother, I shall do what is right," answered John. + +"And lookee here, Jacky! Don't you let on to Alden that any on us have +such a thought as him going there to court the heiress, for ef you do, +he's so high and mighty he'd see us all furder fust before he'd budge a +step to go to Blue Cliffs, sister or no sister. So mind what I tell you, +John." + +"Mother, I will do all that is right," repeated John, with pompous +dignity. + +"I only hope as you will. And so good-night, my son," said the old +woman, as she lighted her bed-room taper and left the room. + +Laura came down-stairs early the next morning, and found her brother +alone in the big parlor. + +And then she showed him Emma Cavendish's letter. + +And when he had read it through, she said, quite piteously: + +"Alden, I do want to go back and spend the rest of the Easter holidays +at Blue Cliffs, for I love Emma Cavendish better than anybody else in +the whole world except yourself. And I hate to disappoint her. But I +equally hate to leave you, Alden. So I do wish you would make up your +mind to accept Mrs. Cavendish's invitation and accompany me to Blue +Cliffs." + +"Why-why-why of course he will go, Laura! Do you 'spect your own dear +brother is a going to let you go off alone, by your own self, of a +journey, when he's invi-vi-vited to go along of you?" exclaimed old Mrs. +Lytton, who entered at that moment, and spoke up before Alden Lytton +could either accept or refuse. + +"Certainly he will. Why, nephew's a gentleman, I reckon, and he wouldn't +refuse to escort his own dear sister, when he is requested to do so," +added Uncle John, as he strode into the room. + +Alden Lytton smiled and bowed. + +In truth, now that the secret obstacle to his visit to Blue Cliffs was +removed by the departure of Mrs. Grey for an indefinitely long absence, +he felt no objection at all to accompanying his sister thither. So, +still smiling, he answered: + +"Why, you all seem to think that I shall make some difficulty about +complying with my sister's wishes. But I shall do nothing of the sort. +On the contrary, I shall attend my sister with great pleasure." + +"That's you!" exclaimed old Mrs. Lytton. + +"Bully boy!" heartily cried Uncle Jacky. + +"I thank you, Alden," said Laura, quietly, giving him her hand. + +"Yes, that's all very well; but--" began Charley, who had joined the +circle. + +"But what? What's the matter with you?" demanded his father. + +Charley, seeing all eyes turned upon him, and most especially Laura's, +blushed crimson and remained silent. + +"I had arranged to go with Charley this morning to fish for trout in the +Mad River," laughingly explained Alden. + +"Oh, well, it can't be helped! You feel disappointed, of course, my boy; +but everything must give way to the will of the ladies, Charley. 'All +the Lyttons are gallant and chivalrous gentlemen,'" said Uncle Jacky, +proudly, quoting the words of Emma's letter. "And we are no exception to +the rule. Miss Cavendish is anxious for the society of Laura. Laura +wishes the escort of her brother, who has also been invited to Blue +Cliffs. We must not oppose the will of the ladies," concluded John, +bowing to his niece with pompous deference. + +Poor Charley blushed purpler than ever, and holding down his red +head--like his father's--he mumbled something about "not wishing to +oppose no ladies whatsoever." + +"Now, then, what time are you expected at Blue Cliffs?" inquired Uncle +Jacky, turning to Laura. + +"This evening, uncle. Don't you remember? You read the letter." + +"Oh, yes! Well, then, you needn't leave till after dinner, Kitty," he +called to his wife, "order dinner for twelve o'clock noon, sharp! I want +Alden and Laura, if they _must_ leave, to go with full stomachs: do you +hear?" + +"Why of course, Jacky! Don't we always have dinner at twelve o'clock?" +laughingly inquired Aunt Kitty. + +"Well, then, mind that to-day a'n't an exception to the rule. Now +where's that boy Taters?" + +"Here I am, Marse John," said Mithridates, making his appearance with +an armful of wood, which he threw upon the fire; for the April morning +was chilly. + +"Taters," said Uncle John, "you see to having the pony-chaise at the +door at half-past twelve precisely to take Mr. Alden and Miss Laura to +Blue Cliffs." + +"Yes, Marse John." + +"And, Taters, you saddle Brown Bill to ride and wait on them. You hear?" + +Taters turned dark-gray and staggered to a chair and sat down. + +"Why, what's the matter with the fool now?" demanded Uncle John. + +"Oh, Marse John, don't send me to Blue Cliffs no more, sir--please +don't!" + +"Why--why shouldn't I send you there, you idiot?" + +"Oh, Marse John, I done see the sperrit of my young mist'ess there; and +if I see it ag'in I shall die--'deed I shall, sir!" exclaimed the +shuddering boy. + +"What the mischief does he mean, Laura? You look as if you understood +him," inquired John Lytton. + +Laura laughingly told the story of the supposed spirit, adding that it +must have been a pure hallucination on the part of the boy. + +"Well, anyhow, I'll not send him with you if he's takin' to makin' a +fool of himself. It wouldn't do, you know," said John. + +"And really, uncle, we need no one at all as an outrider," said Laura. + +After an early and substantial dinner, Alden and Laura took leave of +their kind relatives and entered the pony-carriage, whose dashing little +grays, driven by old Jerome, were to take them to Blue Cliffs. + +But we must precede them thither, to find out what it was that had +driven Mary Grey from the house in such very great haste. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +A STARTLING EVENT. + + What see you in these papers, that you lose + So much of your complexion? Look you how you change! + Your cheeks are paper!--why, what hear you there + That hath so cowarded and chased your blood + Out of appearance? --SHAKESPEARE. + + +It was on the evening of the very same day that saw the departure of +Laura Lytton for Lytton Lodge that Peter, the post-office messenger of +Blue Cliffs, returned from Wendover, bringing with him a well-filled +mail-bag. + +He took it into the drawing-room, where Miss Cavendish and her guests, +the Rev. Dr. Jones, Miss Electra, and Mrs. Grey, were gathered around +the center-table, under the light of the chandelier. + +Emma Cavendish unlocked the mail-bag and turned its contents out upon +the table. + +"Newspapers and magazines only, I believe. No letters. Help yourselves, +friends. There are paper-knives on the pen-tray. And in the absence of +letters, there is a real pleasure in unfolding a fresh newspaper and +cutting the leaves of a new magazine," said the young lady, as she +returned the empty bag to the messenger. + +But her companions tumbled over the mail still in the vain hope of +finding letters. + +"None for me; yet I did hope to get one from my new manager at Beresford +Manors," muttered Dr. Jones, in a tone of disappointment. + +"And none for me either, though I do think the girls at Mount Ascension +might write to me," pouted Electra. + +"And of course there are none for me! There never are! No one ever +writes to me. The poor have no correspondents. I did not expect a +letter, and I am not disappointed," murmured Mary Grey, with that +charming expression, between a smile and a sigh, that she had always +found so effective. + +"Well, there is no letter for any one, it seems, so none of us have +cause to feel slighted by fortune more than others," added Emma +Cavendish, cheerfully. + +But Peter, the post-office boy, looked from one to the other, with his +black eyes growing bigger and bigger, as he felt with his hand in the +empty mail-bag and exclaimed: + +"I'clar's to de law der was a letter for some uns. Miss Emmer, 'cause I +see de pos'marser put it in de bag wid his own hands, which it were a +letter wid a black edge all 'round de outside of it, and a dob o' black +tar, or somethink, onto the middle o' the back of it." + +As the boy spoke, the Rev. Dr. Jones began again to turn over the +magazines and newspapers until he found the letter, which had slipped +between the covers of the _Edinboro' Review_. + +"It is for you, my dear," he said, as he passed the missive across the +table to Miss Cavendish. + +"I wonder from whom it comes? The handwriting is quite unfamiliar to me. +And the postmark is New York, where I have no correspondents whatever," +said Emma, in surprise, as she broke the black seal. + +"Oh, maybe it's a circular from some merchant who has heard of the great +Alleghany heiress," suggested Electra. + +"You will permit me?" said Emma, glancing at her companions as she +unfolded her letter. + +And then, as one and another nodded and smiled and returned to their +magazines and papers. Emma Cavendish glanced at the signature of her +strange letter, started with surprise, gazed at it a second time more +attentively, and then turned hurriedly and began to read it. + +And as she read her face paled and flushed, and she glanced from time to +time at the faces of her companions; but they were all engaged with +pamphlets and papers, except Mrs. Grey, whom Emma perceived to be +furtively watching her. + +The strange letter was written in rather a wild and rambling style of +composition, as if the writer were a little brain sick. It ran as +follows: + + + "BLANK HOTEL, New York City, April 27th, 18--. + + "MY DEAR MISS CAVENDISH:--Our near blood relationship might + warrant me in addressing you as my dear Emma. But I refrain, + because you would not understand the familiarity any more than + you recognize this handwriting, which must seem as strange to you + as my face would seem if I were to present myself bodily before + you; for you have never set eyes upon me, and perhaps have never + even heard my name mentioned or my existence alluded to. + + "And yet I am one of your family, near of kindred to yourself; in + fact, your own dear mother's only sister. + + "'We were two daughter's of one race, + _She_ was the fairer in the face.' + + Yes, she was literally so. Your mother was a beautiful blonde, as + I have been told that you, her only child, also are. I am--or, + rather, I _was_ before my hair turned white with sorrow--a very + dark brunette. + + "If you have ever heard of me at all, which I doubt--for I know + that at home my once loved and cherished name + + "'Was banished from each lip and ear, + Like words of wickedness or fear'-- + + but if you ever heard of me at all you must have heard of that + willful love marriage which separated me from all my family. + + "Since that ill-omened marriage an unbroken succession of + misfortunes have attended my husband and myself until they + culminated in the most crushing calamity of our lives--the loss + of our dear and only daughter in a manner worse than death. + + "Soon after that awful bereavement our creditors foreclosed the + mortgage on our estate at White Perch Point, and sold the place + over our heads. + + "And my poor husband and myself went out to California, childless + and almost penniless, to begin life anew. + + "We began in a very humble way indeed. As he was familiar with + hotel business he got a place as bar-tender in a San Francisco + hotel; and soon afterward I got a place in the same house, to + look after and keep in repair the bed and table linen. And we + lodged in the hotel, in a small attic chamber, and took our meals + in the pantry. + + "But we were both utterly broken down in mind and body, as well + as in estate. + + "He soon sank into a consumption and had to give up his place. I + hired a room in a small house and took him to it. I still + retained my place at the hotel, because my salary there was the + only support we had. But I lived there no longer. I used to go in + the morning, make the daily inspection of the linen, and bring + home what needed mending; and working all the afternoon and half + the night at my husband's bedside. + + "But rent and food and fuel, physic and physicians' fees were + very costly in San Francisco. And with all my work I fell deeper + and deeper into debt. + + "At length my poor husband died. And it took the proceeds of the + sale of all our little personal effects to pay for the humblest + sort of funeral. + + "And I was left entirely destitute. Then my courage gave way. I + wept myself so blind that I could no longer mend the linen at + the hotel, or even see whether it wanted mending. Then I fell + sick with sorrow and had to be taken to the hospital. + + "At the end of three months I was dismissed. But where could I + go? What could I do, broken in health and nearly blind as I was? + + "I must have perished then and there but for the timely + assistance of a young gold-digger who happened to hear about me + when he came up to the city from his distant mining-camp. + + "He was a very queer young man, whom his few friends called crazy + on account of his lonely and ascetic manner of life, and his + lavish liberality. + + "He sought me out to relieve my wants. And upon my telling him + that all I wanted was to go home to die, he bought me a whole + state-room to myself in the first cabin of the 'Golden City,' + bound from San Francisco to New York. And then he bought me an + outfit in clothing, good enough for a duke's widow. And he gave + me a sum of money besides, and started me fairly and comfortably + on my voyage. + + "I reached New York three days ago. But my strength continues to + fail and my funds to waste. I have no power to work, even if I + could procure anything to do. And I have not money enough to + support me a month longer. + + "I do not like to go into an alms-house. Yet what am I to do? + + "But why do I write to you? you may naturally inquire. + + "Why? Because, although a perfect stranger, you are, after all, + my niece, my only sister's only child, my own only blood + relation. And 'blood is thicker than water.' + + "'I can not work; to beg I am ashamed.' + + "I do not, therefore, beg, even of you. I do not so much as make + any suggestion to you. I tell you the facts of the case, and I + leave you to act upon them, or to ignore them entirely, at your + pleasure. + + "I do not even know whether I may venture to sign myself your + aunt, KATHERINE FANNING." + + +Emma Cavendish read this letter through to the end; then she glanced at +her companions, who were still all absorbed in the perusal of their +journals. + +Even Mrs. Grey was now lost in a magazine; but it was _Les Modes de +Paris_, and contained plates and descriptions of all the new spring +fashions. + +So Miss Cavendish, seeing her friends all agreeably occupied and +amused, returned to her singular letter and recommenced and read it +carefully through to the end once more. + +At the conclusion of the second reading she looked up and spoke to the +Rev. Dr. Jones, saying: + +"Are you reading anything very interesting in that _Quarterly Review_, +my dear uncle?" + +"Well, yes, my child--an article entitled 'Have Animals Reason?'" + +"Reason for _what_?" naively inquired Mary Grey, looking up from her +magazine of fashion. + +Every one smiled except Dr. Jones, who condescended to explain that the +subject under discussion was whether animals were gifted with reasoning +faculties. + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Grey, and returned to her _Modes_. + +"You needn't read any more on that subject, grandpa; I can answer that +question for you, or any other inquirer. All intelligent animals, +whether they go upon two feet or four, or upon wings or fins, have +reason just in proportion to their intelligence. And all idiotic +animals, whether they go upon two feet or four, or wings or fins, lack +reason just in proportion to their idiocy. Lor'! why I have seen human +creatures at the Idiot Asylum with less intellect than cats. And I have +seen some horses with more intelligence than some legislators. You can't +generalize on these subjects, grandpa," said Miss Electra, with an air +of conviction. + +The Rev. Dr. Jones stared, much as a hen might stare to see her own +ducklings take to the water. And then he turned to Emma Cavendish and +said: + +"Whether animals have reason or not, my dear, _you_ had some reason for +interrupting me. Now what was it?" + +"To ask you to read this, sir," said Miss Cavendish, putting her letter +in the hands of her uncle. + +He took it and read it slowly through, muttering from time to time: + +"Dear, dear, how distressing! Bless my soul alive! Well, well, well!" + +And he glanced uneasily at Mary Grey, who fidgeted and flushed under his +observation. + +At length he finished and folded the letter and returned it to Miss +Cavendish, with the inquiry: + +"Well, my dear, what are you going to do in the premises?" + +"I shall write immediately and ask my aunt to come here and make this +her home," answered Emma, promptly. + +At these words Mary Grey started, caught her breath with a gasp, and +quickly whirled her chair around so as to bring her back to the light +and throw her face in deep shadow. + +"What's the matter with you?" inquired Electra. + +"The light makes my eyes ache; that is all. You know I have not quite +got rid of my cold yet," answered the widow in a low, faltering tone +that might have attracted the attention of Miss Cavendish had not that +young lady's thoughts been engaged with the subject of her letter. + +"You will consult your grandmother before making this important addition +to the household, I presume?" inquired the old gentleman. + +"Yes, of course; but I am certain beforehand of my dear grandma's +consent and co-operation in such an evident Christian duty," answered +Miss Cavendish. + +And then she turned to her young friends, to whom she thought some +explanation was due, and she added: + +"I have news in this letter that has much surprised and pained me. It is +from my aunt, Mrs. Fanning. She has lost her husband, and has suffered +very severe reverses of fortune. She is at this time alone in New York +City, and in failing health. I shall write for her to come and live with +us. And not to leave her a day in suspense, I shall telegraph from +Wendover to-morrow morning." + +"I'm glad she's coming. The more the merrier," said Electra, gayly. + +Mrs. Grey said nothing. She arose as if to leave the room, tottered +forward and fell to the floor in a dead swoon. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE SIREN AND THE SAGE. + + +All started to their feet and rushed to the prostrate woman's +assistance. + +She was but a slight creature, and Dr. Jones lifted her easily and laid +her on one of the sofas. + +Electra flew upstairs to bring down a bottle of Florida water. + +Emma patted and rubbed her hands. + +Dr. Jones bathed her brow with cold water, sighing and muttering to +himself: + +"Poor girl! Poor unfortunate girl!" + +"I take blame to myself," said Emma. "She is evidently much iller than I +thought. I ought not to have persuaded her to leave her room so soon +after her cold. It is my fault." + +At that instant Electra ran in with the Florida water and dashed a +liberal portion of it over the head and face of the fainting woman. + +The shock and the penetrating odor combined to rouse her from +insensibility; and with a few gasps she recovered her consciousness; +though her face, after one sudden flush, settled into a deadly paleness. + +"My poor dear, how are you?" inquired Emma Cavendish, kindly. + +"Dying, I think; dying, I hope! Let some one help me to my room," she +murmured. + +Dr. Jones at once lifted her in his arms and bore her upstairs, preceded +by Electra, who flew on before to show the way to Mary Grey's room, and +followed by Emma Cavendish, who still blamed herself for the invalid's +supposed relapse. + +Dr. Jones laid her on her bed, and was about to leave her to the care of +Emma and Electra, when she seized his hand and drew him down to her face +and said: + +"I wish to speak to you for a moment _now_. Send Miss Cavendish and Miss +Coroni out of the room for a little while." + +"My dear children, go away for a moment. Mrs. Grey wishes to speak to me +alone," said Dr. Jones. + +And Emma and Electra softly retired, with the belief that Mary Grey only +wished to consult the minister on religious subjects. + +As soon as the door was closed behind them Mary Grey seized the old +man's hand and, fixing her great black eyes fiercely upon him, demanded: + +"_Do they suspect?_" + +"No; certainly not." + +"Did you drop no word during my swoon that might have led them to +suspect?" + +"Not one syllable." + +"I thank you then!" she exclaimed, with a long sigh of relief. + +"But, my child, was that all you wished to talk to me about?" + +"That was all, except this: to beg you still to be silent as the grave +in regard to my identity." + +"My child, your words disappoint and grieve me. I did hope that you +asked this private interview with the design to consult me about the +propriety of making yourself known." + +"Making myself known!" she exclaimed, with a half-suppressed shriek, as +she started up upon her elbow and stared at the speaker. "Making myself +known!" + +"The opportunity, my dear child, is such an excellent one. And, of +course, you know that if Mrs. Fanning comes here--as she must; for there +is no other refuge open to her--if she comes and finds you here, +discovery is inevitable." + +"But she will not find me here! She shall not! I could not look her in +the face. Sooner than do that, I will hurl myself from the turnpike +bridge into the Mad River!" she fiercely exclaimed. + +"My child, do not talk so wickedly. It is frightful to hear such +things!" cried the old man, shuddering. + +"You will _see_ such things, if you do not mind. I am quite capable of +doing what I said, for I am tired and sick of this life of constant +dependence, mortification and terror--an insupportable life!" she wildly +exclaimed. + +"Because, my poor girl, it is a life of concealment, in constant dread +of discovery and the humiliation attending discovery. Change all that +and your life will be happier. Trust in those who are nearest to you, +and make yourself, your name, your errors, and your sufferings and +repentance fully known. Emma Cavendish is the ruling power in this +house, and she is a pure, noble, magnanimous spirit. She would protect +you," pleaded the old man, taking her hand. + +"Oh, yes, she is all that! Do you think that makes it any easier for me +to shock her with the story of my own folly, weakness and cowardice? Oh, +no, no! I could not bear the look of her clear, truthful blue eyes! And +I would not! There; it is useless to talk to me, Doctor Jones! There are +some things that I can not do. I can not stay here!" + +"My poor, poor child, whither will you go? Stay! Now I think of it, I +can send you to my house at Beresford Manors. That shall be your home, +if you will accept it. But what excuse can you make for leaving this +place so abruptly?" + +"You are very kind, Doctor Jones. You are very kind. But a moment's +reflection will teach you that I could not accept your hospitality. You +have no lady, I believe, at Beresford Manors? No one there except the +colored servants? Therefore, you see, it would not be proper for me to +go there," said Mary Grey, affecting a prudery that she did not feel, +and objecting to the place only because she did not choose to bury +herself in a house more lonely, dreary and deserted, if possible, than +Blue Cliff Hall itself. + +"Then where can you go, my poor girl?" compassionately questioned the +old minister. + +"I have thought of that. Sudden as this emergency is, I am not quite +unprepared for it. This crisis that I feared _might_ come _has_ come, +that is all. Only it has come in a far different manner from what I +feared. But the result must be the same. I must leave the house +immediately. And you must help to smooth my way toward leaving it." + +"But whither will you go, poor shorn lamb?" + +"I have planned out all that, in view of this very contingency. I will +go to Charlottesville, where I have a lady friend who keeps a +boarding-house for the University students. I can stay with her, and +make myself useful in return for board and lodging, until I get +something to do for a living. That is all settled. I asked you for this +interview only to satisfy myself that no hint of my identity had been +dropped, and no suspicion of it excited, during my swoon; and, further, +to beg you to keep my miserable secret hereafter, as you have hitherto." + +"I have satisfied you, I hope, upon all those subjects." + +"Yes; and I thank you." + +"But still I can not abandon the hope that you will yet heed good +counsel and make yourself known to your best friends," pleaded the old +man. + +But Mary Grey shook her head. + +Dr. Jones coaxed, argued, lectured, all in vain. + +At length, worn out by his importunities, Mary Grey, to gain her own +ends, artfully replied: + +"Well, dear, good, wise friend, if ever I _do_ gain courage to make +myself known to my family, I must do it from some little distance, and +by letter, so as to give them time to get over the shock of the +revelation, before I could dare to face them. Think of it yourself. How +could we bear to look each other in the eyes while telling and hearing +such a story?" + +"I believe you are right _so_ far. Yes, in _that_ view of the case it +is, perhaps, better that you should go away and then write," admitted +Dr. Jones. + +"And you will aid me in my efforts to get away at once and without +opposition? Tell them that it is better for my health and spirits that I +should go away for a while, and go immediately--as it really is, you +know. Will you do this?" + +"Yes, I will do it, in the hope that your nervous system may be +strengthened, and you may find courage to do the duty that lies before +you," said the doctor, as he pressed her hand and left the room. + +Dr. Jones went down-stairs to the drawing-room, where the young ladies +waited in anxious suspense. + +Emma Cavendish arose and looked at him in silent questioning. + +"There is no cause for alarm, my dear Emma. Your friend will do very +well. No, you need not go up to her room. She requires absolutely +nothing but to be left to repose. You can look in on her, if you like, +just before you go to bed. That will be time enough," explained Dr. +Jones, as he took his seat at the table and took up his _Review_ again +as if nothing had happened to interrupt his reading. + +Emma Cavendish breathed a sigh of relief and resumed her seat. She and +Electra read or conversed in a low voice over their magazines until the +hour of retiring. + +Electra was the first to close her pamphlet, as with an undisguised +yawn, for which her school-mistress would have rebuked her, she declared +that she could not keep her eyes open a minute longer, much less read a +line, and that she was going to bed. + +Dr. Jones, with as much courtesy as if he had not been her grandfather, +arose and lighted her bedroom candle and put it in her hand. + +And she kissed him a drowsy good-night and went upstairs. + +Emma was about to follow, when the doctor motioned her to resume her +seat. + +She did so, and waited. + +"I want a word with you about Mrs. Grey, my dear Emma. She is very much +out of health." + +"I feared so," replied Emma Cavendish. + +"Or, to speak with more literal truth, I should say that her nervous +system is very much disordered." + +"Yes." + +"She is full of sick fancies. She wishes to go away for a while to get a +change of scene." + +"I will go with her to any watering-place she desires to visit, in the +season," said Emma Cavendish, readily. + +"Yes; but, my dear, she must have this change now, immediately." + +"I would go with her now if I could leave my guests. You know I have +Electra here, and Laura will return in two days perhaps, with her +brother also." + +"My good child, she does not ask or need any attendance. She wants to go +away by herself for a while. She wants to go to an old lady friend in +Charlottesville." + +"I have heard her lately speak of such a friend, and of her intention, +some day, to visit her." + +"Well, she wishes to go now, immediately, but is afraid to mention her +desire lest it should meet with opposition, which she has no nerve to +contest." + +"Dear uncle, how strange that she should feel this way! Why, she is not +a prisoner here! And if she wishes to leave us for a short or a long +time she can do so." + +"Of coarse she can, my dear; but she is full of sick fancies. And my +advice to you is that you let her go at once. To-morrow morning, if she +wishes." + +"Why certainly, Uncle Beresford! I have neither the power nor the will +to prevent her." + +"So let it be then, my dear. And now good-night," said the doctor, +taking his candle to leave the room. + +Thus the matter was settled. + +But the next day old Mrs. Cavendish, Electra, and, in fact, the whole +house, were thrown into a state of consternation at the announcement of +Mrs. Grey's immediate departure. + +When or how she had managed to get her personal effects together, +whether she had kept them packed up for the emergency, or whether she +had sat up all night to pack them, I do not know; but it is certain that +by seven o'clock that morning she had three enormous Saratoga trunks +packed, strapped and locked ready for the wagon that she asked for to +take them to the railway station. + +It was not until her luggage was in the wagon, and the carriage was +waiting for her at the door, and she herself in her traveling-suit and +hat, that she went to bid the old lady good-bye. + +Mrs. Cavendish had been informed by Emma of the intended abrupt +departure of Mary Grey, and she had begun to oppose it with all her +might. + +But Emma endeavored to convince her that the change was vitally +necessary to Mary Grey's health and strength. + +So now when the traveler entered the old lady's room the latter feebly +arose to her feet, holding on to the arm of her chair, while she +faltered: + +"Mary--Mary, this is so sudden, so shocking, so sorrowful, that I almost +think it will make me ill! Why must you go, my dear?" + +"Sweet mother--may I call you so?--sweet mother, I will tell _you_ what +I did not like to tell dear Emma, for fear it might distress her; she is +so sensitive, you know!" murmured the siren, sitting down and tenderly +caressing the old lady. + +"Tell me then, my love, tell me anything you like," said Mrs. Cavendish, +weeping. + +"Well, you know that dear old lady friend in Charlottesville, of whom I +spoke to you a week or so ago?" + +"Ah, yes! The bishop's widow, who is reduced to keeping a student's +boarding-house to help support her fifteen children," sighed the ancient +dame. + +"Yes, and my dear dead mother's dearest friend. Well, I have heard that +she is in a dying condition and desires above all things to see me +before she departs. That's what shocked me so severely as to make me +quite ill. But I never should forgive myself if by any delay of mine she +really should depart without having her last wish gratified. Do you +blame me for hurrying away?" + +"No, no, no, my child--my own lovely child! I do not wonder my poor +Charley worshiped you, you are so very good! Go, Mary, my darling! But +hurry back as soon as possible." + +"Yes, sweet mother, I will. And now, not a word to Emma, or to any one +else who might tell her of these distressing circumstances." + +"No, no; certainly not! How thoughtful you are, for one so young, my +good child! Bend down and take my blessing." + +Mary Grey bowed her head. + +The venerable lady placed her withered hands upon the bent head, raised +her eyes to heaven, and solemnly invoked a blessing on the traitress. + +And then Mary Grey arose, kissed her in silence, and left the room. + +And thus they parted. + +In the hall below she had to part with Emma and Electra. + +"We hope you will return to us very soon, dear Mrs. Grey," said Emma +Cavendish, as she kissed her good-bye. + +"I hope so too, my dear," answered the widow. + +"But you will scarcely get back before I return to school, so ours must +be a very long good-bye," said Electra, as she also kissed the "parting +guest." + +"'Tis true, 'tis pity," said Mrs. Grey, between a smile and a sigh. + +Dr. Jones then handed her into the carriage, and followed and took a +seat by her side, for he was to attend her to the station and see her +off on her journey. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +EMMA'S VICTORY. + + +When Emma Cavendish turned back into the house she went up into the old +lady's room with the intention of breaking to her the news of Katherine +Fanning's widowhood and destitution, and of her own desire to invite her +to come and live at Blue Cliffs. + +She found Mrs. Cavendish just finishing her nice breakfast with Aunt +Moll in attendance upon her. + +"Here, take away the service now," said the old lady, putting down her +empty coffee-cup. "And now, Emma, I am very glad you have come. I feel +quite low about parting with Mary. What an angel she is!" + +"Cheer up, grandma! We shall have another addition to our family circle +soon," said Emma, pleasantly. + +"Who is coming, my dear?" inquired Mrs. Cavendish, with all the +curiosity of a recluse. + +"Oh, another lady!" slowly answered Miss Cavendish, to give Aunt Moll +time to get out of the room with her breakfast tray. + +And when the old woman had shut the door behind her, Emma said: + +"Dear grandma, you will be very much surprised to hear who it is that is +coming." + +And when Mrs. Cavendish looked up surprised indeed, as well as somewhat +alarmed, Emma began and told her of the letter she had received from +Mrs. Fanning; of her widowhood and destitution, and of her recent +arrival in New York. + +"All this is very distressing, my dear Emma, but you see in it only the +natural consequences of a low marriage," said the old aristocrat. + +"But the marriage is broken by death, dear grandma, and the error is +atoned for by much suffering," said Emma, gently. + +"Well, my dear, what does the poor woman want us to do?" inquired Mrs. +Cavendish. + +"She asks nothing, grandma. She simply writes to me, her sister's +child--" + +"Her _half_-sister's child!" haughtily interrupted the old lady. + +"It is the same thing, grandma. Her half-sister's child, and her only +living relative--" + +"Her only living relative?" again interrupted the old lady. "Where is +her own misguided daughter?" + +"Supposed to be dead, dear grandma. Certainly dead to her," said Emma, +sadly. + +"Well, go on, child; go on." + +"She writes to me, I say, and tells me of her situation--widowed, +childless, homeless and utterly destitute in a strange city; but she +asks nothing--suggests nothing." + +"Well, and what would you do--you, her only living relative?" inquired +the ancient dame in a tone approaching sarcasm. + +"I would restore to her all that she has lost, if I could. I would give +her back husband, daughter, home and competence," said Emma. + +"But you can't do it any more than you can give her back her lost +caste," interrupted the old lady. + +Emma felt discouraged but did not yield her point. + +"No, dear grandma," she answered, sorrowfully, "I can not give her back +her husband, her child, or her wealth; but I can give my mother's +suffering sister a home and a friend." + +Madam Cavendish lowered her gold-rimmed spectacles from her cap frills +to her eyes, placed her lace-mittened hands on the arms of her chair and +looked straight and steadily into the face of her granddaughter. + +It was extremely disheartening, and Emma dropped her eyes before that +severe gaze and bowed her head meekly. + +But Emma, though she was the young girl, was in the right; and Madam +Cavendish, though she was an ancient and venerable dame, was in the +wrong. + +Emma knew this quite well, and in the argument that ensued she lovingly, +respectfully, yet unflinchingly, maintained her point. + +At length Madam Cavendish yielded, saying, scornfully: "Well, my dear, +it is more your affair than mine. Invite her here if you will. I wash my +hands of it. Only don't ask me to be intimate with the inn-keeper's +widow; for I won't. And that's all about it." + +"My dear grandma, you shall never see or hear of her, if you do not like +to do so. You seldom leave your two rooms. And she shall never enter +either unless you send for her," answered Emma. + +"So be it then, my dear. And now let me go to sleep. I always want to +go to sleep after an argument," said Madam Cavendish, closing her eyes +and sinking back in her arm-chair. + +Emma Cavendish stooped and kissed her, and then left the room. + +In fifteen minutes after she had written and dispatched to the office at +Wendover a telegram to this effect: + + + "BLUE CLIFFS, April 29th, 18-- + + "DEAR AUNT:--Come home to me here as soon as possible. I will + write to-day. EMMA CAVENDISH." + + +And in the course of that day she did write a kind and comforting letter +to the bereaved and suffering woman, expressing much sympathy with her +in her affliction, inviting her to come and live at Blue Cliffs for the +rest of her life, and promising all that an affectionate niece could do +to make her life easy and pleasant. + +Miss Cavendish had but just finished this letter, when Mr. Craven Kyte +was announced. + +Emma, who was always kind to the ward of her late father, at once +received him and sent for Electra to help to entertain him. + +But notwithstanding the presence of two beautiful girls, one the fairest +blonde, the other the brightest brunette, and both kind and affable in +their manners to him, the young man was restless and anxious, until at +length, with fierce blushes and faltering tones, he expressed a hope +that Mrs. Grey was well, and made an inquiry if she were in. + +Electra laughed. + +Emma told him that Mrs. Grey had gone for change of air to +Charlottesville, and would be absent for some time. She also +added--although the young man had not once thought of inquiring for Miss +Lytton--that Laura had likewise gone to visit her uncle's family at +Lytton Lodge. + +The foolish young victim of the widow's false wiles looked very much +disappointed and depressed, yet had sense enough left him to remember to +say that, as he himself was on the road to Perch Point and should take +Lytton Lodge on his way, he would be happy to convey any letter or +message from the ladies of Blue Cliffs to Miss Lytton. + +Emma thanked him and availed herself of his offer by sending a letter, +as we have seen. + +And then she went about the house, attended by old Moll, selecting and +arranging rooms for her new-expected guests. + +The next afternoon she was quite surprised by another call from Craven +Kyte. He was shown into the parlor, where she sat at work with Electra. + +"You have come back quickly; but we are glad to see you," she said, as +she arose to shake hands with him. + +"Yes, miss," he answered, after bowing to her and to Electra; "yes, +miss, I reached Perch Point last night, and I left it early this +morning. In going I called at Lytton Lodge and delivered your letter, +miss." + +"The family at the lodge are well, I hope." + +"All well, miss. And as I passed by the gate this morning the man +Taters, who was at work on the lawn, told me that Mr. Alden and Miss +Laura Lytton would leave for this place at noon." + +"Then they will be here to-night," said Electra. + +"Yes, miss." + +"Will you stay and spend the afternoon and evening with us, Mr. Kyte? +Shall I ring and have your horse put up?" inquired Miss Cavendish. + +"No, thank you, miss. I must get back to Wendover to-night. Fact is, I'm +on the wing again," said the young man, stammering and blushing. +"Business of importance calls me to--to Charlottesville, miss. So if you +should have a letter or a message to send to--to Mrs. Grey I should be +happy to take it." + +Emma Cavendish and Electra Coroni looked at each other in comic +surprise. + +"Why, you must be an amateur postman, Mr. Kyte! To fetch and carry +letters seems to be your mission on earth," laughed Electra. + +"So it has often been said of me, miss. And if you or Miss Cavendish +have any to send, I should be happy to take them," answered the young +man, quite seriously. + +"I have none," said Electra. + +"Nor I, thank you," added Emma; "but you may, if you please, give my +love to Mrs. Grey, and tell her we shall feel anxious until we hear of +her safe arrival and improved health." + +"I will do so with much pleasure," said Mr. Kyte, rising to take leave. + +As soon as the visitor had left them the two young ladies exchanged +glances of droll amazement. + +"As sure as you live, Emma, the business of importance that takes him to +Charlottesville is Mrs. Mary Grey! He's taken in and done for, poor +wretch! I shouldn't wonder a bit if he sold out his share in the fancy +dry-goods store at Wendover and invested all his capital in college fees +and entered himself as a student at the University, for the sake of +being near his enchantress," said Electra. + +"Poor boy!" sighed Emma, with genuine pity. + +And before they could exchange another word, the sound of +carriage-wheels at the gate announced the arrival of Alden and Laura +Lytton. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE FALSE AND THE TRUE LOVE. + + Did woman's charms thy youth beguile, + And did the fair one faithless prove? + Hath she betrayed thee with a smile + And sold thy love? + + Live! 'Twas a false, bewildering fire: + Too often love's insidious dart + Thrills the fond soul with wild desire, + But kills the heart. + + A nobler love shall warm thy breast, + A brighter maiden faithful prove, + And thy ripe manhood shall be blest + In woman's love. + --MONTGOMERY. + + +Emma Cavendish, with her cheeks blooming and eyes beaming with pleasure, +ran out to meet her friends. + +Alden and Laura Lytton, just admitted by the footman, stood within the +hall. + +Miss Cavendish welcomed Laura with a kiss and Alden with a cordial grasp +of the hand. + +"I am so delighted to see you, dear Laura; and you also, Mr. Lytton," +she said, leading the way into the parlor. + +"Well as I like my kind relatives at Lytton Lodge, I am very glad to get +back to you, Emma, dear, and that is the truth," answered Laura, as she +sank into an arm-chair and began to draw off her gloves. + +Alden said nothing. He had bowed deeply in response to Miss Cavendish's +words of welcome, and now he was thinking what a bright and beautiful +creature she was, how full of healthful, joyous life she seemed, and +wondering that he had never noticed all this before. + +But he had noticed it before. When he first saw Emma Cavendish in her +father's house in the city he had thought her the most heavenly vision +of loveliness that had ever beamed upon mortal eyes; and he would have +continued to think so had not the baleful beauty of Mary Grey glided +before him and beguiled his sight and his soul. + +But Mary Grey was gone with all her magic arts, and the very atmosphere +seemed clearer and brighter for her absence. + +"As soon as you have rested a little come up to your room, Laura, and +lay on your wraps. Tea will be ready by the time we come down again. +And, Mrs. Lytton, your old attendant, Jerome, will show you to your +apartment," said the young hostess, as she arose, with a smile, to +conduct her guest. + +They left the drawing-room together. + +And while Laura Lytton was arranging her toilet in the chamber above +stairs, Emma Cavendish told her the particulars of Mary Grey's +departure, and also of the letter she had received from her +long-estranged relative, Mrs. Fanning. + +They went down to tea, where they were joined by Electra and the Rev. +Dr. Jones. + +Miss Cavendish presented Mr. Lytton to Dr. Jones. And then they sat down +to the table. + +Alden Lytton's eyes and thoughts were naturally enough occupied and +interested in Emma Cavendish. He had not exactly fallen in love with +her, but he was certainly filled with admiration for the loveliest girl +he had ever seen. And he could but draw involuntary comparisons between +the fair, frank, bright maiden and the beautiful, alluring widow. + +Both were brilliant, but with this difference: the one with the pure +life-giving light of Heaven, and the other with the fatal fire of +Tartarus. + +After tea they went into the drawing-room, where they spent a long +evening talking over old times--_their_ "old times" being something less +than one year of age. + +And every hour confirmed Alden Lytton's admiration of Emma Cavendish. + +The next day Alden Lytton was invited upstairs to the old lady's room +and presented to Madam Cavendish, who received him with much cordiality, +telling him that his grandfather had been a lifelong personal friend of +hers, and that she had known his father from his infancy up to the time +that he had left the neighborhood to practice law in the city. + +And after a short interview the ancient gentlewoman and the young law +student parted mutually well pleased with each other. + +"A fine young man--a very fine young man indeed; but more like his +grandfather, as I remember him in his youth, than like his father, whom +I could not always well approve," said the old lady to her confidential +attendant, Aunt Moll, who had closed the chamber door after the +departing visitor. + +"Dunno nuffin 'tall 'bout dat, ole mist'ess, but he monsus hansume, +dough--umph-um; a'n't he dough? And a'n't he got eyes--umph-um!" + +Alden went down-stairs. + +"The most interesting old lady I have ever seen in my life, with the +balsamic aroma of history and antiquity about her and all her +surroundings," he said, as he joined the young ladies in the +drawing-room. + +"Balsamic aroma of _what_?" inquired Electra, who had no taste for +poetry and no reverence for antiquity. "Young man, it was the dried +'yarbs' she keeps in her closet that you smelled. Besides, antiquity has +no other odor than that of mold and must." + +Alden blushed, laughed and looked at Emma Cavendish. + +"You must not mind my cousin Electra, Mr. Lytton. She is a privileged +person among us. By the way, Laura has told you, I presume, of our +relationship," said Emma, pleasantly. + +"Oh, yes!" returned young Lytton, with a smile and a bow. "And I am +happy to have this opportunity of congratulating you both." + +"Thanks," said Miss Cavendish, with a vivid blush. + +"I believe there was some talk about a picnic party to the top of +Porcupine Mountain, was there not?" inquired Electra, to cut short all +sentiment. + +"Yes, my dear, and the horses are ordered for eleven o'clock. It is +half-past ten now, and we will go and put on our hats and habits," +replied Miss Cavendish, playfully rising and breaking up the conference. + +The party of young friends remained one week longer at Blue Cliffs, +every day deepening and confirming the admiration and respect with which +the beauty and the excellence of Emma Cavendish inspired Alden Lytton. +But yet he was not in love with her. + +Every morning was spent by the young people in riding or driving about +through the sublime and beautiful mountain and valley scenery of the +neighborhood. + +And every evening was passed in fancy work, music, reading or +conversation in the drawing-room. + +And so the pleasant days of the Easter holidays passed away, and the +time for study and for work commenced. + +Laura and Electra went away from Blue Cliffs on the same day--Laura +escorted by her brother Alden, and Electra by her grandfather, the Rev. +Dr. Jones. + +As the party were assembled in the front hall to take leave of their +fair young hostess before entering the large traveling carriage that +was to take them to the Wendover railway station, Emma Cavendish went up +to Alden Lytton and placed a letter in his hand, saying, with a frank +smile: + +"As you are going direct to Charlottesville, Mr. Lytton, I will trouble +you to take charge of this letter to our mutual friend, Mrs. Grey, who, +you know, is now staying in that town. Will you do so?" + +"Certainly--with great pleasure," stammered Alden in extreme confusion, +which he could scarcely conceal, and without the slightest consciousness +that he was telling an enormous falsehood, but with full assurance that +he should like to oblige Miss Cavendish. + +"I hope it will not inconvenience you to deliver this in person, Mr. +Lytton," added Emma. + +"Certainly not, Miss Cavendish," replied Alden, telling unconscious fib +the second. + +"For, you see, I am rather anxious about our friend. She left in ill +health. She is almost a stranger in Charlottesville. And--this is the +point--I have not heard from her, by letter or otherwise, since she left +us; so I fear she may be too ill to write, and may have no friend near +to write for her. This is why I tax your kindness to deliver the letter +in person and find out how she is; and--write and let us know. I am +asking a great deal of you, Mr. Lytton," added Emma, with a deprecating +smile. + +"Not at all. It is a very small service that you require. And I hope you +know that I should be exceedingly happy to have the opportunity of doing +any very great service for you, Miss Cavendish," replied Alden, +truthfully and earnestly. + +For in itself it was a very small service that Miss Cavendish had +required of him, and he would have liked and even preferred another and +a greater, and, in fact, a different service. + +"Many thanks," said Miss Cavendish, with a frank smile, as she left the +letter in his hands. + +Then the adieus were all said, and promises of frequent correspondence +and future visits exchanged among the young ladies. And the travelers +departed, and the young hostess re-entered her lonely home and resumed +her usual routine of domestic duties. + +She was anxious upon more than one account. + +More than a week had passed since the departure of Mary Grey, and yet, +as she had told Alden Lytton, she had never heard even of her safe +arrival at Charlottesville, and she feared that her _protegee_ might be +suffering from nervous illness among strangers. + +More than a week had also passed since she had telegraphed and written +to her Aunt Fanning in New York. But no answer had yet come from that +unhappy woman. And she feared that the poor relative whom she wished to +succor might have met with some new misfortune. + +However, Emma had hoped, from day to day, that each morning's mail might +bring her good news from Charlottesville or New York, or both. + +And even to-day she waited with impatience for the return of Jerome, who +had driven the traveling-carriage containing the departing visitors to +Wendover, and who might find letters for Blue Cliffs waiting at the +post-office. + +Emma could not be at rest all that day, partly because she missed her +young companions, whose society had made the lonely house so cheerful, +and partly because she half expected news with the return of Jerome. + +She wandered up and down the deserted drawing-room, and then went +upstairs to the chambers just vacated by her young friends, where she +found Sarah, the chamber-maid, engaged in dismantling beds and +dressing-tables preparatory to shutting up the "spare rooms" for the +rest of the season. + +All this was very dreary and dispiriting. + +She left these apartments and would have gone into the old lady's room, +only that she knew her grandmother was at this hour taking the first of +her two daily naps. + +As she turned to go down-stairs she glanced through the front hall +window and caught a glimpse of the traveling-carriage, with Jerome +perched upon the box, slowly winding its way around the circular avenue +that led to the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A SURPRISE. + + +She ran down-stairs briskly enough now, and ran out of the front door. + +"Any letters to-day, Jerome?" she inquired. + +"No, miss," answered Jerome, shaking his head. + +"Oh, dear, how depressing!" sighed Emma, as she turned to go into the +house. + +But a sound arrested her steps--the opening of the carriage-door. She +turned and saw Jerome standing before it and in the act of helping some +one to alight from the carriage. + +Another moment and a tall, thin, dark-eyed woman, with very white hair, +and clad in the deepest widow's weeds, stood before Miss Cavendish. + +By instinct Emma recognized her aunt. And she felt very much relieved, +and very much rejoiced to see her, even while wondering that she should +have come unannounced either by letter or telegram. + +As for Jerome, he stood wickedly enjoying his young lady's astonishment, +and looking as if he himself had performed a very meritorious action. + +"Miss Emma Cavendish, I presume?" said the stranger, a little +hesitatingly. + +"Yes, madam. And you are my Aunt Fanning, I am sure. And I am very glad +to see you," answered Emma Cavendish. + +And she put her arms around the stranger's neck and kissed her. + +"Dat's better'n letters, a'n't it, Miss Emmer?" inquired Jerome, +grinning from ear to ear, and showing a double row of the strongest and +whitest ivories, as he proceeded to take from the carriage various +packages, boxes and traveling-bags and so forth. + +"Yes, better than letters, Jerome. Follow us into the house with that +luggage. Come, dear aunt, let us go in. Lean on my arm. Don't be afraid +to lean heavily. I am very strong," said Emma; and drawing the poor +lady's emaciated hand through her own arm she led her into the house. + +She took her first into the family sitting-room, where there was a +cheerful fire burning, which the chilly mountain air, in this spring +weather, made very acceptable. + +She placed her in a comfortable cushioned rocking-chair and proceeded to +take off the traveling-bonnet and shawl with her own hands, saying: + +"You must get well rested and refreshed here before you go up to your +room. You look very tired." + +"I am very weak, my dear," answered the lady, in a faint voice. + +"I see that you are. I am very sorry to see you so feeble; but we will +make you stronger here in our exhilarating mountain air. If I had known +that you would come by this train I should have gone to the railway +station in person to meet you," said Emma, kindly. + +Mrs. Fanning turned her great black eyes upon the young lady and stared +at her in surprise. + +"Why, did you not get my letter?" she inquired. + +"No," said Emma. "I anxiously expected to hear from you from day to day, +but heard nothing either by letter or telegram." + +"That is strange! I wrote to you three days ago that I should be at +Wendover this morning, and so, when I found your carriage there, I +thought that you had sent for me." + +"It was very fortunate that the carriage was there, and I am very glad +of it; but it was not in fact sent to meet you, for, not having received +your letter, I did not know that you would arrive to-day. The carriage +was sent to take some visitors who had been staying with us, and were +going away, to the railway station. It is a wonder Jerome had not +explained this to you. He is so talkative," said Emma, smiling. + +"I never talk to strange servants," gravely replied the lady. "But I +will tell you how it happened. I really arrived by the earliest train, +that got in at Wendover at five o'clock in the morning. There was no +carriage from Blue Cliffs waiting for me at the railway station, and, in +fact, no carriage from any place, except the hack from the Reindeer +Hotel. So I got into that, and, having previously left word with the +station-master to send the Blue Cliffs carriage after me to the Reindeer +when it should come, I went on to the hotel to get breakfast and to lie +down and rest. But when half the forenoon had passed away without any +arrival for me, I began to grow anxious, fearing that some mistake had +been made." + +"I am very sorry you had to suffer this annoyance, immediately upon your +arrival here too," said Emma, regretfully. + +"Oh, it did not last long! About noon the landlord, Greenfield, rapped +at my door and told me that the Blue Cliffs carriage had come, and that +the ostler was watering the horses while the coachman was taking a glass +of beer at the bar." + +"Jerome had doubtless taken our visitors to the station, and called at +the Reindeer to refresh himself and his horses." + +"Yes, I suppose so. Almost at the same moment that the landlord came to +my door to announce the carriage, I heard some one else, under my +window, saying to the coachman that there was a lady here waiting to be +taken to Blue Cliffs; and I went down and got into the carriage with bag +and baggage. Jerome, if that's his name, very gravely, with a silent +bow, put up the steps and closed the door and mounted his box and drove +off." + +"But you must have left some baggage behind." + +"Yes, three trunks; one very large. Mr. Greenfield, of the Reindeer, +promised to send them right after me in his wagon." + +While they had been speaking, Emma Cavendish had touched the bell and +given a whispered order to the servant who answered it. + +So now the second footman, Peter, appeared with a waiter in his hands, +on which was served tea, toast, a broiled squab and glass of currant +jelly. + +This was set upon a stand beside Mrs. Fanning's easy-chair. + +"I think that you had better take something before you go upstairs," +said the young hostess, kindly, as she poured out a cup of tea. + +Consumptives are almost always hungry and thirsty, as if nature +purposely created an unusual appetite for nourishment in order to supply +the excessive waste of tissue caused by the malady. + +And so Mrs. Fanning really enjoyed the delicate luncheon set before her +so much that she finished the squab, the jelly, the toast and the tea. + +When she had been offered and had refused a second supply, Emma proposed +that she should go up to her room, and she took her at once to the +beautiful corner chamber, with its southern and eastern aspect, that had +been fitted up for her. + +Here she found that her traveling-trunks, which had already arrived from +Wendover, were placed. + +And here, when she had changed her traveling-dress for a loose wrapper, +she laid down on a lounge to rest, while Emma darkened the room and left +her to repose. + +Miss Cavendish went straight to the old lady's apartment. + +Mrs. Cavendish was sitting in her great easy-chair by the fire, with her +gold-rimmed spectacles on her nose and her Bible lying open on her lap. + +As Emma entered the room the old lady closed the book and looked up with +a welcoming smile. + +"I have come to tell you, my dear grandma, that Aunt Fanning has +arrived," said Emma, drawing a chair and seating herself by the old +lady's side. + +"Yes, my dear child; but I'll trouble you not to call her Aunt Fanning," +said Madam Cavendish, haughtily. + +"But she _is_ my aunt, dear grandma," returned Emma, with a deprecating +smile. + +"Then call her Aunt Katherine. I detest the name of that tavern-keeper +whom she married." + +"Grandma--grandma, the man has gone where at least there can be no +distinctions of mere family rank," said Emma. + +"That's got nothing to do with it. We are _here_ now. Well, and when +did Katherine arrive, and where have you put her? Tell me all about it." + +Emma told her all about it. + +"Well," said the old lady, "as she is here, though sorely against my +approbation--still, as she is here we must give her a becoming welcome, +I suppose. You may bring her to my room to-morrow morning." + +"Thank you, grandma, dear; that is just what I would like to do," +replied the young lady. + +Accordingly, the next morning Mrs. Fanning was conducted by Emma to the +"Throne Room," as Electra had saucily designated the old lady's +apartment. + +Madam Cavendish was dressed with great care, in a fine black cashmere +wrapper, lined and trimmed with black silk, and a fine white lace cap, +trimmed with white piping. + +And old Moll, also in her best clothes, stood behind her mistress's +chair. + +The old lady meant to impress "the tavern-keeper's widow" with a due +sense of reverence. + +But the gentlewoman's heart was a great deal better than her head. And +so, when she saw the girl whom she had once known a brilliant, +rich-complexioned brunette, with raven hair and sparkling eyes and +queenly form changed into a woman, old before her time, pale, thin, gray +and sorrow-stricken, her heart melted with pity, and she held out her +hand, saying, kindly: + +"How do you do, Katie, my dear? I am very sorry to see you looking in +such ill-health. You have changed very much from the child I knew you, +twenty-five years ago." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Fanning, as she took and pressed the venerable hand +that was held out to her. "I have changed. But there is only one more +change that awaits me--the last great one." + +"Moll, wheel forward that other easy-chair. Sit down at once, my poor +Katie. You look ready to drop from weakness. Emma, my child, pour out a +glass of that old port wine and bring it to your aunt. You will find it +in that little cabinet," said Madam Cavendish, speaking to one and +another in her hurry to be hospitable and to atone for the hard thoughts +she had cherished and expressed toward this poor suffering and desolate +woman. + +And Mrs. Fanning was soon seated in the deep, soft "sleepy hollow," and +sipping with comfort the rich old port wine. + +"Yes, Katie," said the old lady, resuming the thread of the +conversation, "that last great change awaits us all--a glorious change, +Katie, that I for one look forward to with satisfaction and desire +_always_--with rapture and longing _sometimes_. What will the next life +be like, I wonder? We don't know. 'Eye hath not seen--ear heard,'" mused +the old lady. + +The interview was not a long one. Soon Emma Cavendish took her aunt from +the room. + +"You must come in and see me every day, Katie, my dear," said the old +lady, as the two visitors left. + +And from that time the desolate widow, the homeless wanderer, found +loving and tender friends, and a comfortable and quiet home. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +ALDEN AND HIS EVIL GENIUS MEET AGAIN. + + +Meanwhile the visitors that had left Blue Cliffs that morning traveled +together until they reached Richmond. + +The train got in at ten o'clock that night. + +There was no steamboat to Mount Ascension Island until the next day. + +So the party for that bourne were compelled to spend the night at +Richmond. + +Alden, although he might have gone on to Charlottesville that night, +determined to remain with his friends. + +The whole party went to the Henrico House, where they were accommodated +with adjoining rooms. + +The next morning they resumed their journey, separating to go their +several ways. Alden saw the two young ladies safely on the steamboat +that was to take them to Mount Ascension, and then bade them good-bye, +leaving them in charge of the Rev. Dr. Jones, who was to escort them to +the end of their journey. + +He had barely time to secure his seat for Charlottesville, where he +arrived on the afternoon of the same day. + +The letter he had to deliver to Mary Grey "burned in his pocket." He +could not have done otherwise than promise to deliver it in person, when +fair Emma Cavendish had requested him to do so. And now, of course, he +must keep his word and go and carry the letter to her, although he would +rather have walked into a fire than into that false siren's presence. + +It is true that his love for her was dead and gone. But it had died such +a cruel and violent death that the very memory of it was full of pain +and horror, and to meet her would be like meeting the specter of his +murdered love. Nevertheless he must not shrink from his duty; he must go +and do it. + +Before reporting at his college, he went to a hotel and changed his +clothes, and then started out to find Mary Grey's residence. That was +not so easily done. She had omitted to leave her address with her +friends at Blue Cliffs, and Emma's letter was simply directed to Mrs. +Mary Grey, Charlottesville. + +True, Charlottesville was not a very large place; but looking for a lady +there was something like looking for the fabulous needle in the +haystack. + +Still, he had formed a plan of action to find her. He knew that she +pretended to great piety; that she was a member of the Protestant +Episcopal Church, and that wherever she might happen to sojourn she +would be sure to join the church and make friends with the clergy of her +own denomination. + +So Alden bent his steps to the house of the Episcopal minister at +Charlottesville. + +He found the reverend gentleman at home, and received from him, as he +had expected to do, the address of Mrs. Grey. + +"A most excellent young woman, sir--an earnest Christian. She lost not a +day in presenting her church letter and uniting herself with the church. +She has been here but ten days, and already she has taken a class in the +Sunday-school. A most meritorious young woman, sir," said the worthy +minister, as he handed the card with Mrs. Grey's new address written +upon it. + +To Alden, who knew the false-hearted beauty so well, all this was +surprising. + +But he made no comment. He simply took the card, bowed his thanks, and +left the house to go and seek the home of Mrs. Grey. + +Among many falsehoods, the woman had told one truth when she had +informed Emma Cavendish that she had a lady friend at Charlottesville +who kept a students' boarding-house. She had met this lady just previous +to engaging as drawing-mistress at Mount Ascension. And by her alluring +arts she had won her sympathy and confidence. She was staying with this +friend at the time that Alden sought her out. + +He now easily found the house. + +And when he inquired of the negro boy who answered the bell whether Mrs. +Grey was at home, he was answered in the affirmative and invited to +enter the house. + +The boy opened a door on the right hand of the narrow entrance passage, +and Alden passed into the parlor and found himself, unannounced, in the +presence of his false love. + +There was no one with her, and she was sitting at a table, with drawing +materials before her, apparently engaged in copying a picture. + +Hearing the door open and shut, she lifted her head and looked up. + +Seeing Alden Lytton standing before her, she dropped the pencil from her +fingers, turned deathly pale and stared at him in silence. + +Alden, if the truth must be told, was scarcely less agitated; but he +soon recovered his self-command. + +"I should apologize," he said, "for coming in unannounced; but I did not +know that you were here. I was shown into this room by the waiter, +supposing that I was to remain here until he took my card to you." + +She neither moved nor spoke, but sat and stared at him. + +"I have only come as the bearer of a letter to you from Miss +Cavendish--a letter that I promised to deliver in person. Here it is," +he said, laying the little packet on the table before her. + +Still she made no answer to his words, nor any acknowledgment of his +service. She did not even take up Emma's letter. + +"And now, having done my errand, I will bid you good-afternoon, Mrs. +Grey," he said, bowing and turning to leave the room. + +That broke the panic-stricken spell that held her still. + +She started up and clasped her hands suddenly together, exclaiming: + +"No, no, no; for pity's sake don't go yet! Now that you are here, for +Heaven's sake stay a moment and listen to me!" + +"What can you possibly have to say to me, Mrs. Grey?" coolly inquired +the young man. + +"Oh, sit down--sit down one little moment and hear me! I have not got +the plague, that you should hasten from me so," she pleaded. + +It was in Alden's thoughts to say that moral plagues were even more +dangerous and fatal than material ones; but the woman before him looked +so really distressed that he forbore. + +"I know that you have ceased to love me," she went on in a broken voice. +"I know, of course, that you have ceased to love me--" + +"Yes, I am thoroughly cured of that egregious boyish folly," assented +Alden, grimly. + +"I know it, and I would not seek to recover your lost, lost love; but--" + +Her voice, that had been faltering, now quite broke down, and she burst +into tears and sobbed as if her heart was breaking. + +And her grief was as real as it was violent; for she had loved the +handsome young law student, and she mourned the loss of his love. + +Alden sat apparently unmoved, but in truth he was beginning to feel very +sorry for this woman, but it was with the sorrow we feel for a suffering +criminal, and totally distinct from sympathy or affection. + +Presently her gust of tears and sobs exhausted itself, and she sighed +and dried her eyes and said: + +"Yes, I know that all love is quite over between us." + +"Quite over," assented Alden, emphatically. + +"And it is not to renew that subject that I asked you to stay and listen +to me." + +"No," said Alden, gently, "I presume not." + +"But, though all thoughts of love are forever over between us, yet I can +not bear that we should live at enmity. As for me, I am not your enemy, +Alden Lytton." + +"Nor am I yours, Mrs. Grey. You and I can live as strangers without +being enemies." + +"Live as strangers! Oh, but that is just what would break my heart +utterly! Why should we live as strangers? If all love is over between +us, and if we are still not enemies, if we have forgiven each other, why +should we two live as strangers in this little town? Why may we not meet +at least as the common friends of every day?" + +"Because the memory of the past would preclude the possibility of our +meeting pleasantly or profitably." + +"Oh, Alden, you are very hard! You have not forgiven me!" + +"I have utterly forgiven you." + +"But you cherish hard thoughts of me?" + +"Mrs. Grey, I must regard your actions--the actions that separated +us--as they really are," answered Alden, sadly and firmly, as he arose +and took his hat to leave the room. + +"No, no, no; _don't_ go yet! You _must_ hear me--you _shall_ hear me! +Even a convicted murderer is allowed to speak for himself!" she +exclaimed, with passionate tears. + +Alden sighed and sat down. + +"You must regard my actions as they really are, you say. Ah, but the +extenuating circumstances, the temptations, the motives--aye, the +motives!--have you ever thought of them?" + +"I can see no motive that could justify your acts," said Alden, coldly. + +"No, not justify--I do not justify them even to myself--not justify, but +_palliate_ them, Alden--palliate them at least in your eyes, if in no +others." + +"And why in my eyes, Mrs. Grey?" + +"Oh, Alden, all was planned for your sake!" + +"For _my_ sake? I pray you do not say that!" + +"Listen, then, and consider all the circumstances. I loved you and +promised to be your wife at that far distant day when you should come +into a living law practice. But I was homeless, penniless and helpless. +I had lost my situation in the school, and I had no prospect of getting +another. The term of my visit to Emma Cavendish had nearly expired and I +had nowhere to go. Governor Cavendish loved me with the idolatrous love +of an old man for a young woman, and besought me to be his wife with +such insane earnestness that I thought my refusal would certainly be his +death, especially as it was well known that he was liable to apoplexy +and that any excitement might bring on a fatal attack. Under all these +circumstances I think I must have lost my senses; for I reasoned with +myself--most falsely and fatally reasoned with myself thus: Why should +not I, who am about to be cast out homeless and penniless upon the wide +world--why should not I secure myself a home and save this old man's +life for a few years longer by accepting his love and becoming his wife? +It is true that I do not love him, but I honor him very much. And I +would be the comfort of his declining years. He could not live long, and +when he should come to die I should inherit the widow's third of all his +vast estates. And then, after a year of mourning should be over, I could +marry my true love, and bring him a fortune too. There, Alden, the +reasoning was all false, wicked and fatal. I know that now. But oh, +Alden, it was not so much for myself as for others that I planned thus! +I thought to have blessed and comforted the old man's declining years, +and after his death to have brought a fortune to you. These were my +motives. They do not justify, but at least they palliate my conduct." + +She ceased. + +Alden did not reply, but stood up again with his hat in his hand. + +"And now, Alden, though we may never be lovers again, may we not meet +sometimes as friends? I am so lonely here! I am, indeed, all alone in +the world. We may meet sometimes as friends, Alden?" she asked, +pathetically. + +"No, Mrs. Grey. But yet, if ever I can serve you in any way I will do so +most willingly. Good-afternoon," said the young man. + +And he bowed and left the room. + +As he disappeared her beautiful face darkened with a baleful cloud. "No +fury like a woman scorned," wrote one who seemed to know. Her face +darkened like a thunder-storm, and from its cloud her eyes shot forked +lightning. She set her teeth, and clinched her little fist and shook it +after him, hissing: + +"He scorns me--he scorns me! Ah, he may scorn my love! Let him beware of +my hate! He will not meet me as a friend, but he will serve me +willingly! Very well; he shall be often called upon to serve me, if only +to bring him under my power!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +MARY GREY'S MANEUVER. + + She'd tried this world in all its changes, + States and conditions; had been loved and happy. + Scorned and wretched, and passed through all its stages; + And now, believe me, she who knew it best, + Thought it not worth the bustle that it cost. + --MADDEN. + + +Mary Grey now set systematically to work. Partly from love or its base +counterfeit, partly from hate, but mostly from vanity, she determined to +devote every faculty of mind and body to one set object--to win Alden +Lytton's love back again and to subjugate him to her will. + +To all outward seeming she led a most blameless and beneficent life. + +She lived with the bishop's widow, and made herself very useful and +agreeable to the staid lady, who refused to take any money for her +board. + +And although the house was full of students, who boarded and lodged and +spent their evenings there, with the most wonderful self-government she +forebore "to make eyes" at any of them. + +She now no longer said in so many words that "her heart was buried in +the grave," and so forth; but she quietly acted as if it was. + +She put away all her mourning finery--her black tulles and silks and +bugles and jet jewelry--and she took to wearing the plainest black +alpacas and the plainest white muslin caps. She looked more like a +Protestant nun than a "sparkling" young widow. But she looked prettier +and more interesting than ever, and she knew it. + +She was a regular attendant at her church, going twice on Sunday and +twice during the week. + +On Sunday mornings she was always sure of finding Alden Lytton in his +seat, which was in full sight of her own. But she never looked toward +him. She was content to feel that he often looked at her, and that he +could not look at her and remain quite indifferent to her. + +She was also an active member of all the parish benevolent societies, a +zealous teacher in the Sunday-school, an industrious seamstress in the +sewing-circle, and a regular visitor of the poor and sick. + +Her life seemed devoted to good works, apparently from the love of the +Lord and the love of her neighbor. + +She won golden opinions from all sorts of men, and women too. Only there +was one significant circumstance about her popularity--_she could not +win the love of children_. No, not with all her beauty and grace of +person, and sweetness and softness of tone and manner, she could not win +the children. Their sensitive spirits shrank from the evil within her +which the duller souls of adults could not even perceive. And many an +innocent child was sent in disgrace from the parlor because it either +would not kiss "sweet Mrs. Grey" at all, or would kiss her with the air +of taking a dose of physic. + +But all the people in Charlottesville praised the piety and, above all, +the prudence of Mrs. Grey--"Such a young and beautiful woman to be so +entirely weaned from worldliness and self-love and so absorbed in +worship and good works!" + +All this certainly produced an effect upon Alden Lytton, who, of course, +heard her praises on all sides, who saw her every Sunday at church, and +who met her occasionally at the demure little tea-parties to which both +might happen to be invited. + +When they met thus by chance in private houses he would bow and say, +quietly: + +"Good-evening, madam;" a salutation which she would return by a grave: + +"Good-evening, sir." + +And not another word would pass between them during the evening. + +But all the young man observed in her at such times was a certain +discreet reserve, which he could but approve. + +"She seems to be much changed. She seems to be truly grieved for the +past. Perhaps I have judged her too harshly. And yet what a base part +that was she proposed to play! may be that she herself did not know how +base it was. Such ignorance would prove an appalling moral blindness. +But then, again, should she be held responsible for her moral blindness? +It sometimes requires suffering to teach the nature of sin. A child does +not know that fire is dangerous until it burns itself. _Her_ suffering +must have opened her eyes to the 'exceeding sinfulness of sin.' For her +own sake I hope it is so. As for myself, it does not matter. I have +ceased to regard her with any other feeling than pity and charity. And +although she would become a saint I could never love her again," he said +to himself one night, after passing an evening with her at one of the +professor's houses. + +And his thoughts reverted to that lovely maiden whose golden hair formed +an appropriate halo around her white brow, and whose pure soul looked +frankly forth from her clear blue eyes. + +He was not in love with Miss Cavendish, he said to himself, but he could +not help feeling the difference between radiant frankness and dark +deceit. + +One evening, about this time, they met at a strawberry festival, held in +the lecture-room of the church, for the benefit of the Sunday-school. + +While the festival was at its height a thunder-storm came up, with a +heavy shower of rain. But the company at the festival cared little about +that. They were housed, and enjoyed themselves with light music, fruits, +flowers and friends. And before the hour of separation the storm would +probably be over, and carriages, or at least water-proof cloaks, +overshoes and umbrella's, would be in attendance upon every one. + +So they made merry until eleven o'clock, when the storm was passing away +with a steady light rain. + +Every lady who had a carriage in waiting offered to give Mrs. Grey a +seat and to set her down at her own door. + +Mary Grey thanked each in succession and declined the kind offer, adding +that she expected some one to come for her. + +At last nearly everybody had left the room but the treasurer of the +festival, who was counting the receipts, and the sexton, who was +covering the tables, preparatory to closing for the night. + +Alden Lytton had lingered to make a quiet donation to the charity, and +he was passing out, when, he saw Mary Grey standing shivering near the +door. + +As he came up to her she stepped out into the darkness and the rain. + +He hastened after her, exclaiming: + +"Mrs. Grey! I beg your pardon! Are you alone?" + +"Yes, Mr. Lytton," she answered, quietly. + +"And you have no umbrella!" he said, quickly, as he hoisted his own and +stepped to her side. "Permit me to see you safe to your door. Take my +arm. It is very dark and the walking is dangerous. The sidewalks are +turned to brooks by this storm," he added, as he held his umbrella +carefully over her. + +"I thank you very much, Mr. Lytton; but indeed I do not wish to give you +so much trouble. I can go home quite well enough alone. I have often to +do it," she answered, shrinking away from him. + +"It is not safe for you to do so, especially on such a night as this. +Will you take my arm?" he said; and, without waiting for her answer, he +took her hand and drew it through his arm and walked on with her in +silence, wondering at and blaming the heartlessness of the ladies of her +circle who had carriages in attendance, and had, as he supposed, every +one of them, gone off without offering this poor lonely creature a seat, +leaving her to get home through the night and storm as she could. + +As they walked on he felt Mary Grey's arm trembling upon his own, and +involuntarily he drew it closer, and, in so doing, he perceived the +tremor and jar of her fast-beating heart, and he pitied her with a deep, +tender, manly pity. + +"I am afraid you feel chilled in this rain," he said, by way of saying +something kind. + +"No," she answered, softly, and said no more. + +They got to the door of her dwelling, and he rang the bell and waited +there with her until some one should come. + +"I am very much indebted to you, Mr. Lytton," she said, softly and +coolly; "but I am also very sorry to have given you so much trouble." + +"I assure you it was no trouble; and I beg that you will not again +attempt to go alone at night through the streets of Charlottesville," he +answered, sadly. + +"But why?" she asked. "What harm or danger can there be in my doing so?" + +"Ladies never go out alone at night here. Many of the wild students are +on the streets at night and are not always in their senses." + +"Oh, I see! Well, I will try to take care of myself. I hear the page +coming to open the door. Good-night, Mr. Lytton. You have been very +kind. I thank you very much," said Mrs. Grey, coldly. + +He touched his hat and turned away just as the door was opened. + +Alden Lytton went back to the college with somewhat kinder thoughts of +Mary Grey. + +And Mrs. Grey went into the house and into the back parlor, where the +bishop's widow was waiting up for her. + +"Why, my dear, your shoes are wet through and your skirts are draggled +up to your knees! Is it possible you walked home through the rain?" +inquired the lady. + +"Yes, madam; but it will not hurt me." + +"But how came you to walk home when Mrs. Doctor Sage promised faithfully +to bring you home in her carriage?" + +"Oh, my dear friend, the storm came up, and so many people were afraid +of wetting their feet that I gave up my seat to another lady," answered +Mary Grey. + +"Always the same self-sacrificing spirit! Well, my dear, I hope your +reward will come in the next world, if not in this. Now go upstairs and +take off your wet clothes and get right to bed. I will send you up a +glass of hot spiced wine, which will prevent you from taking cold," said +the hospitable old lady. + +Mary Grey kissed her hostess, said good-night, and ran away upstairs to +her own cozy room, where, although it was May time, a bright little wood +fire was burning in the fire-place to correct the dampness of the air. + +"Well," she said, with her silent laugh, as she began to take off her +sodden shoes, "it was worth the wetting to walk home with Alden Lytton, +and to make one step of progress toward my object." + +And the thought comforted her more than did the silver mug of hot spiced +wine that the little page presently brought her. + +A few days after this she met Alden Lytton again, by accident, at the +house of a mutual friend. Alden came up to her and, after the usual +greeting, said: + +"I have received a short note from Miss Cavendish inquiring of me +whether I had delivered her letter to you, and saying that she had +received no answer from you, and indeed no news of you since your +departure from Blue Cliffs. Now if I had not supposed that you would +have answered Miss Emma's letter immediately I should certainly have +written myself to relieve her anxiety on your account." + +"Oh, indeed I beg her pardon and yours! But I have sprained the +fore-finger of my right hand and can not write at all. Otherwise I am +quite well. Pray write and explain this to Emma, with my love, and my +promise to write to her as soon as my finger gets well," said Mary Grey. + +And then she arose to take leave of her hostess, and, with a distant bow +to Alden Lytton, she left the house. + +Two days after this she received a very kind letter from Miss Cavendish +expressing much regret to hear of her disabled hand, and affectionately +inquiring of her when she should return to Blue Cliffs, adding that Mrs. +Fanning had arrived, and was then domiciled at the house; and, though a +widow and an invalid, she was a very agreeable companion. + +This letter also inclosed a check for the amount of the quarterly +allowance Emma Cavendish wasted upon Mary Grey. + +"For whether you abandon us or not, dear Mrs. Grey, or wherever you may +be, so long as I can reach you I will send you this quarterly sum, which +I consider yours of right," she wrote. And with more expressions of +kindness and affection the letter closed. + +This letter was a great relief to Mary Grey's anxiety; for now that this +worshiper of mammon was sure of her income she had no fears for the +future. + +But she dared not herself answer the letter. While Mrs. Fanning should +remain at Blue Cliffs, Mary Grey must not let her handwriting go there, +lest it should be seen and recognized by Frederick Fanning's widow. + +But the next day was Sunday, and Mrs. Grey went to church, taking Emma's +letter in her pocket. + +Usually she avoided Alden Lytton on these occasions, refraining even +from looking toward him during the church service or afterward, for she +did not wish him to suppose that she _sought_ his notice. + +But now she had a fair and good excuse for speaking to him; so when the +service was over and the congregation was leaving the church she waited +at the door of her pew until Alden passed by, when she said, very meekly +and coolly: + +"Mr. Lytton, may I speak with you a moment?" + +"Certainly, madam," said Alden, stopping at once. + +"I have a letter from dearest Emma, but I can not answer it. Ah, my poor +crippled finger! Would you be so very kind as to write and tell my +darling that I have received it and how much I thank her? And here; +perhaps, as you are to acknowledge the letter for me, you had better +read it. There is really nothing in it that a mutual friend may not +see," she said, drawing the letter from her pocket and putting it into +his hand. + +"Certainly, madam, if you wish me to do so; certainly, with much +pleasure," answered Alden Lytton, with more warmth than he had intended; +because, in truth, he was beginning to feel delight in every subject +that concerned Emma Cavendish, and he was now especially pleased with +having the privilege of reading her letter and the duty of acknowledging +it. + +"Many thanks! You are very kind! Good-morning," said Mary Grey, with +discreet coolness, as she passed on before him to leave the church. + +"Step number two! I shall soon have him in my power again!" chuckled the +coquette, as she walked down the street toward her dwelling. + +For Mary Grey had utterly misinterpreted the warmth of Alden Lytton's +manner in acceding to her request. It never entered her mind to think +that this warmth had anything to do with the idea of Emma Cavendish. She +was much too vain to be jealous. + +She did not really think that there was a man in the world who could +withstand her charms, or a woman in the world who could become her +rival. + +And certainly her personal experience went far to confirm her in that +vain theory. Therefore she did not fear Emma Cavendish as a rival. + +And while she did not dare to write to Blue Cliffs, she did not hesitate +to make Alden Lytton the medium of communication with Emma Cavendish. + +Her other lover, the counterpart of Alden Lytton, had not appeared since +he had called on her on his first visit to Charlottesville. + +But he wrote to her six times a week, and she knew what he was doing--he +was trying hard to settle up his business at Wendover, with the distant +hope of removing to Charlottesville and opening a store there. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +IN THE TOILS. + + +Affairs went on in this way for one year longer. Emma Cavendish +continued to write regularly to Mrs. Grey, telling her all the little +household and neighborhood news. Among the rest, she told her how Mrs. +Fanning, by her gentleness and patience, was winning the affections of +all her household, and especially of Madam Cavendish, who had been most +of all prejudiced against her; and how much the invalid's health was +improving. + +"She will never be perfectly well again; but I think, with proper care, +and under Divine Providence, we may succeed in preserving her life for +many years longer." + +Now, as Mary Grey could not venture to return to Blue Cliffs, or even to +write a letter to that place with her own hand, so long as Mrs. Fanning +should live in the house, the prospect of her doing either grew more and +more remote. + +She could not plead her sprained finger forever as an excuse for not +writing; so one day she put on a very tight glove and buttoned it over +her wrist, and then took a harder steel pen than she had ever used +before, and she sat down and wrote a few lines by way of experiment. It +was perfectly successful. Between the tight-fitting glove and the hard +steel pen her handwriting was so disguised that she herself would never +have known it, nor could any expert ever have detected it. So there was +no possible danger of any one at Blue Cliffs recognizing it as hers. + +Then, with this tightly-gloved hand and this hard steel pen, she sat +down and wrote a letter to Emma Cavendish, saying that she could no +longer deny herself the pleasure of writing to her darling, though her +finger was still so stiff that she wrote with great difficulty, as might +be seen in the cramped and awkward letters, "all looking as if they had +epileptic fits," she jestingly added. + +When Miss Cavendish replied to this letter she said that indeed Mrs. +Grey's hand must have been very severely sprained, and that she herself +would never have known the writing. + +After this all Mrs. Grey's letters to Miss Cavendish were written by a +hand buttoned up in a tight glove, and with a hard steel pen, and +continued to be stiff and unrecognizable. + +And in all Emma's answers there was surprise and regret expressed for +the long-continued lameness of Mary Grey's right hand. + +One day Emma communicated a piece of neighborhood gossip that quite +startled Mary Grey. + +"You will be sorry to hear," she wrote, "that our excellent pastor, Dr. +Goodwin, has had a paralytic stroke that disables him from preaching. +The Rev. Mr. Lyle, formerly of Richmond, is filling the pulpit." + +Mary Grey was very much interested in this piece of news, that her own +old admirer should be even temporarily located so near Blue Cliffs, with +the possibility of his being permanently settled there. + +She had not heard from this devoted clerical lover once since she had +left Mount Ascension. She did not understand his sudden withdrawal, and +she had often, with much mental disquietude, associated his unexpected +estrangement with her own unceremonious dismissal from her situation as +drawing-mistress at that academy. + +It is true that when they corresponded, in answer to his ardent +love-letters, she would write only such kind and friendly notes that +could never have compromised her in any way, even if they should have +been read in open court or published in a Sunday newspaper. + +And he had sometimes complained of the formal friendliness of these +letters from one for whom he had truly professed the most devoted love, +and who had also promised to be his wife--if ever she was anybody's. + +But Mrs. Grey had artfully soothed his wounded affection without +departing from her prudential system of writing only such letters as she +would not fear to have fall in the hands of any living creature, until +suddenly he ceased to write at all. + +At the time of this defection she had been too much taken up with her +purpose of winning the affection of the wealthy and distinguished +statesman, Governor Cavendish, to pay much attention to the fact of the +Rev. Mr. Lyle's falling away. + +But in these later and calmer days at Blue Cliffs and at Charlottesville +she had pondered much on the circumstance in connection with her +simultaneous dismissal from her situation at Mount Ascension; and she +thought all but too likely that Mr. Lyle had, like Mrs. St. John, +learned something of her past life so much to her disadvantage as to +induce him to abandon her. + +And now to have him so near Blue Cliffs as Wendover parish church +seemed dangerous to Mary Grey's interests with the Cavendish family. + +Sometimes the unhappy woman seemed to think that the net of Fate was +drawing around her. Mrs. Fanning was at Blue Cliffs. Mr. Lyle was at +Wendover. What next? + +Why, next she got a letter from Emma Cavendish that struck all the color +from her cheeks and all the courage from her soul. + +Miss Cavendish, after telling the domestic and social news of the week, +and adding that the Rev. Mr. Lyle was now settled permanently at +Wendover, as the assistant of the Rev. Dr. Goodwin, whose health +continued to be infirm, wrote: + + "And now, dearest Mrs. Grey, I have reserved the best news for + the last. + + "Laura Lytton and Electra have left school 'for good.' They will + arrive here this evening on a visit of some months. + + "Next week we are all going to Charlottesville, to be present at + the Commencement of the Law College, when Mr. Alden Lytton + expects to take his degree. + + "Aunt Fanning, whose health is much improved, will accompany us + as our chaperon, and the Rev. Mr. Lyle will escort us. + + "So you see, my dear Mrs. Grey, though you will not come to us, + we will go to you. + + "But we will form quite a large party. And I know that + Charlottesville will receive an inundation of visitors for the + Commencement, and that there will be a pressure upon all the + hotels and boarding-houses. Therefore I will ask you to be so + good as to seek out and engage apartments for us. There will be + four ladies and one gentleman to be accommodated; we shall want + at least three rooms--one for Mr. Lyle, one for Aunt Fanning and + myself, and one for Laura and Electra. We want our rooms all in + the same house, if possible; if not, then Mr. Lyle can be + accommodated apart from the set; but we women must remain + together. + + "Please see to it at once, and write and let me know. + + "By the way: after Mr. Lytton takes his degree he will make us a + short visit at Blue Cliffs, after which he will go to Richmond to + commence the practice of law, where _he_ thinks the prestige of + his father's name, and _I_ think his own talents, will speedily + advance him to fame and fortune. + + "But what am I telling you? That of which you probably know much + more than I do; for of course Mr. Lytton must have informed you + of his plans. + + "We confidently hope to persuade you to accompany us when we go + back to Blue Cliffs. Our summer party will be such a very + pleasant one: there will be Laura, Electra, Mrs. Grey and Aunt + Fanning among the ladies, and Mr. Lyle, Mr. Lytton and Dr. Jones + among the gentlemen. I shall have your rooms made ready for you." + +There was much more of kind and affectionate planning for the summer's +work and pleasure. But Mary Grey read no further. Dropping the letter +upon her lap, she clasped her hands and raised her pale face toward +heaven, murmuring: + +"She is coming here. I dare not meet her. I must go away again. I am +hunted to death--I am hunted to death! I was hunted from Blue Cliffs, +and now I am hunted from Charlottesville! Where shall I go next? To +Richmond? Yes, of course, to Richmond! And there I will stay. For there +is room to hide myself from any one whom I do not wish to see. And in a +few weeks _he_ will go to Richmond to settle there permanently. But I +will go some few weeks in advance of him, so that he will never be able +to say that I followed him there!" + +Having formed this resolution, Mary Grey then set about, immediately to +engage lodgings for the Blue Cliffs party. + +She knew that her hostess, the bishop's widow, had one vacant room: that +would accommodate two of the ladies, and therefore she resolved to make +a virtue of her own necessities and give up her own room for the +accommodation of the other two. + +She proposed this plan to her hostess, who at first opposed the +self-sacrifice, as she called it. But finally, being persuaded by Mary +Grey, she yielded the point, and fervently praised the beautiful, +unselfish spirit of her young guest, who was ever so ready to sacrifice +her own comfort for the convenience of others. + +Mary Grey then wrote to Miss Cavendish, telling her of the arrangement, +and then explaining: + + "You must know, my dear girl, that my health is not improved. For + the last twelve months it has been growing steadily worse. My + nervous system is shattered. I can not bear noise or tumult or + excitement. I dread even to meet strangers. Therefore I think I + shall go away and stay during this carnival of a Commencement. I + hope that you and Laura will occupy my vacant chamber. The + chamber adjoining is already vacant, and I have engaged it for + Mrs. Fanning and Electra. I know I have paired your party off + differently from _your_ pairing; but then I like the thought of + having you and Laura in my deserted chamber. I think I shall go + to some very quiet village far from the bustle of company. + Forgive me for not remaining to meet you, and set me down as + very, _very_ nervous; or, if that will not excuse me in your + eyes, set me down as _crazy_; but never, _never_ as ungrateful or + unloving. + + MARY. + + "P.S.--Mr. Lyle must find accommodations at the hotel." + +Having finished, sealed and dispatched this letter, Mary Grey went to +work and packed her three great trunks for her journey. That kept her +busy all the remainder of the day. + +The next morning she dressed herself and went to call upon her friends +and bid them good-bye. They were very much surprised at the suddenness +of her departure; but she explained to one and all that she rather +wished to avoid the crowd, bustle and confusion of Commencement week, +and had therefore determined to leave town for a few days, and that her +rooms with the bishop's widow would be occupied in the meantime by her +friend Miss Cavendish, of Blue Cliffs, and her party. + +This made an impression upon all minds that "sweet Mrs. Grey," with her +spirit of self-sacrifice, had left town at this most interesting period +for no other reason than to give up her quarters to her friends. + +Lastly, Mary Grey went to her pastor and obtained from him a letter to +the pastor of St. John's Church in Richmond. + +Furnished with this, she would obtain entrance into the most respectable +society in the city, if she desired to do so. + +On the third day from this, Mrs. Grey left Charlottesville for Richmond. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +AN OLD FACE REAPPEARS. + + +What the Carnival is to Rome, and the Derby is to London, the +Commencement week of its great University is to the little country town +of Charlottesville. + +It is looked forward to for weeks and months. A few days previous to +Commencement week the little town begins to fill. The hotels and +boarding-houses are crowded with the relatives and friends of the +students and professors, and even with numbers of the country gentry, +who though they may have no relative at the University yet take an +interest in the proceedings of Commencement week. + +Emma Cavendish and her friends were therefore peculiarly fortunate in +having had comfortable apartments pre-engaged for them. + +It was late on the evening of the Monday beginning the important week +that they arrived at Charlottesville, and proceeded at once to the house +of the bishop's widow. + +They found the house hospitably lighted up, and open. + +Their hostess, a dignified gentlewoman, received them with great +cordiality, and rather as guests than as lodgers. + +She showed the ladies to the two communicating rooms on the first floor +that they were to occupy--large, airy, pleasant rooms, with a fresh +breeze blowing from front to back. Each room had two neat white-draped +single beds in it. + +"If you please, Mrs. Wheatfield, which of these was Mrs. Grey's +apartment?" inquired Emma Cavendish. + +"This back room overlooking the flower-garden. But as the front room was +unoccupied she had the use of that also, whenever she wished it," +answered the bishop's widow. + +"I was very sorry to hear from her by letter that she would not be able +to remain here to receive us," said Miss Cavendish. + +"Ah, my dear, I was just as sorry to have her go away! A sweet woman she +is, Miss Cavendish," answered Mrs. Wheatfield. + +"Why did she go? Is her health so very bad, Mrs. Wheatfield?" + +"My dear, I think that her malady is more of the mind than of the body. +But I believe that she went away only to give up these rooms to you and +your friends, because there were no other suitable rooms to be obtained +for you in Charlottesville." + +"I am very sorry to hear that; for indeed I and my companions would +rather have given up our journey than have turned Mary Grey out of her +rooms. It was really too great a sacrifice on her part," said Emma +Cavendish, regretfully. + +"My dear, that angel is always making sacrifices, for that matter. But I +do think that _this_ sacrifice did not cost her much. Love made it +light. I feel sure she was delighted to be able to give up her quarters +to friends who could not in any other way have been accommodated in the +town," said the bishop's widow, politely. + +"I am sorry, however, not to have met her," murmured Emma Cavendish. + +"And now, ladies, here are the apartments. Arrange as to their +occupancy and distribution among yourselves as you please," said the +hostess, as she nodded pleasantly and left the room. + +The ladies had brought but little luggage for their week's visit, and it +had already arrived and was placed in their rooms. + +They washed, dressed their hair, changed their traveling-suits for +evening-dresses and went down into the parlor, where they found Alden +Lytton--who had walked over from the University to meet his sister--in +conversation with Mr. Lyle. + +There was quite a joyous greeting. But Alden had to be introduced to +Mrs. Fanning, who had changed so much in the years that had passed since +their last meeting that the young man would never have known her again. + +But every one remarked that when the lady and the student were +introduced to each other their mutual agitation could not be concealed. +And every one marveled about its cause. + +Alden Lytton found fair Emma Cavendish more beautiful than ever, and he +now no longer tried to deny to himself the truth that his heart was +devoted to her in the purest, highest, noblest love that ever inspired +man. + +"Do you know, Mr. Lytton, where Mrs. Grey has gone? She did not tell me +in her letter where she intended to go; I believe she had not then quite +made up her mind as to her destination," said Miss Cavendish. + +"I was not even aware of her departure until I learned it from Mrs. +Wheatfield this evening," answered Alden Lytton. + +"Then no one knows. But I suppose we shall learn when we hear from her," +said Emma, with a smile. + +Then Alden produced cards for the Commencement, with tickets inclosed +for reserved seats in the best part of the hall, which he had been +careful to secure for his party. These he gave into the charge of Mr. +Lyle, who was to attend the ladies to the University. + +And then, as it was growing late, the two gentlemen arose and took +leave. + +They left the house together and walked down the street as far as the +corner, where Alden Lytton paused and said: + +"Our ways separate here, I am sorry to say. I have to walk a mile out to +the University. Your hotel is about twenty paces up the next street, on +your right. You will be sure to find it." + +And Alden lifted his hat and was about to stride rapidly away when Mr. +Lyle laid his hand on his arm and said: + +"One moment. I did not know our paths parted so soon or I might have +spoken as we left the house. The fact is, I have a very large sum of +money--ten thousand dollars--sent me to be paid to you as soon as you +shall have taken your degree. It is to be employed in the purchase of a +law library and in the renting and furnishing of a law office in the +best obtainable location. I wish to turn this money over to you as soon +as possible." + +"It is from my unknown guardian, I presume," said Alden, gravely. + +"Yes, it is from your unknown guardian." + +"Then we will talk of this after the Commencement. I hardly know, Mr. +Lyle, whether I ought to accept anything more from this lavish +benefactor of ours. I may never be able to repay what we already owe +him." + +"You need have no hesitation in accepting assistance from this man, as I +have often assured you. But, as you say, we will talk of this some other +time, when we have more leisure. Good-night!" + +And the gentlemen separated: Alden Lytton striding westward toward the +University, and Mr. Lyle walking thoughtfully toward his hotel. + +His room had been secured and his key was in his pocket, so that he +possessed quite an enviable advantage over the crowd of improvident +travelers who thronged the office clamoring for quarters, and not half +of whom could by any possibility be accommodated. + +As it was long after the minister's usual hour for retiring, he walked +through the crowded office into the hall and up the stairs to his +room--a very small chamber, with one window and a single bed, both +window and bed neatly draped with white. + +Mr. Lyle sat down in a chair by the one little table, on which stood a +bright brass candlestick with a lighted spermaceti candle, and took from +his pocket a small Bible, which he opened with the intention of reading +his customary chapter before going to bed, when a rap at his door +surprised him. + +"Come in," he said, supposing that only a country waiter had come with +towels or water, or some other convenience. + +The door opened and a waiter indeed made his appearance. But he only +said: + +"A gemman for to see yer, sah!" and ushered in a stranger and closed the +door behind him. + +Mr. Lyle, much astonished, stared at the visitor, whom he thought he had +never seen before. + +The stranger was a tall, finely-formed, dark-complexioned and very +handsome man, notwithstanding that his raven hair was streaked with +silver, his brow lined with thought, and his fine black eyes rather +hollow. A full black beard nearly covered the lower part of his face. + +"Mr. Lyle," said the visitor, holding out his hand. + +"That is my name, sir; but you have the advantage of me," said the +minister. + +"You do not know me?" inquired the stranger in sad surprise. + +"I do not, indeed." + +"I am Victor Hartman!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE RETURNED EXILE. + + Danger, long travel, want, or woe, + Soon change the form that best we know; + For deadly fear can time outgo, + And blanch at once the hair; + Hard time can roughen form and face, + And grief can quench the eyes' bright grace; + Nor does old age a wrinkle trace + More deeply than despair. + --SCOTT. + + +"Victor Hartman!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle, in a tone of astonishment and joy, +as he sprang from his chair and grasped both the hands of the traveler +and shook them heartily--"Victor Hartman! My dear friend, I am so +delighted--and so surprised--to see you! Sit down--sit down!" he +continued, dragging forward a chair and forcing his visitor into it. +"But I never should have known you again," he concluded, gazing intently +upon the bronzed, gray, tall, broad-shouldered man before him. + +"I am much changed," answered the stranger, in a deep, mellifluous +voice, that reminded the hearer of sweet, solemn church music. + +"Changed! Why, you left us a mere stripling! You return to us a mature +man. To all appearance, you might be the father of the boy who went +away," said the minister, still gazing upon the stranger. + +"And yet the time has not been long; though indeed I have lived much in +that period," said the traveler, in the same rich, deep tone, and with +a smile that rendered his worn face bright and handsome for the moment. + +"Well, I am delighted to see you. But how is it that I have this joyful +surprise?" inquired the minister. + +"What brings me here, you would ask; and why did I not write and tell +you that I was coming?" said Hartman, with an odd smile. "Well, I will +explain. When I got your letter acknowledging the receipt of the last +remittance I sent to you for my children, I learned for the first time +by that same letter that my boy would graduate at this Commencement, and +hoped to take the highest honors of his college. Well, a steamer was to +sail at noon that very day. I thought I would like to be present at the +Commencement and see my boy take his degree. I packed my trunk in an +hour, embarked in the 'Porte d'Or' in another hour, and here I am." + +"That was prompt. When did you arrive?" + +"Our steamer reached New York on Thursday noon. I took the night train +for Washington, where I arrived at five on Friday morning. I took the +morning boat for Aquia Creek, and the train for Richmond and +Charlottesville. I got here about noon." + +"And you have not seen your _proteges_?" + +"Yes, I have seen my boy pass the hotel twice to-day. I knew him by his +likeness to his unfortunate father. But I did not make myself known to +him. I do not intend to do so--at least not at present." + +"Why not?" + +"Why not?" echoed Hartman, sorrowfully. "Ah, would he not shrink from me +in disgust and abhorrence?" + +"No; not if he were told the awful injustice that has been done you." + +"But if he were told, would he believe it? We have no proof that any +injustice has been done me, except those anonymous letters and the word +of that strange horseman who waylaid me on my tramp and thrust a bag of +gold in my hands, with the words, 'You never intended to kill Henry +Lytton, and you never killed him. Some one else intended to kill him, +and some one else killed him.'" + +"Have you ever heard anything more of that mysterious horseman?" + +"Not one word." + +"Have you no suspicion of his identity?" + +"None, beyond the strong conviction that I feel that he himself was the +homicide and the writer of the anonymous letters." + +"Well, I can not tell you why, but I always felt persuaded of your +innocence, even before the coming of those anonymous letters, and even +while _you_ were bitterly accusing yourself." + +"You knew it from intuition--inward teaching." + +"May I ask you, Hartman, _why_ after you discovered that you had nothing +to do with the death of Henry Lytton, you still determined to burden +yourself with the support and education of his children--a duty that was +first assumed by you as an atonement for an irreparable injury you +supposed you had done them?" + +"Why I still resolved to care for them after I learned that I had +nothing to do with their great loss? Indeed I can not tell you. +Perhaps--partly because I sympathized with them in a sorrow that was +common to us all, in so far as we all suffered from the same cause; +partly, I also think, because it was pleasant to have _some one_ to live +for and work for; partly because I was so grateful to find myself free +from blood guiltiness that I wished to educate those children as a +thank-offering to Heaven! It was also very pleasant to me to think of +this boy at college and this girl at school, and to hope that some day +they might come to look upon me with affection instead of with horror. +And then I took so much pride in talking to my brother miners about my +son at the University and my daughter at the Academy! And then, again, +your letters--every one of them telling of the progress my children made +and the credit they were doing me. I tell you, sir, all this was a great +comfort to me, and made me feel at home in this strange, lonesome +world," said the exile, warmly. + +"Hartman, you have a noble soul! You must have made a very great +pecuniary sacrifice for the sake of these young people," said the +minister, earnestly. + +"No, sir; no sacrifice at all. That was the strangest part of it; for it +seemed to me the more I gave the more I had." + +"How was that?" + +"I don't know how it was, sir; but such was the fact. But I will tell +you what I do know." + +"Yes, tell me, Hartman." + +"You may remember, Mr. Lyle, that when I told you I was going back to +California I explained to you that I knew a place where I felt sure +money was to be made." + +"Yes, I remember." + +"Well, sir, the place was a gully at the foot of a certain spur of the +mountains, called the Red Cleft. Now, at that time I knew very little of +geology. I know more now. Also, I had had but little experience in +mining; and, moreover, whenever I mentioned Red Ridge I was simply +laughed at by my mates. I was laughed out of giving the place a fair +trial. But even after I left the Gold State the idea of the treasure +hidden in the gully at the foot of Red Ridge haunted me day and night, +something always prompting me to go back there and dig. Sir, it was +intuition--inward teaching. When I went back to California I made for +Red Ridge. Sir, when I first went to Red Ridge I dug there eight weeks +without finding gold. That was the time my mates laughed at me. When I +next went back--the time I now speak of--I worked four hours and then +struck--struck one of the best paying mines in the Gold State. It is +worked by a company now, but I have half of all the shares." + +"You have been wonderfully blessed and prospered, Hartman." + +"Yes," said the traveler, reverently bowing his head; "for their sakes, +I have." + +"And for your own, I trust, Hartman." + +"Mr. Lyle--" + +"Well, Hartman." + +"May I ask you a favor?" + +"Certainly you may." + +"You addressed all your letters to me under the name of Joseph Brent." + +"Yes, certainly--at your request." + +"Continue, then, to call me Joseph Brent. That name is mine by act of +legislature." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, and I have a still better claim. It was the name of my +grandfather--my mother's father. It was also the name of his eldest son, +my uncle, who died recently a bachelor, in the State of Missouri, and +left me his farm there, on condition that I should take his name. I was +more anxious to have his name than his estate. So I applied to the +legislature, and the name that I had borrowed so long became my own of +right." + +"So I am to introduce you to my young friends as Mr. Joseph Brent?" + +"Yes, if you please. Let the name of poor Victor Hartman sink quietly +into the grave. And do not let them know that I was Victor Hartman, or +that Joseph Brent was ever their benefactor," said the exile, gravely. + +"I will keep your counsel so long as you require me to do so, hoping +that the time may speedily come when all shall be made as clear to these +young people as it is to me." + +"Now when will you introduce me to my children?" + +"To-morrow, after the ceremonies are concluded. But, my friend, it is a +little strange to hear you call these grown-up young people your +children, when you yourself can be but little older than the young man." + +"In years, yes. But in long experience, suffering, thought, how much +older I am than he is! You yourself said that, to all outward +appearance, I might be the father of the boy who went away two years +ago." + +"Yes, for you are very much changed--not only in your person, but in +dress and address." + +"You mean that I speak a little more correctly than I used to do? Well, +sir, in these two years all the time that was not spent in work was +spent in study. Or, rather, as study was to me the hardest sort of work, +it would be most accurate to say all the time not spent by me in manual +was spent in mental labor. I had had a good public-school education in +my boyhood. I wished to recover all I had lost, and to add to it. You +see, Mr. Lyle, I did not want my boy and girl to be ashamed of me when, +if ever, we should meet as friends," said Hartman, with his old smile. + +"That they could never be. Any other than grateful and affectionate they +could never be to you--if I know them." + +"I believe that too. I believe my children will love me when they +understand all." + +"Be sure they will. But, Hartman--by the way, I like the name of +Hartman, and I hope you will let me use it when we are alone, on +condition that I promise never to use it when we are in company." + +"As you please, Mr. Lyle." + +"Then, Hartman, I was about to say that when I hear you speak of Henry +Lytton's son and daughter as your boy and girl, the wonder comes over me +as to whether you never think of marriage--of a wife and children of +your own." + +"Mr. Lyle, since my mother went away to heaven I have never felt any +interest in any woman on earth. I have been interested in some girls, +but they happened to be children: and I could count them with the +fingers of one hand and have a finger or two left over. Let me see," +said Hartman, with his odd smile. "First there was Sal's Kid." + +"Sal's Kid?" echoed the minister, who had never heard the name before, +but thought it a very eccentric one. + +"Yes, Sal's Kid--a wild-eyed, elf-locked, olive-skinned little imp, +nameless, but nicknamed Sal's Kid, who lived in a gutter called Rat +Alley, down by the water-side in New York. I used to be fond of the +child when I was cook's galley-boy, and our ship was in port there. I +haven't seen her for ten years, yet I've never forgotten her. And I +would give a great deal to know whatever became of Sal's Kid. Probably +she has gone the way of the rest. They were all beggars, thieves, or +worse," added Hartman, with a deep sigh. + +"And the next?" inquired the minister, with a wish to recall his visitor +from sorrowful thoughts. + +"The next girl that interested me," continued Hartman, looking up with a +bright smile, as at the recollection of some celestial vision, "was as +different from this one as the purest diamond from a lump of charcoal. +She was a radiant blonde, with golden hair and sapphire eyes and a +blooming complexion. In the darkest hour of my life she appeared to me a +heavenly messenger! They were leading me from the Court House to the +jail, after my sentence. I was passing amid the hooting crowd, bowed +down with despair, when this fair vision beamed upon me and dispersed +the furies. She looked at me with heavenly pity in her eyes. She spoke +to me and told me to pray, and said that she too would pray for me. At +her look and voice the jeering crowd fell back in silence. I thought of +that picture of Dore's where the celestial visitant dispersed the +fiends. I have never, never seen her since." + +"And you do not know who she was?" + +"Her companions called her 'Emma.' That is all I know." + +"The third girl in whom you became interested?" + +"Is my child Laura Lytton, whom I have never seen. During the weeks I +was in Mr. Lytton's law office I never once beheld his son or daughter." + +"Then personally you are a stranger to both?" + +"Yes, personally I am a stranger to both. But to-morrow I hope to know +them, although I can not be perfectly made known to them. Remember, Mr. +Lyle, I do not wish them to know that I was ever Victor Hartman, or that +Joseph Brent was ever their benefactor." + +"I will remember your caution. But I will hope, as I said before, for +the time when they shall know and esteem you as I know and esteem you." + +"Your confidence in me has been, and is, one of my greatest earthly +supports," said Hartman, earnestly, as he arose to bid his friend +good-night. + +Long after his visitor had left him, Mr. Lyle sat at his window in an +attitude of deep thought. + +The unexpected meeting with Victor Hartman had deprived him of all power +or wish to sleep. + +He sat at the window watching the crowd that thronged the village +streets with his outward eyes, but reviewing all the past with his inner +vision. It was long after midnight before he retired. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +VICTOR MEETS "HIS CHILDREN." + + +The next morning revealed the full measure of the crowd that filled the +little country town to overflowing. And the road leading from the +village westward to the University was crowded with foot-passengers, +horsemen and carriages of every description. + +Those who had no reserved seats set out early, to secure the most +eligible of the unreserved places. + +The ceremonies were to commence at twelve noon. + +Our party, consisting of Emma Cavendish, Laura Lytton, Electra Coroni, +Mrs. Fanning, Mrs. Wheatfield and Dr. Jones occupied the whole of the +third form from the front. + +They were in their places just a few moments before the overture was +played. + +The hall was crowded to overflowing. Not only was every form filled, but +chairs had to be set in the space between the audience and the +orchestra, and also in the middle and side aisles, to accommodate ladies +who could not otherwise be seated; while every foot of standing room was +occupied by gentlemen. + +Mr. Lyle had given up his seat next to Laura Lytton in favor of a lady, +and had explained to his party that he had a friend from San Francisco +who was present and with whom he could stand up. + +And he went away and took up his position in a corner below the +platform, beside Victor Hartman, but entirely out of the range of his +party's vision. + +I will not weary my readers with any detailed account of this +Commencement, which resembled all other college commencements in being +most interesting to those most concerned. + +There was an overture from a new opera. + +Then there was an opening oration by one of the learned professors of +the University, which was voted by the savants to be a masterpiece of +erudition and eloquence, but which the young people present found +intolerably dull and stupid. And when the great man sat down a storm of +applause followed him. + +Then ensued the usual alternation of opera music and orations. + +And the young people listened to the opera music, and yawned behind +their fans over the orations. + +And the savants gave heed to the orations, and closed their senses, if +not their ears, to the music. + +At length the time for the distribution of the diplomas arrived, and the +names of the successful graduates were called out, and each in turn went +up to receive his diploma and make the customary deep bow, first to the +faculty and then to the audience. + +Then followed the offertory of beautiful bouquets and baskets of flowers +from friends to the graduates. But the most beautiful offering there was +a basket of delicate silver wire filled with fragrant pure white lilies +sent by Emma Cavendish to Alden Lytton. + +Laura Lytton, in a patriotic mood, sent a bouquet composed of red, white +and blue flowers only. + +The other ladies of the party sent baskets of geraniums. + +The valedictory address was delivered by Alden Lytton, who had, besides, +taken the highest honors of the college. + +His address was pronounced to be a great success. And his retiring bow +was followed by thunders of applause from the audience. + +There were several proud and happy fathers there that day; but perhaps +the proudest and the happiest man present was Victor Hartman. + +With tearful eyes and tremulous tones he said, as he grasped Mr. Lyle's +arm: + +"My boy pays me for all--my boy pays me for all! He is a grand fellow!" + +The people were all going out then. + +"Come," said Mr. Lyle, himself moved by the generous emotion of Victor. +"Come, let me introduce you to your boy." + +"No, not now. Let me go away by myself for a little while. I will see +you an hour later at the hotel," said Hartman, as he wrung his friend's +hand and turned away. + +Mr. Lyle joined his party, with whom he found the most honored graduate +of the day, who was holding his silver basket of lilies in his hand and +warmly thanking the fair donor. + +Mr. Lyle shook hands with Alden and heartily congratulated him on his +collegiate honors, adding: + +"We shall see you on the Bench yet, Mr. Lytton." + +Alden bowed and laughingly replied that he should feel it to be his +sacred duty to get there, if he could, in order to justify his friend's +good opinion. + +"But what have you done with your Californian, Mr. Lyle?" inquired Laura +Lytton. + +"Sent him back to his hotel. By the way, ladies, he is a stranger here. +Will you permit me to bring him to see you this evening?" + +"Certainly, Mr. Lyle," promptly replied Emma Cavendish, speaking for +all. + +But then she gave a questioning glance toward her aunt, the chaperon of +the party. + +"Of course," said Mrs. Fanning, in answer to that glance. "Of course the +Reverend Mr. Lyle's introduction is a sufficient passport for any +gentleman to any lady's acquaintance." + +Mr. Lyle bowed and said: + +"Then I will bring him at eight o'clock this evening." + +And, with another bow, he also left the party and hurried off to the +hotel. + +That evening, at eight o'clock, the three young ladies were seated alone +together in the front drawing-room of their boarding-house. Their +elderly friends were not present. + +Dr. Jones was dining at the college with Alden Lytton and his +fellow-graduates. + +Mrs. Fanning, fatigued with the day's excitement, had retired to a +dressing-gown and sofa in her own room. + +Mrs. Wheatfield was in consultation with her book concerning the next +day's bill of fare. + +Thus the three beauties were left together, and very beautiful they +looked. + +Emma Cavendish, the "radiant blonde, with the golden hair and sapphire +eyes and blooming complexion," was dressed in fine pure white tulle, +with light-blue ribbons. + +Electra, the wild-eyed, black-haired, damask-cheeked brunette, was +dressed in a maize-colored silk, with black lace trimmings. + +Laura Lytton, the stout, wholesome, brown-haired and brown-eyed lassie, +wore a blue _barege_ trimmed, like Electra's dress, with black lace. + +The room was brilliant with gas-light, and they were waiting for their +friends and visitors. + +Dr. Jones had promised to return, and bring Alden with him, by eight +o'clock at latest. And Mr. Lyle had promised to come and bring "the +Californian." + +The clock struck eight and with dramatic punctuality the bell rang. + +The next moment the little page of the establishment opened the +drawing-room door and announced: + +"Mr. Lyle and a gemman." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +AN INTRODUCTION. + + +The three young ladies looked up, to see Mr. Lyle enter the room, +accompanied by a tall, finely-formed, dark-complexioned man, with deep +dark eyes, and black hair and full black beard, both lightly streaked +with silver, which, together with a slight stoop, gave him the +appearance of being much older than he really was. + +Mr. Lyle bowed to the young ladies, and then, taking his companion up to +Emma Cavendish, he said, with old-fashioned formality: + +"Miss Cavendish, permit me to present to you my friend Mr. Brent, of San +Francisco." + +"I am glad to see you, Mr. Brent," said the young lady, with a graceful +bend of her fair head. + +But in an instant the Californian seemed to have lost his +self-possession. + +He stared for a moment almost rudely at the young lady: he turned red +and pale, drew a long breath; then, with an effort, recovered himself +and bowed deeply. + +Miss Cavendish was surprised; but she was too polite and self-possessed +to let her surprise appear. She mentally ascribed the disturbance of her +visitor to some passing cause. + +Mr. Lyle, who had not noticed his companion's agitation, now presented +him to Laura Lytton and to Electra Coroni. + +To Laura he bowed gravely and calmly. + +But when he met the wild eyes of Electra he started violently and +exclaimed: + +"Sal's--" then stopped abruptly, bowed and took the chair that his +friend placed for him. + +He sat in perfect silence, while Emma Cavendish, pitying, without +understanding, his awkwardness, tried to make conversation by +introducing the subject of California and the gold mines. + +But Victor Hartman replied with an effort, and frequently and furtively +looked at Emma, and looked at Electra, and then put his hand to his head +in a perplexed manner. + +At length his embarrassment became obvious even to unobservant Mr. Lyle, +who longed for an opportunity of asking him what the matter was. + +But before that opportunity came there was another ring at the street +door-bell, followed by the entrance of Dr. Jones and Alden Lytton. + +The last-comers greeted the young ladies and Mr. Lyle, and acknowledged +the presence of the stranger with a distant bow. + +But then Mr. Lyle arose and asked permission to introduce his friend Mr. +Brent, of California. + +And Dr. Jones and Mr. Lytton shook hands with the Californian and +welcomed him to Virginia. + +Then Alden Lytton, who had some dim dreams of going to California to +commence life, with the idea of one day becoming Chief Justice of the +State, began to draw the stranger out on the subject. + +Victor Hartman, the unknown and unsuspected benefactor, delighted to +make the acquaintance of "his boy," and, to learn all his half-formed +wishes and purposes, talked freely and enthusiastically of the Gold +State and its resources and prospects. + +"If all that I have heard about the condition of society out there be +true, however, it must be a much better place for farmers and mechanics, +tradesmen and laborers, than for professional men." + +"What have you heard, then, of the condition of society out there?" +inquired Victor. + +"Well, I have heard that the climate is so healthy that the well who go +there never get sick, and the sick who go there get well without the +doctor's help. And, furthermore, that all disputes are settled by the +fists, the bowie-knife, or the revolver, without the help of lawyer, +judge or jury! So, you see, if all that is told of it is true, it is a +bad place for lawyers and doctors." + +"'If all that is told of it is true?' There is not a word of it true! It +is all an unpardonable fabrication," said Victor Hartman, so indignantly +and solemnly that Alden burst out laughing as he answered: + +"Oh, of course I know it is an exaggeration! I did think of trying my +fortune in the Gold State; but upon reflection I have decided to devote +my poor talents to my mother state, Virginia. And not until she +practically disowns me will I desert her." + +"Well said, my dear bo--I mean Mr. Lytton!" assented the Californian. + +He had begun heartily, but ended by correcting himself with some +embarrassment. + +Alden looked up for an instant, a little surprised by his disturbance; +but ascribed it to the awkwardness of a man long debarred from ladies' +society, as this miner seemed to have been. + +Gradually Victor Hartman recovered his composure and talked +intelligently and fluently upon the subject of gold mining, Chinese +emigration, and so forth. + +Only when he would chance to meet the full gaze of Electra's "wild +eyes," or catch the tones of Emma's mellifluous voice, then, indeed, he +would show signs of disturbance. He would look or listen, and put his +hand to his forehead with an expression of painful perplexity. + +At ten o'clock the gentlemen arose to bid the young ladies good-night. + +It was then arranged that the whole party should visit the University +the next day and go through all the buildings on a tour of inspection. + +When the visitors had gone, Electra suddenly inquired: + +"Well, what do you think of the Californian?" + +"I think him very handsome," said Laura, "but decidedly the most awkward +man I ever saw in all the days of my life. Except in the matter of his +awkwardness he seems to be a gentleman." + +"Oh, that is nothing! One of the most distinguished men I ever met in my +father's house--a gentleman by birth, education and position, a +statesman of world-wide renown--was unquestionably the most awkward +human being I ever saw in my life. He knew very well how to manage men +and nations, but he never knew what to do with his feet and hands: he +kept shuffling them about in the most nervous and distracting manner," +said Emma Cavendish, in behalf of the stranger. + +"Somehow or other that man's face haunts me like a ghost," mused +Electra, dreamily. + +"So it does me," quickly spoke Emma. "I feel sure that I have met those +sad, wistful dark eyes _somewhere_ before." + +"I'll tell you both what. Whether you have ever met him before or not, +he _thinks_ he has seen you. He seemed to me to be trying to recollect +_where_ all the evening," said Laura Lytton, with her air of +positiveness. + +"Then that might account for his awkwardness and embarrassment," added +Emma. + +"But he is certainly very handsome," concluded Electra, as she took her +candle to retire. + +Meanwhile the four gentlemen walked down the street together to a +corner, where they bade each other good-night and separated--Dr. Jones +and Alden Lytton to walk out to the University, and Mr. Lyle and Victor +Hartman to go to their hotel. + +"What on earth was the matter with you, Victor?" inquired Mr. Lyle, as +they walked on together. + +"What?" exclaimed Hartman, under his breath, and stopping short in the +street. + +"Yes, what! I never saw a man so upset without an adequate cause in all +my life." + +"Don't let us go into the house yet," said Victor; for they were now +before the door of the hotel. "It is only ten o'clock, and a fine night. +Take a turn with me down some quiet street, and I will tell you." + +"Willingly," agreed Mr. Lyle; and they walked past the hotel and out +toward the suburbs of the little town. + +"Mr. Lyle, I have seen them both!" exclaimed Victor, when they were out +of hearing of every one else. + +"Both? Whom have you seen, Hartman?" inquired the minister a little +uneasily, as if he feared his companion was not quite sane. + +"First, I have seen again the heavenly vision that appeared and +dispersed the furies from around me on that dark day when I passed, a +condemned criminal, from the Court House to the jail," replied Victor +Hartman, with emotion. + +"Hartman, my poor fellow, are you mad?" + +"No; but it was enough to make me so. To meet one of them, whom I never +expected to see again in this world, would have been enough to upset me +for a while; but to meet both, and to meet them together, who were so +widely apart in place and in rank, I tell you it was bewildering! I felt +as if I was under the influence of opium and in a delightful dream from +which I should soon awake. I did not quite believe it all to be real. I +do not quite believe it to be so yet. Have I seen that celestial +visitant again?" he inquired, putting his hand to his head in the same +confused manner. + +"Now, which one of these young ladies do you take to have been your +'celestial visitant,' as you most absurdly call her?" + +"Oh, the fair, golden-haired, azure-eyed angel, robed so appropriately +in pure white!" + +"That was Miss Emma Cavendish," said Mr. Lyle, very uneasily; "and you +talk of her like a lover, Hartman--and like a very mad lover too! But +oh, I earnestly implore you, do not become so very mad, so frenzied as +to let yourself love Emma Cavendish! By birth, education and fortune she +is one of the first young ladies in the country, and a bride for a +prince. Do not, I conjure you, think of loving her yourself!" + +Victor Hartman laughed a little light laugh, that seemed to do him good, +as he answered: + +"Do not be afraid. I worship her too much to think of loving her in the +way you mean. And, besides, if I am not greatly mistaken, _my boy_ has +been before me." + +"Alden Lytton?" + +"Yes, sir. I saw it all. I was too much interested not to see it. My boy +and my angel like one another. Heaven bless them both! They are worthy +of each other. They will make a fine pair. He so handsome; she so +beautiful! He so talented; she so lovely! His family is quite as good as +hers. And as for a fortune, his shall equal hers!" said Victor, warmly. + +"Will you give away all your wealth to make your 'boy' happy?" inquired +Mr. Lyle, with some emotion. + +"No! The Red Cleft mine is not so easily exhausted. Besides, in any +case, I should save something for my girl She must have a marriage +portion too!" + +"You really ought to have a guardian appointed by the court to take care +of you and your money, Victor. You will give it all away. And, +seriously, it grieves me to see you so inclined to rob yourself so +heavily to enrich others, even such as these excellent young people," +said Mr. Lyle, with feeling. + +"Be easy! When I have enriched them both I shall still have an +unexhausted gold mine! By the way, parson--parson!" + +"Well, Hartman?" + +"I saw something else beside the love between my angel and my boy. I +saw--saw a certain liking between my girl and my friend." + +If the bright starlight had been bright enough Victor Hartman might have +seen the vivid blush that mantled all over the ingenuous face of Stephen +Lyle. + +"I certainly admire Miss Lytton very much. She is a genuine girl," said +Mr. Lyle, as composedly as if his face was not crimson. + +"And I see she certainly admires you very much. She evidently thinks you +are a genuine man. So, my dear friend, go in and win. And my girl shall +not miss her marriage portion," said Hartman, cordially. + +Mr. Lyle was beginning to feel a little embarrassed at the turn the +conversation had taken, so he hastened to change it by saying: + +"You told me that you had met them _both_ whom you never had expected to +see again in this world. One was Miss Cavendish, your 'heavenly vision;' +who was the other?" + +"Can you be at a loss to know? There were but three young ladies +present. My own girl, whom I went to see and did expect to meet; Miss +Cavendish, whom you have just identified as one of the two alluded to, +and the brilliant little creature whom you introduced by a heathenish +sort of name which I have forgotten." + +"Miss Electra?" + +"Aye, that was the name; but however you call her, I knew her in Rat +Alley as Sal's Kid." + +"What!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle, stopping short and trying to gaze through +the darkness into the face of his companion; for Mr. Lyle had never +happened to hear of the strange vicissitudes of Electra's childhood. + +"She is Sal's Kid, I do assure you. Her face is too unique ever to be +mistaken. I could never forget or fail to recognize those flashing eyes +and gleaming teeth. And, I tell you, I would rather have found her again +as I found her to-night than have discovered another gold mine as rich +as that of Red Cleft." + +"Hartman, you were never more deceived in your life. That young lady, +Electra Coroni, is the granddaughter of Dr. Beresford Jones, and is the +sole heiress of Beresford Manors. She was educated at the Mount +Ascension Academy for Young Ladies in this State, from which she has +just graduated." + +"Whoever she is, or whatever she is, or wherever she lives now, when I +knew her she was Sal's Kid, and lived in Rat Alley, New York. And she +knew me as Galley Vick, the ship cook's boy." + +"Hartman, you have certainly 'got a bee in your bonnet!'" + +"We shall see. She almost recognized me to-night. She will quite know me +soon," answered Victor, as they turned their steps toward their hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +VICTOR AND ELECTRA. + + Heaven has to all allotted, soon or late, + Some lucky revolution of their fate; + Whose motions, if we watch and guide with skill-- + For human good depends on human will-- + Our fortune rolls as from a smooth descent, + And from a first impression takes its bent; + But if unseized, she glides away like wind, + And leaves repenting folly far behind, + Now, now she meets you with a glorious prize, + And spreads her locks before her as she flies. + --DRYDEN. + + +The next morning at the appointed hour the Rev. Mr. Lyle and Victor +Hartman left their hotel together and went to Mrs. Wheatfield's, to +escort the ladies to the University, where Dr. Jones and Alden Lytton +were to meet them and introduce them to the president. The two gentlemen +found the young ladies already dressed and waiting. + +Miss Cavendish explained that her aunt did not care about seeing more of +the University than she had already seen, and preferred to remain in the +house with the bishop's widow and rest that day. + +And so, under the circumstances, they--Miss Cavendish and her young +friends--had decided not to have a carriage, but to take advantage of +the fine morning and walk the short mile that lay between the village +and its great seat of learning. + +Nothing could have pleased their escorts better than this plan. + +And soon they--the party of five--set out upon the pleasant country road +that led out to the University. + +Emma Cavendish and Laura Lytton led the way, and by Laura's side walked +the Rev. Mr. Lyle. Electra dropped a little behind, and was attended by +Victor Hartman. + +They talked of the fine morning and of the beautiful country, of the +grand Commencement of the preceding day and of the University they were +going to see; but they talked in an absent-minded manner, as if, indeed, +they were both thinking of something else. + +This lasted until they were half-way to the place, when at length +Electra turned suddenly upon Victor and said: + +"Do you know, Mr. Brent, that your face seems a very familiar one to +me?" + +"Indeed!" said Victor, bending his head nearer to her. + +"Yes, indeed! Your face struck me as being familiar the first moment I +saw you, and this impression has grown deeper every moment we have been +walking together; and now I _know_ of whom you remind me," answered +Electra; and then she paused and looked at him. + +He made no remark. + +"You do not care to know who that was, it seems," she said. + +"Oh, yes, I do, I assure you, Miss Coroni, if you please to tell me!" + +"Then you remind me of a poor lad whom I once knew and liked very much +in New York, when I was as poor as himself," said Electra, meaningly. + +"It is very kind of you to remember the poor lad after so many years and +so many changes," replied Victor. + +"I wonder if that poor lad ever thinks of _me_, 'after so many years and +so many changes?'" murmured Electra, musingly. + +"I don't know. Tell me his name, and then perhaps I can answer your +question. I have roamed around the world a good deal and seen a great +many different sorts of people. Who knows but I may have met your poor +lad? Let us have his name," said Victor, gravely. + +They were both, to use a household phrase, "beating about the bush." + +"Oh, he was too poor to own a name! But he was cook's boy on board a +merchantman, and they called him 'Galley Vick.' I never knew him by any +other name. Did you ever see him at all?" + +"Oh, yes, I've seen him! A good-for-nothing little vagabond he was! No, +I don't suppose he ever dares to think about such a fine young lady as +you are. But he cherishes the memory of a poor little girl he once knew +in Rat Alley, New York. And only the day before yesterday, when I +happened to be with him, he was saying how much he would give to know +what had become of that poor little girl." + +"Yes, it was very nice of him to remember her," said Electra, musingly. + +"You say that you knew the poor lad in New York. Perhaps, as they were +so much together, you may have known the poor little girl also?" said +Victor. + +"I can not tell you unless you give me her name. There were so many +poor little girls in New York," answered Electra, shaking her head. + +"_She_, like the boy, was too poor then to own a name. They called her +'Sal's Kid.' I never knew her by any other name," answered Victor. + +And then their eyes met, and both laughed and impulsively put out their +hands, which were then clasped together. + +"I knew you at the very first sight, Vick," said Electra, giving full +way to her feelings of pleasure in meeting her old playmate again. + +"And so did I you. Heaven bless you, child! I am so happy and thankful +to find you here, so healthy and prosperous. You were a sickly, poor +little thing when I knew you," said Victor, with much emotion. + +"I was a famished poor little thing, you mean, food has made all the +difference, Victor," laughed Electra. + +"My name is Joseph Brent, my dear," said Hartman, who almost trembled to +hear the old name spoken. + +"Ah, but Sal's Kid knew you only as Galley Vick. I thought Vick was the +short for Victor. But it seems you really had a name all the time as +well as I had, though neither of us suspected we possessed such an +appendage." + +Hartman bowed in silence. + +"And now I suppose you would like to know how it happens that you find +poor little ragged, famished, sickly Sal's Kid, who used to live in Rat +Alley among thieves and tramps, here--well lodged, well dressed and in +good company?" + +"Yes, I really would." + +"Well, it was 'all along of' a grandfather." + +"A grandfather!" + +"Yes, a grandfather. I really had a grandfather! And I have him still. +And you have seen him, and his name is Dr. Beresford Jones. And, +moreover, I had a great-grandfather back of _him_; and also forefathers +behind _them_, and ancestors extending away back to antiquity. In fact, +I think they ran away back to Adam!" + +"I dare say they did," answered Victor, with a smile; "but tell me about +that grandfather." + +"Well, you must know that he was wealthy. He owned Beresford Manors. He +had one child, 'sole daughter of the house.' She married a poor young +Italian music-master against her father's will. Her father cast her off. +Her husband took her to New York, where they fell by degrees into the +deepest destitution. They both died of cholera, leaving me to the care +of the miserable beings who were their fellow-lodgers in the old +tenement house. I believe I was passed from the hands of one beggar to +those of another, until my identity was lost and my real name forgotten. +But I do not clearly remember any of my owners except Sal. And I was +called 'Sal's Kid.'" + +"It was then I knew you," said Victor. + +"So it was. Well, you know all about that period. It was soon after you +went to sea that Sal's husband, being mad with drink and jealousy, +struck his wife a fatal blow and killed her." + +"Horrible!" + +"Yes, horrible! I have heard since that the man died of _mania-a-potu_ +in the Tombs, before his trial came on." + +"And you?" + +"I was taken by the Commissioners of Charity and put into the Orphan +Asylum at Randall's Island." + +"And how did your grandfather ever find you there, where your very name +was lost?" + +"You may well ask that. My name was lost. I suppose, hearing me called +Sal's Kid, they mistook that for Sal Kidd. Any way they registered my +name on the books of the Island as Sarah Kidd." + +Victor laughed at this piece of ingenuity on the part of the +authorities, and again expressed wonder as to how her grandfather ever +found her. + +"If I were a heathen, I should say he found me by chance. It looked +like it. You see, he had met with misfortunes. His wife--my +grandmother--died. And he was growing old, and his home was lonely and +his life was dreary. And so he relented toward his poor daughter, and +even toward her husband." + +"But too late!" put in Victor. + +"Yes; too late. He relented too late," sighed Electra. "He went to New +York, where they had been living when he had last heard of them, and +after making the most diligent inquiries he only learned that they had +been dead several years, and had left an orphan girl in great +destitution. Well, he advertised for the child, offering large rewards +for her discovery." + +"But in vain, I suppose?" said Victor. + +"Ah, yes, in vain, for I was at Randall's Island, registered under +another name." + +"The case seemed hopeless," said Victor. + +"Entirely hopeless. And then, partly from his disappointment and partly +from seeing so much of suffering among children, he became a sort of +city missionary. It was in his character of missionary that he went one +day to an examination of the pupils of the girls' school on Randall's +Island. There he saw me, and recognized me by my striking likeness to my +mother. Indeed he has since told me that I am a counterpart of what my +mother was at my age." + +"And your face is such a very peculiar and, I may say, unique face, that +the likeness could not have been accidental, I suppose," observed +Victor. + +"That is what he thought. Well, without saying a word to me then of his +recognition, he commenced with the slight clew that he had in his hands +and pursued investigations that in a few days proved me to be the child +of Sebastian and Electra Coroni. Then he came to the Island and took me +away, and put me to school at Mount Ascension. There I made the +acquaintance of the young lady friend that I am now staying with. Miss +Cavendish is my cousin. Last month I graduated from Mount Ascension. And +on the first of next month I am going to Beresford Manors, to commence +my new life there as my grandfather's housekeeper. And, Victor--I beg +your pardon!--Mr. Brent, I hope that you will come and visit us there," +concluded Electra, with a smile. + +"But how would your grandfather, Dr. Beresford Jones of Beresford +Manors, take a visit from a poor adventurer like me?" inquired Victor. + +"He will take it very kindly; for he also will ask you to come," said +Electra. + +Victor bowed and walked on in silence. + +Electra spoke again: + +"I have told you without reserve how it was that I was so suddenly +raised from extreme poverty to wealth, and now--" + +She paused and looked at her companion. + +"And now you want to know how I came by my fortune?" smilingly inquired +Victor. + +"Yes, of course I do," answered Electra. + +"The explanation is short and simple enough. I became suddenly rich, as +some few other poor vagabonds have, by a fortunate stroke of the +pick--by a California gold mine," quietly answered Victor. + +"Oh!" exclaimed Electra. + +And she stopped and put him away from her a step, and stood and stared +at him. + +Victor laughed. And then they went on, for their companions were at the +gates of the University, waiting for them to come along. + +They entered the beautiful grounds occupied by the extensive buildings +of the University, and where several of the professors, as well as a few +of the students who had not yet left for the vacation, were taking their +morning walks. + +The visitors were soon met by Dr. Jones and Alden Lytton, who came up +together to welcome them. + +After the usual greetings, Alden introduced his party to several of the +professors, who received them with great courtesy, and attended them +through the various buildings, pointing out to them the most notable +objects of interest, and entertaining them with the history, statistics +and anecdotes of the institution. + +They were taken into the various libraries, where they saw collected +vast numbers of the most valuable books, among which were a few very +unique black letter and illuminated volumes of great antiquity. + +They were then led into the several halls, where were collected costly +astronomical and chemical apparatus. + +And finally they visited the museum, filled with cabinets of minerals, +shells, woods, fossils, and so forth. + +And after an interesting but very fatiguing tour of inspection, that +occupied four hours, they were invited to rest in the house of one of +the professors, where they were refreshed with a dainty lunch, after +which they returned to the village. + +And the evening was spent socially in Mrs. Wheatfield's drawing-room. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +A SURPRISE. + + +In the course of that evening they were surprised by a visit. It was +from Mr. Craven Kyte, who came to call on Miss Cavendish. + +He was invited into the drawing-room and introduced to the whole party. + +Mr. Kyte was in the deepest state of despondency. + +He told Miss Emma that a few days previous he had received a letter from +Mrs. Grey, saying that she was about to leave Charlottesville for a +little while, in order to give up her rooms to Miss Cavendish and her +party, and that she did not know exactly where she should go, but that +she would write and tell him as soon as she should get settled. + +"And since that, Miss Emma, I have not heard one word from her, nor do I +know where she is, or how she is, or how to find out," concluded Mr. +Kyte, in the most dejected tone. + +"How long has it been, Mr. Kyte?" inquired Miss Cavendish. + +"Five days," answered the young man, as solemnly as if he had said five +years. + +"That is but a short time. I do not think you have cause to be anxious +yet awhile," said Emma, with a smile. + +"But you haven't heard from her yourself even, have you, Miss Emma?" he +anxiously inquired. + +"Certainly not, else I should have told you at once," replied Miss +Cavendish. + +"For mercy's sake, you never came all the way from Wendover to +Charlottesville to ask that question, did you, Mr. Kyte?" inquired +irrepressible Electra, elevating her eye-brows. + +The lover, who had so unconsciously betrayed himself, blushed violently +and stammered forth: + +"No--not entirely. The fact is, for more than a year past I have been +watching and waiting for an opportunity to change my business from +Wendover to Charlottesville. And I came up partly about that also. But +as a--a friend of Mrs. Grey, I do feel anxious about her mysterious +absence and silence." + +"I assure you, Mr. Kyte, that Mrs. Grey is quite capable of taking +excellent care of herself," added plain-spoken Laura Lytton. + +"Come, Mr. Kyte, cheer up! We are going on a pilgrimage to Monticello +to-morrow and you must join our party," said Miss Cavendish, kindly. + +But Mr. Kyte excused himself, saying that he could not leave his +business long, and must start for Wendover the next morning. + +And soon after this he took leave. + +The next day was devoted by our party to a pious pilgrimage to the +shrine of classic Monticello, once the seat, now the monument of Thomas +Jefferson. + +The whole party, young and old, gentlemen and ladies, went. + +The bishop's widow forgot her housekeeping cares and took a holiday for +that day. + +And even Mrs. Fanning, who did not care to see the great University, +could not miss the opportunity of a pilgrimage to that mecca. + +The party was a large one, consisting of five ladies and four +gentlemen. + +And so it required two capacious carriages and two saddle horses to +convey them. + +They formed quite a little procession in leaving the village. + +In the first carriage rode Mrs. Fanning, Emma Cavendish, Electra and Dr. +Jones. + +In the second carriage rode Mrs. Wheatfield, Laura Lytton and Mr. Lyle. + +Alden Lytton and Victor Hartman rode on horseback, and brought up the +rear. + +Their way lay through the most sublime and beautiful mountain and valley +scenery. + +Monticello is built upon a mountain, some three miles south of the +village. + +Perhaps there is no private dwelling in the whole country occupying a +more elevated site, or commanding a more magnificent panorama of +landscape, than Monticello. + +It is a fine country house of great architectural beauty and strength, +built upon a lofty and slightly inclined plain, formed by grading the +top of the mountain. + +It commands a stupendous prospect, bounded only by the spherical form of +the earth. And standing there, with the earth beneath and the heavens +all around, one fully realizes that we live upon a great planet rolling +in its orbit through immense space. + +Our party spent a long summer's day up there in the sunshine, and then, +after eating the luncheon they had brought with them, they set out on +their return to the village, where they arrived in time for one of Mrs. +Wheatfield's delicious early teas. + +The remaining days of the week were passed in walking, riding or driving +to the most interesting points of the neighborhood. + +On Saturday morning they took leave of the bishop's widow and set out +for Richmond, _en route_ for Wendover and Blue Cliffs. + +They reached the city late on the same night, and took up their old +quarters at the Henrico House. + +They staid over the Sabbath, and went to hear Mr. Lyle preach, morning +and evening, to his old congregation. + +On Monday morning the whole party resumed their journey, and arrived at +Wendover early in the afternoon of the same day. + +There the party were destined to divide. + +There were carriages from Blue Cliffs waiting by appointment at the +railway station to meet Miss Cavendish and her friends; and there was +the hack from the Reindeer Hotel for the accommodation of any other +travelers who might require it. + +Mrs. Fanning, Emma Cavendish, Laura Lytton and Electra, attended by Dr. +Jones and Alden Lytton, entered their carriages to go to Blue Cliff +Hall. + +Mr. Lyle and Victor Hartman took leave of them at their carriage doors, +saw the horses start, and then set out to walk together to the bachelor +home of Mr. Lyle, where Hartman was to be a guest. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +AT THE PARSONAGE. + + +Mr. Lyle lived in a pretty white cottage, covered nearly to the roof +with fragrant creeping vines, and standing in the midst of a beautiful +flower-garden. + +Here he lived his bachelor life quite alone but for the occasional sight +of the old negro couple that were waiting on him--Aunt Nancy, who did +all his housework, and Uncle Ned, who worked in the garden. + +He found the faithful old couple prepared to receive him and his guest. + +A tempting repast, combining the attractions of dinner and tea, was +ready to be placed upon the table just as soon as the gentlemen should +have made their toilets after their long journey. + +Mr. Lyle led his guest into a fresh, pretty room, with white muslin +curtains at the vine-clad windows and a white dimity spread on the bed, +and white flower enameled cottage furniture completing the appointments. + +"This is a room for a pretty girl rather than for a grim miner," said +Victor Hartman, looking admiringly around the little apartment. + +"I call it the 'Chamber of Peace,' and that is why I put you in it," +said Mr. Lyle. + +After they had washed and dressed they went down together to the cozy +little dining-room, where they did such justice to the tea-dinner as +made Aunt Nancy's heart crow for joy. + +And when that was over they went into the snug little parlor and sat +down to talk over their plans. + +It was then that Mr. Lyle informed Victor Hartman that he was doing all +the work of the parish during Dr. Goodwin's hopeless indisposition, and +that he had been doing it for the last twelve months. + +"You will succeed him here as rector, I presume?" said Victor. + +"I presume so; but I do not like to speak of that," gravely replied Mr. +Lyle. + +"No, of course you do not. And I really beg your pardon. I should not +have spoken myself, only in my girl's interests. You see, I felt a +little curious and anxious to know where her future life would be likely +to be passed, and I thought it would be a much happier life if passed +here, near her dear friend Miss Cavendish, that's all," explained +Victor. + +"You seem to consider that quite a settled matter," replied Mr. Lyle, a +little incoherently, and blushing like a maiden. + +"Yes, of course I consider it all quite settled! You, in your +earnestness, can not conceal your liking for my girl, and she, in her +innocent frankness, does not even try to conceal hers from you. And I +heartily approve the match and am ready to dower the bride," said +Victor. + +"But I have not ventured to speak to her yet," stammered Mr. Lyle. + +"Then you may do so just as soon as you please," answered Victor. + +"And now about Alden," said Mr. Lyle, by way of changing the +conversation. + +"Yes, now about Alden. He does not suspect that I am his banker, I +hope?" + +"No, indeed! I paid him over the munificent sum you intrusted to me for +him. He feels--well, I may say painfully grateful, and is confident that +he must some time repay you, with interest and compound interest." + +"Yes, my boy will certainly repay me, but not in the way he thinks," +observed Victor, gravely. + +"After a week's visiting with his sister at Blue Cliffs, he will go up +to Richmond and select a site for his office and purchase his law +library, though I think he will have to go to Philadelphia to do that." + +"Yes, I suppose he will," admitted Hartman. + +"What are your own plans about yourself, Victor, if I may be allowed to +ask?" inquired the minister. + +"Well, I haven't any. I came on here to see my boy and girl, and settle +them in life as well as I can. I shall stay till I do that anyway. After +that I don't know what I shall do. I do not care about going back to +California. My business there is in the hands of a capable and +trustworthy agent. And somehow I like the old mother State; and now +that you lead me to think about it, perhaps I shall spend the rest of my +life here; but, as I said before, I don't know." + +"By the way, dear Victor, you spoke to me with much simple frankness of +my most private personal affairs. May I take the same liberty with you?" +inquired Mr. Lyle, very seriously. + +"Why, of course you may, if you call it a liberty, which I don't, you +know!" answered Victor, with a smile. + +"Then, my dear Hartman, how about Miss Electra? I was not so absorbed in +my own interests as not to have an eye to yours." + +"Ah, Miss Electra! Well, parson, she _was_ my little old acquaintance of +Rat Alley, when I flourished in that fragrant neighborhood as Galley +Vick." + +"No!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle, opening his eyes wide with astonishment. + +"Yes," quietly answered Victor Hartman. "And it is a wonder that you, +who know the family so well, do not know this episode in its history." + +"How was I to know, my friend, when no one ever told me? I suppose that +few or none but the family know anything about it." + +"I suppose you are right," said Victor. "Well, you see, she recognized +me, as surely as I did her, at first sight. We had an explanation as we +walked out to the University that day." + +"But how came the granddaughter of Dr. Beresford Jones ever to have had +such a miserable childhood?" + +"Well, you see, there was a disobedient daughter, a runaway marriage, a +profligate husband, and the consequences--poverty, destitution, early +death, and an orphan child left among beggars and thieves! Her +grandfather found her at last and took her under his guardianship. That +is the whole story in brief." + +"Well, well, well!" mused Mr. Lyle, with his head on his breast; then, +raising it, he went back to the previous question: "But what about Miss +Electra?" + +"I have just told you about her," replied Victor. + +"Oh, yes, I know! You have told me something about her, but you haven't +told me all. Take me into your confidence, Victor." + +"What do you mean?" inquired Hartman, in some embarrassment. + +"Why, that you and your little old acquaintance seem to be very fond of +each other." + +Victor laughed in an embarrassed manner, and then said: "Do you know +that when we were in Rat Alley, and she was a tiny child and I was a +lad, there was a promise of marriage between us?" + +"That was funny too! Well, what about it?" + +"Nothing. Only, if I dared, I would, some day, remind her of it." + +"Do, Victor! Believe me, she will not affect to have forgotten it," said +Mr. Lyle, earnestly. + +"Ah, but when I think of all I have passed through I dare not ask a +beautiful and happy girl to unite her bright life with my blackened one! +I dare not," said Hartman, very sadly. + +"Nonsense, Victor! You are morbid on that subject. Yours is a nobly +redeemed life," said Mr. Lyle, solemnly. + +"But--my past!" sighed Victor. + +"She had a dark past too poor child! But no more of that. In both your +cases + + "'Let the dead past bury its dead! + Live--live in the living present, + Heart within and God o'erhead!' + +And now it is time to retire, dear Victor. We keep early hours here," +said Mr. Lyle, as he reached down the Bible from its shelf, preparatory +to commencing evening service. + +Then they read the Word together, and offered up their prayers and +thanksgivings together, and retired, strengthened. + +This week, to which Alden Lytton's holiday visit to Blue Cliffs was +limited, was passed by the young people in a succession of innocent +entertainments. + +First there was a garden-party and dance at Blue Cliff Hall, at which +all the young friends and acquaintances of Miss Cavendish assisted, +which the Rev. Dr. Jones and the Rev. Mr. Lyle endorsed by their +presence, and in which even Victor Hartman forgot, for the time being, +his own dark antecedents. + +Next Mr. Lyle himself opened his bachelor heart and bachelor home to the +young folks by giving them a tea-party, which delighted the hearts of +Aunt Nancy and Uncle Ned, who both declared that this looked something +_like_ life. + +But the third and greatest event of the week took place on Friday +evening, when Dr. Beresford Jones gave a great house-warming party, on +the occasion of his carrying home his granddaughter and sole heiress, +Electra Coroni. + +Not only all our own young friends, including the reverend clergy and +the California miner, but all the neighborhood and all the county were +there. + +And they kept up the festivities all day and well into the night. + +Emma Cavendish and Laura Lytton remained with Electra for a few days +only, for Alden Lytton was to leave the neighborhood for Richmond on the +Monday morning following the party at Beresford Manors. + +And during all this time no word was heard of Mary Grey. + +That baleful woman had heard all that had passed at Charlottesville and +at Wendover, and her vain and jealous spirit was filled with such +mortification and rage that she was now hiding herself and deeply +plotting the ruin of those who had been her best friends and +benefactors. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +MORE MANEUVERS OF MRS. GREY. + + She, under fair pretense of saintly ends, + And well-placed words of sweetest courtesy + Baited with reason, not unplausible, + Glides into the easy hearts of men, + And draws them into snares. + --MILTON'S _Comus_. + + +When Mary Grey reached Richmond she went first to a quiet family hotel, +where she engaged a room for a few days. + +Then she took a carriage and drove to the rectory of old St. John's +Church and presented her letter to the rector. + +The reverend gentleman received her very kindly and cordially, and +glanced over her letter, saying, as he returned it to her: + +"But this was not at all necessary, my dear madam. I remember you +perfectly, as a regular attendant and communicant of this church, while +you were on a visit to the family of the late lamented Governor of this +State." + +"Yes, sir; but then I was only a visitor at the church, just as I was a +guest at the Government House. Now I wish to be a member of the church, +as I intend to become a permanent resident of the city," Mary Grey +explained, with her charming smile. + +The pastor expressed himself highly gratified, and added: + +"Your large circle of friends, that you won during your long visit here +two or three years ago, will be delighted to hear of this." + +Mary Grey bowed gracefully and said: + +"The pleasure, she believed, would, like the advantage, be mostly on her +own side." + +Then she inquired of the rector--with an apology for troubling him with +her own humble affairs--whether he could recommend her to any private +boarding-house among the members of his own church, where the family +were really earnest Christians. + +The rector could not think of any suitable place just then, but he +begged to have the pleasure of introducing Mrs. Grey to his wife, who, +he said, would most likely be able to advise her. + +And he rang the bell and sent a message to Mrs. ----, who presently +entered the study. + +The introduction took place, and the rector's wife received the visitor +as cordially as the rector had. + +She knew of no boarding-house of the description required by Mrs. Grey, +but she promised to inquire among her friends and let that lady know the +result. + +Soon after this Mrs. Grey took leave. + +Many of her former friends were, at this season of the year, out of +town, as she felt sure; but some among them would probably be at home. + +So, before she returned to her hotel, she made a round of calls, and +left her cards at about a dozen different houses. + +She then went back to her room at the hotel and spent the remainder of +the day in unpacking and reviewing her elegant wardrobe. + +There was no sort of necessity for doing this, especially as she +intended to remain but a few days at the house; and the operation would +only give her the trouble of repacking again to move. + +But Mary Grey never read or wrote or sewed or embroidered if she could +avoid it, and had nothing on earth else to occupy or amuse her; so her +passion for dress had to be gratified with the sight of jewels, shawls +and mantles, laces, silks and satins, even though she durst not wear +them. + +Next day the rector's wife called on her and recommended a very superior +boarding-house to her consideration. + +It was a private boarding-house, in a fashionable part of the town, kept +by two maiden ladies of the most aristocratic family connections and of +the highest church principles. + +This was exactly the home for Mrs. Grey. + +And the rector's wife kindly offered to take her, then and there, in the +rectory carriage, to visit "the Misses Crane," the maiden ladies in +question. + +"The Misses Crane," as they were called, dwelt in a +handsomely-furnished, old-fashioned double house, standing in its own +grounds, not very far from the Government House. + +The Misses Crane were two very tall, very thin and very fair ladies, +with pale blue eyes and long, yellow, corkscrew curls each side of their +wasted cheeks. + +They were dressed very finely in light checked summer silks, and flowing +sleeves and surplice waists, with chemisettes and undersleeves of linen +cambric and thread lace. + +They were very poor for ladies of their birth. They had nothing in the +world but their handsome house, furniture and wardrobe. + +They depended entirely upon their boarders for their bread; yet their +manners were a mixture of loftiness and condescension that had the +effect of making their guests believe that they--the guests--were highly +honored in being permitted to board at the Misses Cranes'. + +But if not highly honored they were certainly much favored, for the +Misses Crane kept neat and even elegant rooms, dainty beds and an +excellent table. + +Presented by the rector's lady, Mrs. Grey was received by the Misses +Crane with a lofty politeness which overawed even her false pretensions. + +Presently the rector's lady, leaving Mrs. Grey to be entertained by Miss +Romania Crane, took the elder Miss Crane aside and explained to her the +nature of their business call. + +"I think she is just the kind of boarder that will suit you, as your +house is just the kind of home needed by her," added the lady. + +Miss Crane bowed stiffly and in silence. + +"She is, like yourself, of an old aristocratic family, and of very +high-church principles; and she has, besides, an ample income, much of +which she spends for benevolent purposes," continued Mrs. ----. + +Miss Crane bowed and smiled a ghastly smile, revealing her full set of +false teeth. + +"She is, I should tell you, also entitled to all our sympathy. She has +suffered a great disappointment in her affections. She was engaged to be +married to the late lamented Governor of the State, when, as you know, +he was suddenly struck down with apoplexy, and died a few days before +the day appointed for the wedding." + +"Oh, indeed!" breathed Miss Crane, in a low, eager voice, losing all her +stiffness and turning to glance at the interesting widowed bride elect. + +"Yes. And you will find her a most interesting young person--devoted to +good works, one of the excellent of the earth. When she was here, two or +three years ago--in the same season that she was engaged to our honored +and lamented Governor--she was quite famous for her charities." + +"Oh, indeed!" again aspirated Miss Crane, glancing at Mrs. Grey. + +"I am sure that you will be mutually pleased with each other, and, as +she has declared her intention to make Richmond her permanent residence, +I should not wonder if she also should make your pleasant house her +permanent home," added the lady. + +"Much honored, I'm sure," said Miss Crane, with a mixture of hauteur and +complacency that was as perplexing as it was amusing. + +"And now, if you please, we will rejoin your sister and Mrs. Grey," said +the rector's lady, rising and leading the way to the front windows, near +which the other two ladies were sitting. + +The end of all this was that the Misses Crane engaged to take Mrs. Grey +as a permanent boarder, only asking a few days to prepare the first +floor front for her occupation. + +No arrangement could have pleased Mary Grey better than this, for she +wished to remain at the hotel a few days longer to receive the calls of +her old friends, who would naturally expect to find her there, as she +had given that address on the cards that she had left for them. + +So it was finally arranged that Mrs. Grey should remove from the hotel +to the Misses Cranes' on the Monday of the next week. + +Then the two took leave, and the rector's lady drove the widow back to +her hotel and left her there. + +The next day Mrs. Grey had the gratification of hearing from the cards +she had left at the different houses of her old acquaintances. Several +ladies called on her and welcomed her to the city with much warmth. + +And on the Saturday of that week she had a surprise. + +The Rector of St. John's paid her a morning visit, bringing a letter +with the Charlottesville postmark. + +"It came this morning, my dear madam. It was inclosed in a letter to me +from Mrs. Wheatfield, the esteemed widow of my late lamented friend, +Bishop Wheatfield," said the rector, as he placed the letter in her +hand. + +She thanked the reverend gentleman, and held the letter unopened, +wondering how Mrs. Wheatfield could have found out that she was in +Richmond. + +When the rector had taken his leave, she opened her letter and read: + + + "CHARLOTTESVILLE, July 15, 18--. + + "MY DEAREST MARY:--We have not heard a word from you since you + left us. + + "All your friends here suffer the deepest anxiety on your + account, fearing that you may be ill among strangers. + + "Only on Sunday last, when I happened to speak to our minister, + after the morning service, I got a slight clew to you; for he + told me that you had asked him for a church letter to the Rector + of St. John's Parish in Richmond. + + "That information gives me the opportunity of writing to you, + with some prospect of having my letter reach you, for I can + inclose it to the Rector of St. John's, who will probably by this + time know your address. + + "And now, having explained how it is that I am enabled to write + to you, I must tell you the news. + + "The great nuisance of the Commencement is abated. It is all + over; the students, the visitors and the vagrants have nearly all + gone, and the town is empty and--peaceful. + + "One set of visitors I lamented to lose. They went on Saturday. + + "I mean, of course, your friends from Blue Cliffs. They were all + charming. + + "I was very much interested in Miss Cavendish. + + "And now, my dear child, although I am no gossip and no meddler, + as you are well aware, I really must tell you what I would not + tell to any other living being, and which I tell you only because + I know you to be perfectly discreet, and also deeply interested + in the parties of whom I shall take the liberty of writing. + + "There are three marriages in prospect, my dear. I see it quite + plainly. Our young people are the frankest and most innocent of + human beings. They have no disguises. + + "Who are to be married? you ask me. + + "I will tell you who, I _think_, will be married. + + "First, Mr. Alden Lytton and Miss Emma Cavendish. + + "Not a prudent marriage for her, because she is a minor, with an + immense fortune. And he is a young lawyer, with not a dollar of + his own and his way yet to make in the world. + + "But what can we do about it? + + "With one guardian in her dotage and the other at the antipodes + Miss Cavendish is practically, if not legally, her own mistress. + + "The only comfort is that the young man in question is rich in + _everything else_, if not in money. + + "Well, the second prospective marriage pleases me better. The + Rev. Mr. Lyle, a worthy young clergyman, is devoted to Miss Laura + Lytton. + + "The third approaching nuptials interest me least of all, in any + manner. A dark, brigandish-looking Californian, of almost + fabulous wealth, who is the friend and guest of Mr. Lyle, has + evidently fallen in love at first sight with pretty little + sparkling Electra Coroni. + + "They have all gone down to Wendover together, and the Lyttons + are to make a long visit at Blue Cliffs. + + "I must not forget to tell you that worthy young man, Mr. Kyte, + has been here inquiring after you with much anxiety. He went back + to Wendover a day or two before our young people left. + + "Now, my dearest Mary, let me hear that you are well, and believe + me ever your devoted friend, + + "MARIA WHEATFIELD." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +A DIABOLICAL PLOT. + + Between the acting of a dreadful thing + And the first motion, all the interim is + Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream; + The genius and the mortal instruments + Are then in council; and the state of man, + Like to a little kingdom, suffers then + The nature of an insurrection. + --SHAKESPEARE'S _Julius Caesar_. + + +No language can adequately describe the mortification and rage that +filled the bosom of Mary Grey as she read the foregoing letter. + +Two of her once ardent worshipers--handsome Alden Lytton and eloquent +Stephen Lyle--had forsaken her shrine and were offering up their +devotion to other divinities. + +They had wounded her vanity to the very quick. + +And to wound Mary Grey's vanity was to incur Mary Grey's deadly hatred. + +She was always a very dangerous woman, and under such an exasperation +she could become a very desperate enemy. + +She had felt so sure that no woman, however young and lovely, could ever +become her rival, or even her successor, in any man's affections. So +sure, also, that no man, however wise and strong, could ever resist her +fascinations or escape from her thraldom. + +And now that charming illusion was rudely dispelled! She saw herself +even contemptuously abandoned by her subjects, who transferred their +allegiance to a couple of "bread-and-butter school-girls," as she +sneeringly designated Emma Cavendish and Laura Lytton. + +She was consumed with jealousy--not the jealousy born of love, which is +like the thorn of the rose, a defence of the rose--but the jealousy born +of self-love, which is like the thorn of the thorn-apple, a deadly +poison. + +She sat on one of her trunks, with her elbows on her knees and her +clutched fists supporting her chin. Her lips were drawn back from her +clinched teeth and her black eyes gleamed like fire from the deathly +whiteness of her face. + +And so she sat and brooded and brooded over her mortification, and +studied and studied how she might pull down ruin upon the heads of those +hated young people who were loving each other and enjoying life at the +cost of her humiliation. + +And of course the foul fiend very soon entered into her counsels and +assisted her. + +"I have one devoted slave--one willing instrument left yet," she +muttered to herself: "he would pay any price--yes, the price of his +soul--for my love! He shall pay _my_ price down! He shall be the means +of drawing destruction upon all their heads! Yes, Miss Cavendish, marry +Alden Lytton, if you _will_, and afterward look honest men and women in +the face if you _can_! Yes, Stephen Lyle, become the husband of Laura +Lytton, and then hold up your head in the pulpit--if you dare! Ah, if my +plot succeed! Ah, if my plot succeed, how terribly will I be avenged! +And it _shall_ succeed!" she hissed through her grinding teeth, with a +grim hatred distorting her white features and transforming her beautiful +face for an instant into demoniac hideousness. + +She started up and commenced traversing the floor, as a furious tigress +her den. + +When she had raged herself into something like composure she opened her +writing-case and wrote the following letter: + + + "RICHMOND, VA., Aug. --, 18--. + + "TO CRAVEN KYTE, ESQ. + + "_Dear Friend_:--My wanderings have come to a temporary end here + in this city, where I expect to remain for some weeks, even if I + do not conclude to make it my permanent residence. + + "Shall I trouble you to do me a favor? Some time ago I left in + the hands of the jeweler at Wendover a little pearl brooch, which + I forgot to call for when I left, and have neglected to send for + ever since. + + "The brooch in itself is of small intrinsic value; but as it is + an old family relic I should like to recover it. Will you, + therefore, please go to the jeweler's and get it and send it to + me in a registered letter by mail? and I shall be very much + indebted to you. And if you should happen to come to this city + during my stay here I hope you will call to see me; for I should + be very glad to see any old friend from Wendover. + + "Yours truly, + M. GREY." + + +She immediately sealed this letter, rang for a waiter, and dispatched it +to the post-office. + +This letter had been written for but one purpose--to bring Craven Kyte +immediately to Richmond, without seeming especially to invite him to +come. + +She always wrote her letters with an eye to the remote contingency of +their being produced in court or read in public. + +This letter to Craven Kyte was a sample of her non-committal style--it +compromised no one. + +When she had sent it off she began to pack up her effects, in +preparation for their removal, on Monday morning, to the Misses Cranes'. + +Even after that work was done she could not be still. Like an uneasy +beast of prey, she must needs move to and fro. + +So she put on her bonnet, called a carriage and drove out to the rectory +to spend the evening. + +But though she was received in the most friendly manner she could not +enjoy the visit. She was absent and distracted during the whole evening. + +She returned late to a restless bed. And then she got up and took +laudanum to put her to sleep. And this was not the first time she had +had to resort to the same dangerous narcotic. + +No more rest for Mary Grey! + +Remorse sometimes begins _before_ the commission of a contemplated and +determined crime; repentance never. That is one difference between the +two. + +On Sunday morning, to keep herself actively employed, as well as to win +"golden opinions," Mrs. Grey dressed herself plainly, but very +becomingly, and went early to the Sunday-school at old St. John's, to +offer herself as a teacher. + +She was soon appointed to the temporary charge of a class of little +girls, whose regular teacher was then absent on a summer tour of the +watering places. + +Afterward she attended both morning and afternoon services, and went to +a missionary meeting in the evening. + +Still, after all the fatigues of the day, she was unable to sleep at +night, and again she had recourse to the deadly drug. + +On Monday morning she paid her week's bill at the hotel and removed to +the Misses Cranes'. + +She was received with lofty politeness by the two maiden ladies; and she +was put in immediate possession of her apartment--a spacious chamber, +with a balcony overhanging the front flower-garden. + +She had scarcely finished unpacking her effects and transferring them +from her trunks to the bureaus and wardrobes of the chamber, before a +card was brought to her by the neat parlor-maid of the establishment. + +The card bore the name of Mr. Craven Kyte. + +"Where is the gentleman?" inquired Mrs. Grey. + +"In the drawing-room, madam," answered the maid. + +"Ask him to be so kind as to wait. I will be down directly," said Mrs. +Grey. + +The girl left the room to take her message, and Mrs. Grey began to +change her dress, smiling strangely to herself as she did so. + +She gave a last finishing touch to the curls of her glossy black hair, +and a last lingering look at the mirror, and then she went down-stairs. + +There, alone in the drawing-room, stood the one devoted lover and slave +that she had left in the whole world. + +He came down the room to meet her. + +"You here! Oh, I'm so delighted to see you!" she said, in a low tone, +full of feeling, as she went toward him, holding out both her hands. + +He trembled from head to foot and turned pale and red by turns as he +took them. + +"I am so happy--You are so good to say so! I was almost afraid--I +thought you might consider it a liberty--my coming," faltered the poor +fellow, in sore confusion. + +"A liberty? How could you possibly imagine I would consider your coming +here a liberty on your part? Why, dearest friend, I consider it a favor +from you, a pleasure for me! Why should you think otherwise?" inquired +Mary Grey, with her most alluring smile. + +"Oh, thanks--thanks! But it was your letter!" + +"My letter? Sit down, Craven, dear, and compose yourself. Here, sit +here," she said, seating herself on the sofa and signing for him to take +the place by her side. + +He dropped, trembling, flushing and paling, into the indicated seat. + +"Now tell me what there was in my harmless letter to disturb you," she +murmured, passing her soft fingers over his forehead and running them +through the dark curls of his hair. + +"Nothing that was _meant_ to disturb me, I know. It was all kindness. +You could not write to me, or to any one, otherwise than kindly," +faltered the lover. + +"Well, then?" inquired Mary Grey, in a pretty, reproachful tone. + +"But I felt it was cold--cold!" sighed the young man. + +"Why, you dearest of dears, one must be discreet in writing letters! +Suppose my letter had expressed all my feelings toward you, and then had +fallen into the hands of any one else? Such mistakes are made in the +mails sometimes. How would you have liked it?" she inquired, patting his +cheeks. + +"I should have been wild. But it would only have been at the loss of +your letter. As for me, Heaven knows, I should not mind if all the world +knew how much I adore you. On the contrary, I should glory in it," added +the lover. + +"But a lady feels differently. She only lets her _lover_ know how well +she loves him; and not always does she even let him know," softly +murmured the beautiful temptress, as she lightly caressed his raven +curls. "And now tell me the news, dear Craven. How are all our friends +at Blue Cliffs?" she archly inquired. + +"I only want to tell you how much I adore you," whispered the lover, who +was beginning to recover his composure. + +"That would be a vain repetition, darling, especially as I know it all +quite well," murmured Mary Grey, with a smile, and still passing her +hand with mesmeric gentleness over his hair. + +"Aye; but when will you make me completely happy?" sighed the poor +fellow. + +"Whew!" smiled Mary Grey, with a little bird-like whistle. "How fast we +are getting on, to be sure! Why, a few minutes ago we were afraid that +we were taking a liberty in coming here to call on our lady-love at all! +And now we are pressing her to name the day! See here, you impatient +boy, answer me this: When did I ever promise to 'make you happy' _at +all_?" she inquired, in a bantering tone. + +"But you gave me hopes--oh, do not say that you never gave me hopes!" he +pleaded, turning red and pale and trembling from head to foot as before. + +"Well, I don't say it; for I know I promised if ever I should marry +living man I should marry you. I repeat that promise now, dear Craven," +she added, gravely and tenderly. + +"Ah, Heaven bless you for those blessed words! But when--_when_ will you +make me happy? Oh, if I possess your love, when--_when_ shall I possess +your hand?" he pleaded. + +And then, as if suddenly ashamed of his own vehemence, he stopped in +confusion. + +"You have won my love, you petulant boy!" she answered, archly. Then, +dropping her voice to its tenderest music, she murmured: "What would you +do to win my hand?" + +"Anything--anything under the sun!" he answered, wildly, and forgetting +all his embarrassment. "Whatever man has done to win woman would I do to +win you--more than ever man did to win woman would I do to win you! I +would renounce my friends, betray my country, abjure my faith, _lose my +soul_ for you!" + +"Words, words, words! You talk recklessly! You know you would not do the +least one of these dreadful deeds for me," answered Mary Grey, laying +her hand on his lips. + +"Try me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE PRICE OF A SOUL. + + I love you, love you; for your love would lose + State, station, heaven, mankind's, my own esteem. + --BYRON. + + +He spoke these two words with such a desperate look, in such a desperate +tone, that Mary Grey was half frightened; for she saw that he was in +that fatal mood in which men have been driven to crime or death for the +love of woman. + +This was the mood to which she wished to bring him, and in which she +wished to keep him until he should have done his work; and yet it half +frightened her now. + +"Hush--hush!" she murmured. "Be quiet! There are people in the next +room. They may hear you. And I am sure they should do so they would take +you for a lunatic." + +"But--do you believe me? Do you believe that I would defy the universe +in your service? Do you believe me? If not, try me!" he aspirated, +vehemently. + +"I _do_ believe you. And some day I _will_ try you. You have won my +love; but he who wins my hand must first prove his love for me in a way +that will leave no doubt upon the fact." + +"Then I am safe, for I am sure to prove it," he said, with a sigh of +intense relief. + +She looked at him again, and knew that he spoke as he felt. Yes, for her +sake he would "march to death as to a festival." + +"Now, then, will you be good and quiet and tell me news of my old +neighbors at Wendover and Blue Cliffs?" she archly inquired. + +"I do not think I can. I wish to sit here and look at you and think only +of you. It would be a painful wrench to tear away my thoughts from you +and employ them upon anything else. Let me sit here in my heaven!" he +pleaded. + +"Yes, love; but remember I am very anxious to know something about my +dear friends, whom I have not heard from for a month. Can not you +gratify me?" coaxed Mary Grey. + +"I can not fix my mind upon them long enough to remember anything. You +absorb it all," he answered, dreamily gazing upon her. + +"But if I ask you questions surely you can answer them," said Mary Grey, +who, though very anxious for information later than that afforded by +Mrs. Wheatfield's letter, was not ill-pleased at the devotion which +baffled her curiosity. + +"Yes, I will answer any question you ask. That will not be so much of a +wrench," he said. + +"Then how is my dear friend, Emma Cavendish?" inquired the traitress. + +"Well and happy, at Blue Cliffs," answered the lover. + +"Is it true, as I hear, that she is to marry--" Mary Grey hesitated for +a moment before her choking voice could pronounce his name--"Mr. Alden +Lytton?" + +"Yes, I believe so. Everybody says so." + +"When?" + +"As soon as he gets established in his profession, I suppose." + +"Tell me about him." + +"Well, he is coming here on the first of the month to find an office and +fit it up. And then he is going on to Philadelphia to select books for a +law library." + +"Ah, he is coming here and he is going on to Philadelphia. Yes, yes, +yes, yes! That will do," murmured Mary Grey, to herself. + +"What did you say?" inquired Craven Kyte. + +"I said that it was a good plan; but it will take money," answered Mrs. +Grey. + +"Yes, that it will. And he has got it. That mysterious guardian of his +has sent him ten thousand dollars to begin with." + +"A round sum! When did you say he was coming here?" + +"On the first of next month; or, perhaps, before the end of this month." + +"Good! Very good!" + +"Good for what?" innocently inquired Craven Kyte. + +"Good for his professional prospects, of course! The sooner he begins +the better, isn't it?" + +"Oh, yes; certainly!" + +"And when does he go to Philadelphia?" + +"Just as soon as he has selected his law office and set painters and +glaziers and paper-hangers and upholsterers and such to fit it up. For +no expense is to be spared, and the young lawyer is to set up in style. +For such is the wish of his guardian." + +"You know this?" + +"Yes, I know it. One knows everything that anybody else knows in a small +village like Wendover." + +"You do not know when Mr. Lytton and Miss Cavendish are to be married?" + +"No, because I do not think they know themselves. But the people say it +will be as soon as the young gentleman gets settled in his practice." + +"Good again! The delay is favorable," muttered Mary Grey to herself. + +"What did you say?" again inquired the ingenuous young man. + +"I say the delay is wise, of course." + +"Oh, yes; certainly!" assented Mr. Kyte. + +"And now tell me about the others," said Mrs. Grey. + +But her lover took her hand and gazed into her face, murmuring: + +"Oh, my love, my life, let me sit here and hold your thrilling little +hand and gaze into your beautiful eyes, and think only of you for a +moment!" + +She put her hand around his head and drew it toward her and pressed a +kiss upon his forehead, and then said: + +"There! Now you will go on for me, will you not?" + +"I would die for you!" he earnestly exclaimed. + +"I would rather you would live for me, you mad boy!" she answered, +smiling archly. + +"I will do anything for you." + +"Then answer my questions. Is it also true that Mr. Lyle and Miss Lytton +are to be married?" + +"Oh, yes! That is certain. Their engagement is announced. There is no +secret about that." + +"When are they to be married?" + +"Well, there is a slight obstacle to their immediate union." + +"What is that?" + +"An old school-girl compact between Miss Cavendish and Miss Lytton, in +which they promised each other that they would both be married on the +same day or never at all." + +"A very silly, girlish compact." + +"Very." + +"Why do they not break it by mutual consent?" + +"Because mutual consent can not be had. Miss Cavendish indeed offers to +release Miss Lytton from her promise; but Miss Lytton refuses to be +released. And although her clerical lover presses her to name an earlier +day, she will name no other than the day upon which Miss Cavendish also +weds, be that day sooner or later." + +"So it is settled that they will be married upon the same day?" + +"Quite settled." + +"How do you know?" + +"Everything is known in a little country town like Wendover, as I said +before." + +"They will be married the same day. Better and better. If I had arranged +it all myself it could not be better for my plans," muttered Mary Grey +to herself. + +"What did you say?" inquired Craven Kyte. + +"I say I think, upon the whole, the arrangement is a good one." + +"Oh, yes; certainly!" admitted the young man. + +"Where are you stopping, Craven?" softly inquired Mrs. Grey. + +"Oh, at the same hotel from which you dated your letter! I thought you +were there, and so I went directly there from the cars. When I inquired +for you--I hope you will pardon my indiscretion in inquiring for you," +he said, breaking off from his discourse. + +"Oh, yes, I will pardon it! But it was a very great indiscretion, you +thoughtless boy, for a handsome youth like you to be inquiring for a +young widow like me at a public hotel. Now go on with what you were +talking about." + +"Well, when I inquired for you they told me you had left this very +morning, and they gave me your present address." + +"That was the way in which you found me?" + +"That was the way I found you. But, before starting to come here, I +engaged my room at that hotel; for, after it had been blessed by your +dear presence, it had quite a home-like feeling to me," said the lover, +fervently. + +"How long do you stay in the city, Craven, dear?" sweetly inquired the +siren. + +His face clouded over. + +"I must return to-morrow," he said. "It was the only condition upon +which our principal would consent to my leaving yesterday. He is going +North to purchase his fall and winter goods, you see, and wants me to be +there." + +"How long will he be absent?" + +"He says only four days, at the longest." + +"And when does he go?" + +"By the next train following my return." + +"Then he will be back again at his post by Saturday evening?" + +"Yes; in fact, he intends to be back by the end of the week, and that is +the very reason why he is so anxious to get away to-morrow night." + +"Craven, dear, when your senior partner gets back do you think you will +be able to return here for a few days?" + +"Do you really wish me to come back so soon?" exclaimed the lover, his +face flushing all over with pleasure. + +"Yes; but don't cry out so loud--that's a dear! I repeat, there are +people in the next room. But you have not yet answered my question." + +"Oh, yes, I can return here as soon as my partner gets back! He promised +that I should take a week's holiday then. So, if he gets back on +Saturday evening, expect to see me here on Sunday morning, in time to +wait on you to church." + +"Stop; not so fast, my dear! You can take your week's holiday at any +time, I suppose?" + +"At any time this month or next." + +"Very well. Now, dear boy, I want you to promise me two or three +things." + +"I will promise you anything in the world you wish." + +"Then listen. Every time I write to you I will inclose within my letter +another letter, sealed and directed to me, which you must stamp and post +at the Wendover post-office. Will you do that for me?" + +While she spoke the young man gazed at her in unqualified amazement. + +"Will you do that for me?" she repeated. + +"I solemnly promise to do that for you, although I am all in the dark as +to what you would be at," earnestly answered Craven Kyte. + +"I thank you, dearest dear," cooed the siren, caressing him tenderly. + +"I would do anything in the world for you," he answered fervently. "I +would die for you or live for you!" + +"Well, secondly, I want you, when you go back, to keep an eye on Mr. +Alden Lytton. Find out, if possible, the day that he comes to this city. +And precede him here yourself by one train. Or, if that is not possible, +if you can not find out beforehand the day that he is to come, at least +you can certainly know when he actually does start, for every passenger +from Wendover is noticed. And then follow him by the next train, and +come directly from the depot to me, before going to a hotel or showing +yourself at any other place. Will you do that for me?" + +"I promise, on my sacred word and honor, that I will, although I have +not the slightest idea why you wish me to do this," said Craven. + +"You are a true knight, worthy of any lady's love! Well, thirdly, and +lastly, as the preachers say, I wish you to promise me never to divulge +to a human being anything that has been said between us during this +interview." + +"I not only promise, but I solemnly vow, in the sight of Heaven and all +the holy angels, sacredly to observe the silence you require of me, +although I feel more and more deeply mystified by all this." + +"You must trust in me, my dear, blindly trust in me for the present, and +in time you shall know why I require these things of you," she said, +very sweetly. + +"I trust in you blindly, utterly, eternally!" answered the lover. + +"And now, do you know what your reward shall be?" + +"Your smile of approval will be my all-sufficient reward!" exclaimed the +young man, earnestly. + +"Ah, but you shall hear! When you have done these little favors for me, +and _one more_, which I will tell you about when you come back from +Wendover, then--" she said, pausing and looking at him with a +bewildering smile. + +"Then? Yes! Then?" eagerly aspirated the young man, gazing at her in +rapt admiration and expectancy. + +"Then I will give you my hand in marriage. I solemnly promise it." + +"Oh, you angel--you angel! You have made me so happy!" fervently +breathed the infatuated lover, as he drew her, unresisting, and pressed +her to his heart. + +At this point there was heard the sound of light footsteps approaching. + +And the moment after, several of the lady boarders opened the door and +entered the room. + +Craven Kyte, always shy of strangers, arose to take leave. + +As he did so, he seemed suddenly to recollect something. + +He put his hand in his breast-pocket and drew forth a little box, which +he handed to Mrs. Grey, saying: + +"It is your brooch that you requested me to get from the jeweler." + +And then, with a bow, he left her. + +Mary Grey went back to her room. + +"I shall succeed in ruining them all now!" she said, her dark eyes on +fire with anticipated triumph. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +A VERY DESPERATE GAME. + + I have set my life upon a cast, + And I will stand the hazard of the die. + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +Craven Kyte, the infatuated and doomed instrument and victim of a cruel +and remorseless woman, returned to Wendover and resumed his place in +Bastiennello's establishment, where he culpably neglected his business, +and lived only on the thought of receiving her daily letters and of soon +returning to Richmond to be blessed by her promised hand in marriage. + +Every morning he was the first man at the post-office, waiting eagerly, +impatiently, for the arrival and opening of the mail. + +And he was never disappointed of receiving her letter, and--never +satisfied with its contents. + +Every letter was in itself something of a mortification to him, +containing no expression of confidence or affection, no word by which +any one might suspect that the correspondent was writing to one she +loved and trusted, much less to her betrothed husband. + +Every letter began and ended in the most polite and formal manner; never +alluded to the matrimonial intentions between the correspondents, but +treated only of church services, Sunday-schools, sewing circles and +missionary matters, until the young man, famishing for a word of +affection, with pardonable selfishness, sighed forth: + +"She is a saint; but oh, I wish she was a little less devoted to the +heathen, and all that, and a little more affectionate to me!" + +But the instant afterward he blamed himself for egotism, and consoled +himself by saying: + +"She always told me that, however much she loved, she would never write +love-letters, as they might possibly fall into the hands of irreverent +and scoffing people who would make a mockery of the writer. It is a +far-fetched idea; but still it is _her_ idea and I must submit. It will +be all right when I go to Richmond and claim her darling hand." + +And the thought of this would fill him with such ecstasy that he would +long to tell some one, his partner especially, that he was the happiest +man on earth, for he was to be married in a week to the loveliest woman +in the world. But he was bound by his promise to keep his engagement, as +well as all other of his relations with the beautiful widow, a profound +secret. And though the poor fellow _was_ a fool, he was an _honorable_ +fool, and held his pledged word sacred. + +Every letter that came to him also contained another letter, to which it +never referred by written word. This inclosed letter was sealed in an +envelope bearing the initial "L" embossed upon its flap. And it was +directed to "Mrs. Mary Grey, Old Crane Manor House, Richmond." + +Craven Kyte would gaze at this mysterious letter in the utmost confusion +and obscurity of mind. + +"Now, why in the world does she write a letter and direct it to +_herself_ and send it to me to post privately, by night, at the Wendover +post-office? And why did she give me only verbal instructions about it? +And why does she avoid even alluding to it in her letter to me? Why is +the envelope stamped with the letter L? And why, oh, why does the +handwriting so closely resemble that of Mr. Lytton?" he inquired of +himself, as his eyes devoured the superscription of the letter. "I can +not tell," he sighed. "It is too deep for my fathoming. I give it up. I +must blindly do her bidding, trusting to her implicitly, as I do, and as +I will." + +Then, following her verbal instructions, given him in Richmond, in +regard to these mysterious letters, he put it away until dark, and then +stole out and dropped it secretly into the night-box at the post-office. + +Five days passed, in which he received and re-mailed three of these +inexplicable documents. + +Then, on Saturday morning, Bastiennello, the head of his firm, returned +to Wendover and resumed the control of his business. + +On the evening of the same day a van arrived from Blue Cliff Hall, +bringing the heavy baggage of Mr. Alden Lytton, to be deposited at the +railway station and left until Monday morning, when the owner intended +to start for Richmond by the earliest train. + +When Craven Kyte heard this he went straight to his principal and +claimed his promised leave of absence. + +"Why, Kyte, you are in a tremendous hurry! Here I have not been back +twelve hours and you want to be off," said Bastiennello, with a shrug of +his shoulders. + +"It is a case of necessity, sir, believe me," pleaded Craven Kyte. + +"And this is Saturday night, the busiest time in the whole week," +complained Bastiennello. + +"Well, sir, you will not keep open after twelve, will you?" + +"Certainly not after eleven." + +"Nor will you need my services after that hour?" + +"Of course not." + +"Then that will enable me to serve here as usual until the hour of +closing, and then give me time to catch the midnight train to Richmond." + +"Oh, well, if you can do that it will be all right, and I can have no +objection to your going to-night," said Bastiennello. + +And so the affair was concluded. + +The great village bazaar closed at eleven that night. + +As soon as he had put up the last shutter, Craven Kyte rushed off to his +humble lodgings, stuffed a carpet-bag full of needed clothing and +hurried to the railway station to catch the train. + +It came thundering along in due time, and caught up the waiting victim +and whirled him along on his road to ruin, as far as Richmond, where it +dropped him. + +It was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning, and all the church bells +were ringing, when the train ran in to the station. + +Craven Kyte, carpet-bag in hand, rushed for the gentlemen's +dressing-room nearest the station, hastily washed his face, combed his +hair, brushed his clothes, put on a clean collar and bosom-piece, and +fresh gloves, and hurried off to old St. John's Church, which he thought +the most likely place on that Sunday forenoon to meet Mary Grey. + +The service was more than half over when he reached the church, but he +slipped in and seated himself quietly on one of the back seats near the +door and looked all over the heads of the seated congregation to see if +he could discover his beloved in the crowd. + +Yes, there she was, in a front pew of the middle aisle, immediately +under the pulpit. + +To be sure he could only see the back of her head and shoulders, but he +felt that he could not be mistaken. + +And from that moment he paid but little attention to the service. + +Do not mistake the poor soul. He was not impious. He had been +religiously brought up in the family of the late Governor Cavendish. He +was accustomed to be devout during divine worship. And on this occasion +he wrestled with Satan--that is, with himself--and tried to fix his mind +in succession on anthems, psalms, collects and sermon. All to little +purpose. His mind went with his eyes toward Mary Grey. + +And even when he closed those offending orbs he still found her image in +his mind. + +At length the sermon was finished and the benediction pronounced. + +The congregation began to move out. + +Craven Kyte went out among the first, and placed himself just outside +the gate to wait until his adored should pass by. + +In a continued stream the congregation poured forth out of the church +until nearly all had passed out, but still he did not see Mary Grey. + +In truth, that popularity-seeking beauty was lingering to bestow her +sweet smile and honeyed words upon "all and sundry" who would give her +the opportunity. + +At length, among the very last to issue from the church, was Mrs. Grey. + +She came out chatting demurely with a group of her friends. + +Craven Kyte made a single step toward her, with the intention of +speaking; but seeing that she did not notice him, and feeling abashed by +the presence of strangers about her, he withdrew again and contented +himself with following at a short distance until he saw her separate +herself from the group and turn down a by-street. + +Then he quickened his footsteps, turned down the same street and joined +her. + +At the same instant she looked back upon him with a smile, saying: + +"You clever boy, how good and wise of you to refrain from speaking to me +before so many strangers! Now what is the news?" + +"The news is--Oh, my dear, dearest, dearest Mary! I am so delighted to +meet you!" he exclaimed, breaking suddenly off from his intended +communications. + +"So am I to see you, darling. But that is no news. Come, this is a quiet +street, and leads out of the city. Let us walk on, and as we walk you +can tell me all the news," she said, smilingly, resting her delicate +hand on his arm. + +"I can tell you nothing--nothing yet, but that I love you--I love you!" +he fervently breathed, as he drew her arm within his own and pressed her +hand to his bosom. + +"And I love you," she murmured, in the lowest, sweetest music. And then, +after a moment's pause, she added, gayly: "And now tell me what has +brought you here so suddenly." + +"Did I not promise you that I would be in Richmond this Sunday morning, +in time to attend you to church?" + +"Yes, you did, but--" + +"Well, I could not get in so early as I intended, because I came on by +the train that leaves Wendover at midnight. So I did not reach the city +until nearly noon to-day. However, if I was not in time to attend you +_to_ church, I was in time to attend you _from_ church. So I kept my +promise tolerably well." + +"Yes; but, my dear friend, I particularly requested that you would wait +at Wendover and watch certain events, and not come to Richmond until +something had happened or was about to happen." + +"Well then?" + +"You gave me your word that you would do as I directed you." + +"Yes, certainly I did." + +"Then, seeing you here, I am to presume that all the conditions of your +engagement have been fulfilled." + +"Yes, they have, dear lady mine." + +"First, then, as you were not to come here until Mr. Alden Lytton was +about to start or had started for this place, why, I am to presume, by +seeing you here, that Mr. Lytton is either present in the city or on his +way here." + +"Mr. Lytton will leave Wendover for Richmond by the earliest train +to-morrow. He will be here to-morrow evening," said Craven Kyte, +gravely. + +"You are absolutely sure of this?" inquired Mrs. Grey. + +"As sure of it as any one can be of any future event. His heavy baggage +came over from Blue Cliff Hall yesterday evening, and was left at the +station to be ready for transportation on Monday morning, when Mr. +Lytton intended to take the earliest train for this city." + +"Then there can be no mistake," said Mary Grey. + +"None whatever, I think." + +"You say you have fulfilled all the conditions of our engagement?" + +"Yes, dearest, I have indeed." + +"How about those letters I inclosed to you to be re-mailed?" + +"I received them all, and re-mailed them all. Did you get them? You +never acknowledged the receipt of one of them, however," said Craven +Kyte, thoughtfully. + +"I got them all safe. There was no use in acknowledging them by letter, +as I expected to see you so soon, and could acknowledge them so much +better by word of mouth. But that is not exactly what I meant by my +question, darling. Of course I knew without being told that you had +re-mailed all those letters, as I had received them all." + +"Then what was it you wished me to tell you, dearest Mary? Ask me +plainly. I will tell you anything in the world that I know." + +"Only this: Did you post those letters with great secrecy, taking +extreme care that no one saw you do it?" + +"My dearest, I took such care that I waited until the dead of night, +when no one was abroad in the village, and I stole forth then, and, all +unseen, dropped the letters into the night box." + +"You darling! How good you are! What shall I ever do to repay you?" +exclaimed the traitress, with well-acted enthusiasm. + +"Only love me--only love me! That will richly repay me for all. Ah, only +love me! Only love me truly and I will die for you if necessary!" +fervently breathed the poor doomed young man, fondly gazing upon her, +who, to gain her own diabolical end, was almost putting his neck into a +halter. + +"You foolish darling! Why, you would break my heart by dying! You can +only make me happy by living for me," she said, with a smile. + +"I would live for you, die for you, suffer for you, sin for you--do +anything for you, bear anything for you, be anything for you!" he burst +forth, in a fervor of devotion. + +"There, there, dearest, I know you would! I know it all! But now tell +me: Have you kept our engagement a profound secret from every human +being, as I requested you to do?" + +"Yes, yes, a profound secret from every human being, on my sacred word +and honor! Although it was hard to do that. For, as I walked up and down +the streets of Wendover, feeling so happy--so happy that I am sure I +must have looked perfectly wild, as the people stared at me so +suspiciously--I could scarcely help embracing all my friends and saying +to them, 'Congratulate me, for I am engaged to the loveliest woman in +the world, and I am the happiest man on earth!' But I kept the secret." + +"You mad boy! You love too fast to love long, I doubt! After a month or +two of married life you will grow tired of me, I fear," said Mary Grey, +with mock gravity. + +"Tired of you! Tired of heaven! Oh, no, no, no!" he burst forth, +ardently. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE HAUNTED COTTAGE. + + +She suddenly brought him down to the earth with a homely remark. + +"I am tired of walking. And here is a vacant house placarded 'To Let,' +with a nice long porch in front. Come, let [us] go in and sit down on +one of the benches and rest." + +And she drew him toward the little gate that led into the yard in front +of the house. + +It was a rustic two-story frame cottage, with a long porch in front, all +overgrown with honeysuckles, clematis, woodbine and wild roses. + +They went in together and sat down on the porch, under the shadow of the +blooming and fragrant vines. + +Then she turned and looked at him attentively for the first time since +they met at the church. + +"You look tired," she said, with alluring tenderness. "You look more +exhausted than I feel. And that is saying a great deal, for I am quite +out of breath." + +"I am grieved that you feel so, dearest! It was selfish and thoughtless +in me to keep you walking so long," said Craven, compunctiously. + +"Oh, it is nothing! But about yourself. You really look quite +prostrated." + +"Do I, dearest? I am not conscious of fatigue. Though indeed I should +never be conscious of that by your dear side." + +"Now tell the truth," she said, again bringing him down from his +flights. "Have you had your breakfast this morning?" + +"Breakfast? I--don't remember," he said, with a perplexed air. + +"Come to your senses and answer me directly. What have you taken this +morning?" she demanded, with a pretty air of authority. + +"I--Let me see. I believe I bought a package of lemon-drops from a boy +that was selling them in the cars. I--I believe I have got some of them +left yet," he said, hesitating, and drawing from his pocket one of those +little white packets of candy so commonly sold on the train. + +Mary Grey burst into a peal of soft, silvery laughter as she took them, +and said: + +"An ounce of lemon-drops and nothing else for breakfast! Oh, Cupid, God +of Love, and Hebe, Goddess of Health, look here, and settle it between +you!" + +"But I do not feel hungry. It is food enough for me to sit here and +feast upon the sight of your face, your beautiful face!" + +"You frenzied boy! I see that I must take care of you. Come, now that we +have recovered our breath, we will go on a little further to a nice, +quiet, suburban inn, kept by an old maid. I have never been there +myself, but I have seen it in driving by with the rector's family. It is +such a nice place that the school children go there to have picnic +parties in the grounds. We will go and engage a parlor, and have a quiet +little breakfast or dinner, whichever you may please, for it shall +combine the luxuries of both. Now will you go?" said Mary Grey, rising +from her shady seat. + +"Of course, if you wish me to do so; but indeed I do not need anything." + +"But I do; for I breakfasted at seven o'clock this morning, before going +to the Sunday-school. It is now one o'clock. I have been fasting six +hours, and as I intend to spend the most of the day with you, I shall +miss our luncheon at home; for, you see, we are deadly fashionable at +the Misses Cranes'. We lunch at two and dine at six. So come along." + +Craven Kyte arose and gave her his arm, and they walked on together +until they reached the little cottage, half farmhouse, half hotel, that +was so well-kept by the nice old maiden hostess. + +The good woman looked rather surprised to see Sunday visitors walk into +her house. + +But Mary Grey, prayer-book ostentatiously in hand, took her aside, out +of the hearing of Craven Kyte, and explained: + +"I and my brother walked in from the country to attend church this +morning. We have a carriage and might have ridden, only we do not think +it is right to make the horses work on Sunday, do you?" + +"No, miss, I candidly don't; and that's a fact," replied the good +creature. + +"Mrs.," amended Mary Grey, with a smile. + +"'Mrs.' of course! I beg your pardon, ma'am! But you looked so young, +and I may say childish, and I didn't notice the widow's cap before," +apologized the hostess. + +"Well, as we had no friends in the town--no one with whom we could stop +to dinner--I and my brother set out to walk home again. He is an +invalid, and is quite exhausted with fasting and fatigue. So perhaps, +under the circumstances, you would not mind letting us have a parlor to +rest in and a little dinner." + +"Of course not, ma'am; for under such circumstances it is clearly my +duty to entertain you," answered the good soul, who, under no possible +circumstances, would have been false to her ideas of right. + +"You are very kind. I thank you very much," said Mary Grey, sweetly. + +"Here is a room at your and your brother's disposal, ma'am. No one will +intrude upon you here," said the hostess, opening a door that led into a +neat back parlor, whose windows overlooked the garden and orchard +attached to the house. + +"Come," said Mary Grey, beckoning to her companion. + +"Dear me! I never saw a brother and sister look so much alike as you two +do," remarked the hostess, admiringly, as she showed them into the back +parlor. + +She left them, promising to send in a nice dinner. + +"And coffee with it, if you please," added Mary Grey, as the landlady +went out. + +"Yes, certainly, ma'am, if you wish it," she answered, as she +disappeared. + +Mary Grey went to the back window and looked out upon the pleasant +garden, verdant and blooming with shrubs, rose-bushes and flowers. + +Craven Kyte joined her. + +"Did you hear that old lady call us brother and sister?" inquired the +young man. + +"Yes," answered Mary Grey, with her false smile. "But I did not think it +necessary to set her right." + +"And she said we looked so much alike," smiled Craven. + +"We both have dark hair and dark eyes. And we are both rather thin in +flesh. That is the beginning and the ending of the likeness. And her +imagination did the rest," explained Mary Grey. + +They were interrupted by a pretty mulatto girl, who came in to lay the +cloth for dinner. + +And this girl continued to flit in and out of the room, bringing the +various articles of the service, until, on one of her temporary +absences, Craven Kyte exclaimed: + +"I would rather have sat and fasted with you under that pretty porch of +the old road-side empty house than sit at a feast here, with that girl +always running in and out to interrupt us." + +"Never mind, dear. As soon as we get something to eat we will go," said +Mary Grey, with her sweet, false smile. + +In a reasonable time a dainty little dinner was placed upon the table, +consisting of broiled chickens, green corn, asparagus and mashed +potatoes, with fragrant coffee for a beverage and peaches and cream for +dessert. + +When they had partaken of this, and had rested a while, Craven Kyte went +out and paid the bill. And Mary Grey again drew the landlady aside, out +of hearing of her companion, and said: + +"We are so much rested and refreshed by your admirable hospitality that +my brother and myself think we shall walk back to town and attend +afternoon service." + +The good hostess smiled approval, but expressed a hope that they would +not overdo themselves. + +Mary Grey smiled and took leave, and walked off with her captive. + +They went on until they came in front of the vacant house with the +vine-clad porch. + +"Come, won't you rest here a little while?" inquired Craven Kyte, laying +his hands upon the latch of the gate. + +"Yes, for a little while only," said Mary Grey, consulting her watch. +"It is now half-past three o'clock, and service commences at half-past +four. And I _must_ be at church in time for the commencement of the +service. You will go to church with me, of course," she added. + +"Of course!" answered Craven Kyte, emphatically. + +"I am sorry that I can not ask you to sit with me; but the fact is I +have only one seat that I can call my own in a crowded pew belonging to +the Blairs. But you can walk with me to church, and join me again after +the service," exclaimed Mary Grey. + +"I should so much like to sit by your side!" said poor Craven, with a +disappointed look. + +"Don't you see, my dear, it is quite impossible? The service, however, +is short, and I will join you immediately after it." + +And as they talked they went in and sat down on the porch. + +"This is a pretty little old-fashioned cottage. Don't you think so?" +inquired the beauty, as they looked around them. + +"Very pretty," agreed her victim, who would equally have agreed to +anything she might have proposed. + +"Look what a fine luxuriant garden it has behind it, all growing wild +with neglect." + +"Yes." + +"And the orchard back of that. See the trees bending under their loads +of ripening apples or peaches." + +"Yes. It's a wonder the boys don't go in and steal them." + +"No boy would enter there for love or money." + +"Why?" + +"Because this is the house in which Barnes killed his wife and child, in +a fit of insane jealousy; and the place has the terrible reputation of +being haunted." + +"Oh!" + +"Yes; it is said that the ghost of a weeping woman, carrying a weeping +child in her arms, is seen to wander through garden and orchard at all +hours of the night, or to come in and look over the beds of the sleepers +in the house, if any are found courageous enough to sleep there." + +"Oh! And that is the reason, I suppose, that the house remains +untenanted?" said Craven Kyte. + +"Yes, that is the reason why the house, pleasant and attractive as it +looks, remains untenanted; and why the garden and orchard, with their +wealth of flowers and fruit, remain untouched by trespassers," said Mrs. +Grey. + +"It is a pity such a pretty place should be so abandoned," mused the +young man. + +"It is. But, you see, family after family took it and tried to live in +it in vain. No family could stay longer than a week. It has now been +untenanted for more than a year. I have heard that the owner offers to +rent it for the paltry sum of fifty dollars a year." + +"For this delightful house!" + +"For this haunted house, you mean!" said Mrs. Grey. + +"Oh, nonsense! I beg your forgiveness, my dearest, I did not mean that +for you, but for the gabies that believe in ghosts!" said Craven Kyte. + +"Then you do not believe in ghosts?" + +"I!" + +"Well, I thought you did not. In fact, I knew you did not. Now I want +you to do something to please me," said the siren, laying her soft hand +upon his shoulder. + +"Anything in this world, you know, I will do to please you." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +WHAT SHE WANTED HIM TO DO. + + +"Well, I want you to rent this house." + +Craven Kyte started with surprise and looked at the speaker. + +She went on, however, regardless of his astonishment. + +"And I want you to purchase furniture enough to fit up one room for +yourself; and I want you to do that the first thing to-morrow. And I +want you to lodge here alone, while you remain in Richmond." + +He still stared at her in amazement, but with no sign of a wish to +disobey her strange commands. + +She went on with her instructions. + +"You can walk into the city, and take your meals at any restaurant you +please; but you must lodge here alone while you stay in the city." + +"I will do so," he answered, earnestly, as he recovered the use of his +tongue--"I will do anything you tell me. I am entirely under your +orders." + +"You are the best fellow in the whole world, and I love the very ground +you walk on!" exclaimed the traitress, warmly. + +He grasped her hand convulsively and pressed it to his lips, and then +waited her further directions. + +"To reward you I will come out here every morning and spend the whole +day with you." + +"Oh, that will be heavenly! I should be willing to live in a cave on +such delightful conditions!" + +"But mind, my dearest one, you must not come to see me at my +boarding-house, or try to meet me, or to speak to me, after to-day, +anywhere where I am known," added Mrs. Grey, gravely. + +"Oh, that seems very hard!" sighed the victim, with a look of grief, +almost of suspicion. + +"Why should it seem hard, when I tell you that I will come out here +every morning to spend the whole day with you?" inquired Mrs. Grey. + +"But why, then, can I not go home with you and spend the whole evening +in your company at your boarding-house?" pleaded the poor fellow. + +"Because we should have no comfort at all in a whole parlor full of +company, as there is at the Misses Cranes' every evening. And because we +should be talked about in that gossiping boarding-house circle. And, +finally, because I should much rather stay with you alone here in this +house, where there is no one to criticise us, as late every evening as I +possibly can, and let you walk home with me and leave me at the door at +bed-time. Now don't you think mine the better plan?" + +"Oh, yes, indeed, if you really will spend the evenings with me also!" + +"Why, certainly I will! And now let us walk on to church. And mind, you +must leave me at the church door and find a seat for yourself, while I +go to mine. After church I will come out here with you again and sit +with you all the evening. I have no doubt the good woman at the rustic +inn down the road will give us tea, as she gave us dinner," said the +beauty, as she arose and slipped her hand within her companion's arm. + +They left the house together and walked on to the church. + +And the programme for the afternoon and evening was carried on according +to the beautiful schemer's arrangement. + +After the services were concluded they walked out to the suburban inn, +where the simple-minded hostess willingly agreed to furnish tea for such +a pious church-going brother and sister. + +And when they had had this tea, Mary Grey, to beguile the landlady, took +her willing captive for a walk further out toward the country; and then +returning by a roundabout route, came to the vacant road-side cottage, +where, as the September evening was very warm, they sat under the +vine-clad porch until ten o'clock. + +Then they walked back to the town together. + +Craven Kyte took Mary Grey to the gate of her boarding-house, where, as +the place was silent and deserted, they paused for a few last words. + +"Mind, the first thing you do to-morrow morning will be to go and find +the owner of the haunted house and rent it from him," said the widow. + +"Yes," answered her white slave. + +"And the next thing you do will be to go and buy the furniture necessary +to fit up one room for yourself, and have it taken out there and +arranged." + +"Yes," he answered again, very submissively. + +"That will take you nearly all day, I think." + +"I will hurry through the business as fast as I can, so that I may see +you the sooner. When can I see you to-morrow?" he pleaded. + +"At seven o'clock to-morrow evening wait for me at the haunted house. I +will come and stay with you there until eleven." + +"Oh, that is so long to wait! May I not see you sooner?" + +"Impossible! I have a sacred duty to do to-morrow that will engage me +all day. But you too will be busy. And we can look forward all day to +our meeting in the evening. And after to-morrow we can meet every +morning and spend the whole day together," said the traitress, sweetly. + +"I suppose I must be content!" sighed the victim. + +"Now good-night, dear. And good-bye until to-morrow night," murmured the +siren, as she gave her lover a Judas kiss and dismissed him. + +Mary Grey hurried into the drawing-room, where the Misses Crane were +still sitting up. + +"My dear Mrs. Grey, we feared that something had happened to you," said +the elder Miss Crane. + +"Oh, no! I went to see one of my Sunday-school pupils, whom I missed +from my class, and whom, upon inquiry, I found to be ill at home. I have +spent the whole day with the sick child, except the hours spent at +church. And I must go to see her again to-morrow morning," said the +widow, with a patient smile. + +"How good you are!" murmured Miss Crane. + +Mary Grey shook her head deprecatingly, bowed good-night to the slim +sisters and went upstairs to her own room. + +Early the next morning Mary Grey, telling her hostesses that she was +then going to sit with the sick child, left the old manor-house and +walked rapidly to the railway station and took a ticket for Forestville, +a village about twenty miles from the city, on the Richmond and Wendover +Railroad. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +A HAPPY LOVER. + + The lover is a king; the ground + He treads on is not ours; + His soul by other laws is bound, + Sustained by other powers. + Liver of a diviner life, + He turns a vacant gaze + Toward the theater of strife, + Where we consume our days. + --R. M. MILNES. + + +On that Monday morning Alden Lytton left Blue Cliff Hall with his heart +full of joy and thankfulness. + +He was the accepted lover of Emma Cavendish. And he was so somewhat to +his own amazement, for he had not intended to propose to her so soon. + +She was a very wealthy heiress, and he was a poor young lawyer, just +about to begin the battle of life. + +They were both still very young and could afford to wait a few years. +And, ardently as he loved her, he wished to see his way clearly to fame +and fortune by his profession before presuming to ask the beautiful +heiress to share his life. + +But the impulse of an ardent passion may, in some unguarded hour, +overturn the firmest resolution of wisdom. + +This was so in the case of Alden Lytton. + +Up to Saturday, the last day but one of his stay at Blue Cliff Hall, the +lovers were not engaged. + +Rumor, in proclaiming their engagement, had been, as she often is, +beforehand with the facts. + +But on that Saturday evening, after tea, Alden Lytton found himself +walking with Emma Cavendish up and down the long front piazza. + +It was a lovely summer night. There was no moon, but the innumerable +stars were shining with intense brilliancy from the clear blue-black +night sky; the earth sent up an aroma from countless fragrant flowers +and spicy shrubs; the dew lay fresh upon all; and the chirp of myriads +of little insects of the night almost rivaled the songs of birds during +the day. And so the night was filled with the sparkling light of stars, +the fresh coolness of dew, the rich perfume of vegetation and the low +music of insect life. + +The near mountains, like walls of Eden, shut in the beautiful scene. + +Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish sauntered slowly up and down the long +piazza feeling the divine influence of the hour and scene, without +thinking much about either. + +Indeed, they thought only of each other. + +They were conscious that this was to be their last walk together for +many months, perhaps for years. + +Something to this effect Alden murmured. + +He received no reply, but he felt a tear drop upon his hand. + +Then he lost his self-control. The strong love swelling in his soul +burst forth into utterance, and with impassioned tones and eloquent, +though broken words, he told her of his most presuming and almost +hopeless love. + +And then he waited, trembling, for the rejection and rebuke that his +modesty made him more than half expect. + +But no such rebuff came from Emma Cavendish. + +She paused in her walk, raised her beautiful eyes to his face and placed +both her hands in his. + +And in this manner she silently accepted him. + +How fervently he thanked and blessed her! + +Emma Cavendish had always been a dutiful daughter to the doting old lady +in the "throne room;" so that night, before she slept, she went in and +told her grandmother of her engagement to Alden Lytton. + +Now, by all the rules of wrong, Madam Cavendish should have resolutely +set her face against the betrothal of her wealthy granddaughter to a +young lawyer with no fortune of his own and with his way yet to make in +the world. + +And if the old lady had been somewhat younger she would probably have +done this very thing. + +But as it was, she was "old and childish;" which means that she was more +heavenly-minded and nearer heaven than she ever had been since the days +of her own infancy and innocence. + +So, instead of fixing a pair of terrible spectacled eyes upon the young +girl and reading her a severe lecture upon "the eternal fitness of +things," as illustrated in wealth mating with wealth and rank with rank, +she looked lovingly upon her granddaughter, held out her venerable hand, +and drew her up to her bosom, kissed her tenderly, and said: + +"Heaven bless you, my own darling! This has come rather suddenly upon +me; but since, in the course of nature, you must some time marry, I do +not know a young gentleman in this world to whom I would as soon see you +married as to Mr. Alden Lytton. But, my child, I do not think you ought +to be married very soon," she added. + +"No, dear grandma, I know that," said Emma, kneeling down by her side +and tenderly caressing and kissing her withered hands. "No, dear +grandma, I will never leave you--never for any one--not even for him!" + +"My darling child, you mistake my meaning. It is not for the selfish +purpose of keeping you here near me that I advise you to defer your +marriage for a time. It is because I think it is decorous that some +months should elapse between the betrothal of a young pair and their +wedding. Though, of course, there are some cases in which a short +engagement and a speedy marriage become expedient or even necessary. As, +for instance, my child, if I felt myself near death now I should +certainly wish to hasten your marriage, rather than leave you +unprotected in this world." + +Emma Cavendish could only kiss her grandmother's hands and thank her +through falling tears. + +"And now; my child, I must go to sleep. I always want to go to sleep +after anything exciting has happened to me. Good-night, and may Heaven +bless you, my love!" said the old lady, affectionately, as she dismissed +her granddaughter. + +While Emma Cavendish was talking with her grandmother, Alden Lytton went +into the parlor, where he found his sister alone, sitting by one of the +windows, gazing thoughtfully out upon the beautiful night. + +He drew a chair to her side, seated himself and, with his arm around her +waist, told her of his new-born happiness. + +She congratulated him fervently and earnestly; and then, returning +confidence for confidence, told him of her engagement to the young +minister of Wendover. + +For rumor, in Mr. Lyle's and Miss Lytton's case also, had anticipated +the facts, and had reported their betrothal all over the country long +before it was announced to their nearest friends. + +Alden Lytton, with all his approving heart, wished his sister joy in her +prospective union with the worthy young clergyman. + +And then the two, talking together over their future, decided that they +must write at once to their Uncle John Lytton and inform him of their +engagements. + +Alden undertook to write a letter on the part of both his sister and +himself that night. + +And, on further discussion, it was decided that at the close of her +visit to Blue Cliff Hall, Laura should go to Lytton Lodge to make a +visit to her relatives there. + +The entrance of Emma Cavendish put an end to the discussion, and was the +occasion of new congratulations. + +The next morning Madam Cavendish sent for Alden Lytton and Emma +Cavendish to come up to her room together. + +And she then and there read them a grave and affectionate little lecture +upon the duties and responsibilities of an engaged couple, gave them her +blessing and dismissed them to go to church. + +That Sunday morning every one at Blue Cliffs knew of the betrothal of +Mr. Lytton to the young mistress of the Hall. + +And on Monday morning all the county knew it just as well as they had +known it a month before it happened. + +And every one said over once more what they had already said so +often--that it was a great pity the daughter of the late Governor +Cavendish should be allowed to throw herself and her wealth away upon a +penniless young fortune-hunter like Alden Lytton, and all for the want +of a proper guardian at hand to restrain her. Old Madam Cavendish, they +said, was no better than none at all. And really the Orphans' Court +ought to interfere, etc. + +But the very bitterest of the malcontents were parents with marriageable +sons of their own, any one of which might one day have aspired to the +hand of the heiress. + +Little cared the happy lovers what their neighbors might think about +their betrothal. + +They parted that morning, not with tears, but with bright smiles and +promises of frequent correspondence. + +Alden Lytton stopped in Wendover to take leave of his friend, Mr. Lyle, +and to announce the betrothal of Miss Cavendish and himself. + +And then, scarcely waiting to receive the congratulations of the +minister, he hurried off to catch his train for Richmond. + +An hour after this Mr. Lyle had an interview with Victor Hartman, and +delighted that poor fellow's soul with the announcement of the +betrothal. + +And on the same day Mr. Lyle, commissioned by Victor Hartman, went to +Blue Cliff Hall and requested an interview with Madam Cavendish. + +The old lady, thinking this was the usual pastoral call from the +minister, sent word for him to come up to her room. + +And there she received him alone, and after the usual greetings opened +the conversation herself by informing him of the betrothal of her +granddaughter to Mr. Alden Lytton. + +"It was upon that very subject that I came to see you, madam, on the +part of the young gentleman's guardian," replied the minister, and then +and there announced the fact that Mr. Alden Lytton's "guardian" would be +prepared to pay down to his ward one hundred thousand dollars on the day +of his marriage with Miss Cavendish. + +"Emma has money enough," said the old lady; "but that indeed is very +liberal. I never could understand about that secret guardian, friend, +patron, or whatever you might call him, of the young Lyttons," she +added, as if she would have liked some information on the subject. + +"No, madam, and I am sorry that I am not yet at liberty to tell you more +about him. This, however, I may say, that he is able and willing to keep +his word." + +And so that interview ended. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +ON TO MEET HIS FATE. + + +Meanwhile, Alden Lytton sped on toward the city. He traveled by the +express train, which stopped at but few stations. + +About two o'clock in the afternoon the train made its longest pause, at +a little station about midway between Wendover and Richmond, where it +stopped twenty minutes for dinner. + +Many of the passengers left the train to stretch their cramped limbs or +to satisfy their hunger. + +Alden Lytton got out and went into the waiting-room, when the first form +his eye fell upon was that of Mary Grey. + +She looked pale, weary and harassed, as she sat alone on one of the +benches, with a small carpet-bag at her feet. + +Now Alden Lytton's heart was so full of happiness that it expanded with +affection for the whole human race, and even warmed with sympathy for +this erring woman, who had once possessed and forfeited his faithful +boyish love. + +And now, in his compassion, he went to her and, smiling very kindly, he +said: + +"Why, Mrs. Grey! I am so surprised to see you here, and alone too!" he +added. + +"When, since I left Blue Cliff Hall, have you ever seen me when I have +not been alone?" she inquired, with a sad smile. + +"True," he answered, gently. "Even in a church, or a crowded parlor, you +have still been ever alone. But why should this be so, while you have so +many faithful friends? Miss Cavendish I know is--" + +She put up her hand to stop him. She turned paler than before, and +trembled as with a chill. For she had loved this man _only_, of all that +she had fascinated and fooled; she had loved him _utterly_; and even +now, when she bitterly hated him, she could not bear to hear her rival's +name from his lips. + +"'The heart knoweth its own bitterness,'" she murmured, in faltering +tones. "Let us talk of something else. I came down here to bring some +funds that I had collected from charitable friends for a poor family who +were burned out near this village. And now I am going back by this +train. Pray pardon my nervousness! But the crowd and bustle and +excitement of a railway station always does make me very nervous." + +"You need refreshment. Come to the table with me and have something. +There is yet plenty of time," he said, kindly, offering her his arm. + +He felt so safe and happy in his wisely placed affection and firmly +based engagement to Emma Cavendish that he could afford to be very kind +to this poor woman, although she had once possessed--and by her conduct +forever forfeited--his honest youthful love. + +He gave her his arm and led her away to the dining-room, where a crowd +was collected at the refreshment table. + +There was a whisper between two attendants as they passed by. + +"Hush! That is the young fellow she has been waiting here to meet. It is +a runaway marriage, bless you!" + +This whisper reached the ears of Alden Lytton and Mary Grey. + +Alden Lytton paid no attention to it, thinking that it referred to some +"levanting" youth and girl who had chosen this station for their +escapade. + +But Mary Grey smiled grimly to herself as she heard it. + +They had barely time to get a cup of coffee each before the warning +shriek of the steam engine called the passengers to take their places. + +Alden Lytton drew his companion's arm within his own, led her into the +ladies' car, put her into a comfortable seat, and took his place beside +her. + +Purposely suggested by Mary Grey's own calculated actions while waiting +at the station, a whisper had got around among the attendants that the +lovely young lady in black had come down to meet her lover and elope +with him; and from the attendants it had reached the ears of some of the +passengers. + +And now, as Alden Lytton placed himself innocently enough on the seat +beside Mary Grey, the eyes of several of their fellow-travelers turned +with curiosity toward them. + +Certainly the demeanor of both rather favored the idea of their being a +pair of engaged lovers. + +Alden Lytton, with his beaming and happy face, and his careful +attentions to his companion, wore the look of a successful suitor and +prospective bridegroom. Mary Grey, with her pale, pretty face and +nervous manner, had as much the appearance of a runaway girl, trembling +and frightened at what she was daring. + +Meanwhile the train whirled onward, bearing many passengers to happy +homes or on pleasant visits; but carrying one among them on to crime and +another to disaster. + +As they drew near the end of the journey the crowd in the ladies' car +was thinned out by the leaving of passengers at the smaller stations, +until at length Alden Lytton and Mary Grey were left nearly alone and +quite out of hearing of any fellow-traveler. + +Then Alden said to her: + +"I hope you have some plan of occupation and happiness for your future +life." + +"Yes," murmured Mary Grey, "I have some little prospect. I have the +offer of a very good position in a first-class ladies' college near +Philadelphia." + +"I hope it will suit you." + +"I do not know. I have promised to go on and see the institution and +talk with the principal before concluding the engagement." + +"That would be safest, of course," said Alden. + +"And I should have gone on a day or two since, but the journey, with its +changes from steamer to car and car to steamer, is really quite a +serious one for me to take alone, especially as I always get frightened +and lose my presence of mind in the terrible uproar of a steamboat +landing or a railway station." + +"Then you should never undertake such a journey alone," said Alden, +compassionately. + +"No, I know it. But yet I shall have to do so, unless I can hear of +some party of friends going on in a few days whom I could join," sighed +Mary Grey. + +"I am not 'a party of friends,'" smiled Alden; "but I am _one_ friend +who will be pleased to escort you on that journey, as I am myself going +to Philadelphia in a few days." + +"_You!_" exclaimed Mary Grey, in well-affected astonishment. + +"Yes, madam," replied Alden, with a bow. + +"I did not know you ever went North at all," she added, lifting her +eyebrows. + +"I never yet have been north of Baltimore, strange to say," smiled Alden +Lytton; "but I am going in a few days to Philadelphia to purchase a law +library, and should be happy to escort you to your place of +destination." + +"You are very kind to me, and I am very grateful to you. I accept your +offer, and will try to give you as little trouble on the journey as +possible." + +"Oh, do not speak of trouble! There will be none, I assure you," said +Alden, pleasantly. + +"You are very good to say so, at all events." + +"What day would it suit you to go on?" inquired Alden. + +"Any day this week--whenever it will be convenient to you. I am the +obliged party and should consider your convenience." + +"Not by any means! Any day this week would suit me equally. So I beg +that you will please yourself alone." + +"No." + +"Let me be frank with you then and prove how little it really would +matter to me whether we go to-morrow or any day thereafter. I have to +select and fit up a law office, and I have to select and purchase a law +library; and I do not care in the least which I do first," said Alden, +with earnest politeness. + +"Then, if it really is a matter of indifference to you, I think we will +go to Philadelphia on Wednesday morning." + +"Very well. I will make my arrangements accordingly. This is Monday +night. We have one intervening day. Where shall I call for you on +Wednesday morning?" + +"You need not call. I will meet you on the Washington boat." + +"Just as you please. I will be there." + +The engine shrieked its terrific warning, slackened its speed, and ran +slowly into the station. + +"I will call a carriage for you," said Alden Lytton. + +And he left his companion in the waiting-room while he went out and +selected a good carriage for her use. + +Then he came back, took up her traveling-bag, drew her arm in his own, +and led her out to it. + +"Where shall I tell the coachman to take you?" he inquired, when he had +placed her comfortably in her seat. + +"To the Misses Cranes', Old Manor, near the Government House," she +answered. + +Alden Lytton bowed and closed the door, gave the order to the coachman, +and then walked off to his own old quarters at the Henrico House. + +The carriage started, but had not gone more than a quarter of a mile +when Mrs. Grey stopped it. + +The coachman got off his box and came to the window to know her will. + +"Turn into the old paper-mill road. I wish to call on a sick friend +there before going home. Go on. I will keep a lookout and stop you when +we get near the house." + +The coachman touched his hat, remounted, and turned his horses' heads to +the required direction. + +Mary Grey sat close on the left-hand side of the cushion, and drew the +curtain away, so that she could look through the window and watch their +course. + +The night was clear, starlit and breezy after the hot September day. + +It was still early, and the sidewalks were enlivened by young people +sauntering in front of their own houses to enjoy the refreshing evening +air, while the porches and door-steps were occupied by the elders taking +their ease in their own way. + +But in the next mile the scene began to change, and instead of the +populous street, with its long rows of houses and the cheerful +sidewalks, there was a lonely road with detached dwellings and +occasional groups of people. In the second mile the scene changed again, +and there was an old turnpike, with here and there a solitary road-side +dwelling, with perhaps a man leaning over the front gate smoking his +pipe, or a pair of lovers billing and cooing under the starlit sky. + +Mary Grey kept a bright lookout for the "haunted house," and presently +she recognized it, and saw a light shining through the little front +window under the vine-covered porch. + +"He is there, poor wretch, sure enough, waiting for me. I feel a little +sorry for him, because he loves me so devotedly. But heigho! If I do not +spare myself, shall I spare him? No!" said Mary Grey to herself, as she +ordered the coachman to draw up. + +He stopped and jumped off his box, and came and opened the carriage +door. But it was the door on the other side of the carriage, opposite +the middle of the road, and not opposite the house, where she wanted to +get out. + +"Open the other door," she said. + +But the negro's teeth were chattering and the whites of his eyes +rolling, in fearful contrast with the darkness of his skin. + +"Open the other door and let me out. I want to go into that house," +repeated Mrs. Grey, a little impatiently. + +"Dat dere house? Oh, laws-a-messy! Bress my soul, missy, you don't want +to go in dat house! Dat's de haunted house! And oh, law, dere's de +corpse lights a-burnin' in dere now!" gasped the negro, shudderingly, +pointing to the dimly-lighted windows under the porch. + +"You blockhead, those are the tapers in my friend's sickroom! Open the +other door, I tell you!" said Mrs. Grey, angrily. + +"'Deed--'deed--'deed, missy, you must scuse ole nigger like me! I +dussint do it, missy! I dussint go on t'other side ob de carriage nex' +to de ghoses at no price!" said the negro, with chattering teeth. + +Mary Grey turned and tried to open the other door for herself, but found +it impossible, and then turned again and said: + +"Well, stand out of my way then, you idiot, and let me out of _this_ +door!" + +The negro gave way, and she got out of the carriage into the middle of +the dusty road. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +THE SACRIFICE. + + +At the same moment some one came softly through the cottage gate and +looked up and down the road, as if watching for some one else. + +As Mary Grey came round the carriage to the front of the house, she +recognized in the watcher Craven Kyte, who at the same instant perceived +her. + +"Wait here for me," she said to the frightened coachman, as she walked +rapidly toward the man who was hurrying to meet her. + +"My darling! I have been waiting for you so long!" he said, seizing her +hand. + +"Hush! The coachman might hear you," she whispered. "Let me come in." + +He drew her arm within his own and led her into the cottage, and into a +cool, well-lighted and tastefully-furnished parlor. + +Poor fellow, he had not only put in a few necessary articles of +furniture for his own sleeping-room, but he had fitted up a pretty +parlor for her reception, and provided a dainty feast for her +entertainment. + +To do this in time, he had worked like a mill-horse all day long, and he +had spent all his available funds, and even pawned his watch and his +little vanities of jewelry to raise more purchase-money. + +And now he felt rewarded when he saw her look of surprise, which he +mistook for a look of pleasure. + +There was an Indian matting of bright light colors on the floor, white +lace curtains lined with rose-colored cambric at the windows, and a sofa +and easy-chairs covered with rose-colored French chintz. There were a +few marble-top stands, and tables covered with white crochet-work over +rose-colored linings. There were vases of fragrant flowers on the +mantle-shelf, and on the window-sills and stands, and every available +place. + +In the center of the room stood a small table, covered with fine white +damask, decorated with a Sevres china set for two, and loaded with a +variety of choice delicacies--delicious cakes, jellies, fruits, +preserves and lemonade. + +"This is a surprise," said Mary Grey, sinking into one of the tempting +easy-chairs. + +"Oh, I am glad you like it as it is! But oh, indeed, I wish everything +here was more worthy of you! If it were in my power I would receive and +entertain you like a queen." + +"You are so good--so thoughtful! And nothing in the world could be +pleasanter than this cool, pretty parlor," said Mary Grey, trying to +rouse herself from the abstraction into which she had fallen after her +first look of surprise at the decorated room; for, truth to tell, her +mind was occupied with graver thoughts than appertained to house or +furniture, flowers or fruits. + +"And this has been ready for you, my queen, ever since sunset. And here +I have sat and waited for you, running out every five minutes to see if +you were coming," he said, half reproachfully. + +"Well, I am here at last, you impatient boy! I could not come before. I +was sitting with a sick friend and could not leave her until she went to +sleep," smiled the siren. + +"I shall end in being very wickedly jealous of your sick friends, and +your poor friends, and your lame friends, and all the other forlornities +that take you away from me, and keep you away from me so much," he +sighed. + +"Ah, but when we are married I shall give up this sort of life! For I +know that 'charity begins at home;' and though it ought not always to +stay there, yet should it stay there the principal part of its time," +smiled the witch. + +"Ah, I am so glad to hear you say so, dearest dear! You _will_ stay at +home for me most of your time then?" + +"It will be my delight to do so!" + +He caught her hand and kissed it ardently, and drew her slightly toward +him, looking at her longingly, as if pleading for a closer kiss. + +But she smiled and shook her head, saying, archly: + +"Remember--remember, if I come here to see you, you must treat me with +some respectful reserve, or I will never come again." + +"I will do exactly as you wish. I am your slave, and can do no otherwise +than as you bid me," he said, with a sigh. + +"That is a good, dear boy!" she answered, patting his cheeks; and then +adding, archly, "A few days, you know, and 'the tables will be turned.' +It will then be _you_ who will have the right to command, and some one +else who must obey." + +As the Circe murmured these words, his color went and came, and when she +ceased he panted out his answer: + +"Oh, the thought of ever having you for my own is--too much rapture to +be credited! But, Mary, my queen Mary, then and ever I shall be your +slave as now!" + +"Well, we'll see," she murmured, smiling and caressing him. "But now I +am tired and hungry, and you are forgetting the duties of a host." + +"I am forgetting everything in looking at your beautiful face. But now, +will you let me take off your bonnet and shawl here, or will you go into +the next room and do it for yourself, I remaining here until you come +back?" + +"I will go into the next room, if you please," said Mary Grey. + +And he arose and opened the back door of the cottage parlor and held it +open for her. + +She passed through into a prettily-furnished and well-lighted little +bed-room, whose back windows opened upon the fragrant flower-garden. + +Here she found everything prepared for her comfort, as if it had been +done by the hands of a woman. She took off her bonnet and shawl, +brushed her clothes, bathed her face and hands, smoothed her raven +ringlets, took a fresh cambric handkerchief from her pocket and +saturated it with Cologne from the toilet-table, and then passed out +again into the parlor. + +Her devoted slave was waiting for her there. And on the table, in +addition to the other comforts, there was a little silver pot of rich +aromatic coffee. + +"Why, have you a cook?" inquired Mrs. Grey, in some disturbance. + +"No, darling; I made that coffee myself. Sit down now and try it," +smiled the poor fellow. + +"You are a jewel!" she said, as all her disturbance disappeared, and she +sat down to the table. + +He waited on her with affectionate solicitude, helping her to coffee and +cream, to chicken salad and pickled oysters; changing her plate and +pressing her to try the jellies and the cakes, or the fruit and ices, +until she had feasted like a princess. + +He, in the meantime, ate but little, seeming to feed upon the sight of +her enjoyment. At length she pushed her plate and cup away and declared +she could touch nothing more. + +Then he arose as if to clear the service; but she stopped him, saying: + +"Leave it just as it is and come and sit with me on the porch outside. +The night is beautiful, and I want to sit there and talk with you. I +have something to propose." + +And she ran into the back room for her bonnet and shawl. + +He got up and gave her his arm and took her out upon the porch. + +And they sat down together on the bench, under thickly overhanging +vine-leaves. + +"Craven," she murmured, with her head upon his shoulder, "do you really +love me as much as you profess to do?" + +"Do I really love you?" he repeated, with impassioned earnestness. "Oh, +how shall I prove to you how much? Protestations are but words. Show me +how I can prove to you how much I love you! Put me to the test! Try +me--_try me!_" + +She hesitated and sighed--perhaps in pity and remorse for this poor boy, +who loved her so devotedly, and whom she was about to require to pay +down his honor and his life as the price of her hand. + +"Oh, tell me how I can show you the height and depth and breadth--no; I +should rather say the immeasurability of my infinite love!" he pleaded, +prayerfully. + +Again she sighed and trembled--yes, trembled at the contemplation of the +wickedness she was about to perpetrate; but she did not draw back from +it. She slid her arm around his neck and kissed him softly, and then +said: + +"Listen to me, Craven, my dearest. This is Monday night, you know." + +"Yes," he said, attentively. + +"On Wednesday morning I am to start for Philadelphia." + +"Oh!" he exclaimed, uneasily. + +"Hush! Wait until you hear me out. You must meet me in Philadelphia on +Friday morning. And we will be married on Friday noon." + +He was struck speechless, breathless, for a few moments with the excess +of his delight. + +Then he panted forth the words: + +"Oh, bless you! Bless you, my queen, my angel! I bless you for this +great joy!" + +"You must be calm, my dear, and hear me out. You must be punctual, and +meet me on Friday morning at ten o'clock, at _this_ address," she +continued, handing him a slip of paper with the address in question +written upon it. "There; now put it into your pocket-book and keep it +safe." + +"I will--I will, my queen! But why may I not go with you?" + +"For reasons that I will explain soon. Till I do, you must trust me." + +"I trust you utterly." + +"Then please leave here for Philadelphia on Tuesday evening, so as to +precede me by twelve hours. And on Friday morning, by ten o'clock, be at +the place I have designated, and wait until I join you." + +"And we will be married the same day?" + +"We will be married at noon on the same day. Now do you understand?" + +"My mind is in a delirium of joy, but I understand." + +"Now, dearest, you must take me out to the carriage," she said, rising +and drawing her shawl around her. + +He gave her his arm and led her out to the carriage, which the +frightened negro coachman had driven quite to the opposite side of the +road from the terrible haunted house. + +"Now go on to the Misses Cranes'," she said, after she had taken leave +of her victim and settled herself in her seat. + +It was nearly twelve o'clock when she entered her boarding-house; but +she told her waiting landladies that she had spent the day and half the +night with the sick child, and they were satisfied. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +A FATAL JOURNEY. + + Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, + Accursed and in a cursed hour, she hies. + --MILTON. + + +On that Wednesday morning the fine steamer "Pocahontas" lay at her wharf +receiving freight and passengers for Washington and Alexandria. + +Her decks were crowded with men, women and children, all either going on +the voyage or "seeing off" departing friends and acquaintances. + +Among the passengers on the forward deck stood a slight, elegant, +graceful woman, clothed in widow's weeds and deeply veiled. + +This was, of course, Mary Grey, bound upon her baleful errand. + +She had spent the intervening Tuesday with her infatuated instrument, +Craven Kyte. But when he pleaded to attend her to the boat and see her +off she forbid his doing so on pain of an eternal separation from her. + +But she renewed their agreement that he should precede her by twelve +hours, and meet her at a designated place in Philadelphia on Friday +morning. + +And she stayed with him until quite late in the evening, and finally +left him comforted with the hope of a speedy meeting and a certain +marriage. + +For the edification of her landladies, the precise Misses Crane, she +trumped up a story that at once explained the necessity of her sudden +journey North, and, as usual, redounded to her own credit. + +She had received a telegram, she said, from a friend who had just lost +her father, and who was in great affliction. And she must go on +immediately to comfort that bereaved soul. + +The Misses Crane, as usual, thought she was an angel in woman's form, +and bade her heaven speed on her benevolent errand. + +And now she stood upon the deck of the "Pocahontas," waiting for that +traveling companion whom she had fatally beguiled to be her escort. + +The boat was getting up her steam, and yet he had not made his +appearance. + +What if he should not come, after all? + +Just as she asked this question it was answered by his rapid approach. + +He came up, traveling-bag in hand, happy, smiling, radiant. + +"Mrs. Grey, I have been looking for you all over the boat. I feared that +I had missed you," he said, gayly, holding out his hand. + +"I have been waiting for you here," she answered, with a smile. + +"I am glad to find you at last. But will you not come into the cabin? +The deck is not a pleasant place while the boat is at the wharf," he +said, as he offered her his arm. + +She thanked him with a smile, took his arm and let him lead her into the +saloon. + +It was at that moment empty of other visitors. And those two were +_tete-a-tete_. + +He gave her a pleasant seat, placed himself beside her, and then and +there he told her of his betrothal to Emma Cavendish. + +Of course she already knew all about it. But he was not aware of her +knowledge. And his motive in announcing the intelligence to her was +evident even to Mary Grey's vanity-blinded mind. It was to set their own +relations at once upon a true basis, and prevent all misunderstanding +and all false hopes growing out of their long-lost love. + +Although she had known all this so well before he spoke of it, yet it +required all her powers of self-control and duplicity to listen quietly +while he spoke of her rival and to affect a sympathy with his happiness. + +Yet she did this so well that he was thoroughly deceived. + +"It was all a foolish mistake our fancying we loved each other so much, +was it not, Alden, dear?" she inquired, with an arch smile. + +"I think so," he answered, quite frankly. + +"I am glad to hear you admit that, for now we can understand each other +and be good friends, and nothing more," she added, sweetly. + +"Yes, good friends always, Mary," he agreed. + +He was so happy in his blessed love for Emma Cavendish that he felt +kindly toward all the world, and especially toward this "friendless +young widow," as he called her. + +"But you know, Alden, that it is quite common for young men of earnest +souls like yours to take a liking to women older than themselves." + +"You are not older than myself, Mary." + +"Not in years, perhaps, but oh, ever so much in suffering, and in the +bitter knowledge of the world it brings! And thus, for this reason, I +was no proper wife for a happy young man like you. No young man should +ever marry a widow, and no young girl should ever marry a widower. Our +fancied love for each other was a mistake, dear Alden, and I am very +glad it was discovered before it was rendered irremediable." + +"So am I," replied the young man, quite frankly. "But, dear Mary, I hope +you will henceforth look upon me and my dearest Emma as your brother and +sister, for we will be truly such in deed as well as in word to you," he +added, with grave gentleness. + +"I know you will; I feel certain of that. And I thank you from my heart, +while I rejoice in your happiness. Yours will be a good, wise and +beautiful marriage with Emma, Alden," she murmured, with emotion. + +"Yes, I think so too. Thanks be to Heaven!" replied the young man, +reverently bowing his head. + +The steamer was now pushing off from the wharf amid much pulling, +hauling, hallooing and shouting. + +You couldn't "hear yourself think," even in the cabin, for a while. + +"We are off, I believe," said Mary Grey, at length, when the uproar had +subsided and they were moving swiftly and smoothly along. + +"Yes. Will you come on deck? It is pleasanter there now," said Alden, +rising and offering her his arm. + +She took it with a smile and let him lead her up on deck. + +And as they promenaded slowly up and down, enjoying the fine September +morning and the beautiful river scenery, Mary Grey drew him on to speak +of Emma Cavendish. + +Of course the young lover desired no better theme. + +And in this way, leading him to discourse of his love, listening to him +with attention, pretending sympathy with his happiness, she effected +several objects important to the success of her demoniac plot. She +pleased him with himself and with her. She dispelled his suspicions, if +any still lurked in his candid soul, and she kept him always near her, +talking with her, and unconsciously attracting the attention of their +fellow-voyagers, and leading them to believe that this handsome young +man, speaking so earnestly in such low tones to his companion, and the +lovely youthful widow, who was listening to him with such rapt +attention, were a pair of happy and devoted lovers. + +Thus passed the forenoon. + +When the early steamboat dinner was ready he took her down to the table, +sat beside her, and assiduously attended to her wants. + +After dinner, when she was disinclined to walk or to talk, he brought +out some newspapers and magazines and sat down beside her on deck and +they read together. + +At tea-time he took her down to the table again. + +And after tea, as the September night was cool on the water, they sat +down at one of the cabin tables and played checkers together until it +was time to retire. + +And thus all day long and all the evening through, in sight of all the +people, Alden Lytton unconsciously conducted himself, as Mary Grey +intended that he should, like her betrothed lover. + +In due time they reached Washington, and crossed the length of the city +to take the train for Philadelphia, where they arrived late on Thursday +night. + +"Have you any preference for one hotel over another?" inquired Alden, as +they stood amid the horrible din of contesting hackmen, porters, +'bus-drivers, _et caetera_. + +"None whatever," she answered. + +"Then we'll go to the Blank House, if you have no objection." + +"None. We will go there." + +"Here's your Blank House 'bus!" shouted a driver above all the other +shouts. + +"Oh, don't let us get into that crowded cage! A carriage, please," +pleaded Mrs. Grey. + +And Alden Lytton, believing her fastidiousness and timidity to be real +and not affected, and withal feeling bound to be guided by her wishes, +called a carriage and put her into it. + +As they were rolling rapidly on their way to the Blank House, Mary Grey +shivered and suddenly said: + +"Oh, please, when we get to that great rambling hotel do not let them +put me away off in a room in a remote part of the house by myself or +among total strangers. I always feel so frightened in a great hotel. And +I am always sure to lose myself, or do something ridiculous, or get into +trouble, whenever I attempt to find my way through the labyrinth of +halls and passages between the bedrooms and parlors. Will you please +take care of me?" + +"I will take the same care of you that I would take of my sister Laura. +I will see that you have a room adjoining my own," answered Alden +Lytton, unsuspiciously, and smiling indulgently at what he thought her +childish cowardice. + +When their carriage reached the Blank House he took her up to the +reception-room and left her there, while he went to the office and +engaged apartments for himself and for her. + +And then he came for her, attended by the porter, who loaded himself +with their traveling-bags, umbrellas, and so forth, and led the way up +two pairs of stairs to a little suite of apartments, consisting of two +small chambers, with a small parlor between them. + +They entered the parlor first, where communicating doors on the right +and left led into opposite chambers. + +The porter put down the luggage, received his fee, and retired. + +"I hope you like these rooms, Mrs. Grey. The two chambers are exactly +alike; but if you have a preference, please take it," said Alden, +pleasantly. + +"It does not matter the least. I will go in here," answered Mary Grey, +opening the right-hand door and disappearing through it, with her +traveling-bag in her hand. + +She found every convenience for making a clean toilet there. And when +she had refreshed herself with a wash and a change of dress, she +re-entered the little parlor, where she found supper laid on the table +and an attentive waiter at hand. + +"I ordered supper here, because I remembered your fastidiousness and +thought you would prefer this to the public dining-room," explained +Alden. + +"Thanks! Oh, I do like it ever so much better! I can not endure the +public rooms," said Mary Grey, as she took the seat the obsequious +waiter placed for her. + +"Anything more, if you please, sir?" inquired the man. + +"N-n-no," answered Alden, hesitatingly; for in fact, if he could have +found a fair excuse, he would have preferred to have the waiter remain +in attendance. + +The man bowed and left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +THE SERPENT AT WORK. + + One sole desire, one passion, now remains + To keep life's fever still within her veins. + For this alone she lives--like lightning's fire, + To speed one bolt of ruin--and expire. + --BYRON. + + +Alden sat down at the table and began to carve a roasted chicken. + +While he was intent upon his task, Mary Grey drew from her watch-pocket +a little folded paper. With her eyes upon him, to be sure that he was +not observing her, she deftly poured a white powder from this paper into +one of the coffee-cups, and then quickly returned the empty paper to her +watch-pocket. + +Meanwhile he had taken off the liver-wing from the roasted chicken and +placed it on a warm plate, which he passed to her. + +"Will you have a cup of coffee now, or afterward?" she inquired, as she +took the offered plate. + +"Now, please. Coffee is the most refreshing of all beverages after a +fatiguing journey," he added, as he received the cup from her hands. + +It was a very nice supper, yet neither of them seemed inclined to eat. + +Mary Grey trifled with her chicken-wing, tasted her milk-toast and +sipped a little coffee. She looked pale, frightened and +self-concentrated. + +Alden Lytton drank his coffee, remarking, with a smile, that it was +very, very strong, in fact quite bitter in its strength. + +And when he had finished it he pushed the cup away, saying that it had +quite satisfied him and deprived him of the inclination to take anything +else. + +As he said this he looked at his companion, and noticed for the first +time the ghastliness of her countenance. + +"Mrs. Grey, are you ill?" he inquired, in some alarm. + +"No; only fatigued from that railway journey. The train always shakes me +into a jelly," she answered, shivering. + +"How very delicate you are, poor child! It is a great pity you should +ever be called to bear any of the roughness of life. And when my dear +Emma and I have a home together we must take care to shield you from all +that," he said. + +And then he sank into a sudden silence, while she watched him closely. + +"Will _you_ not take anything?" she inquired. + +"No, thank you. That coffee was no doubt very fine; but it was a bitter +draught, and it has taken away my appetite for anything else," he +answered, with a smile and a half-suppressed yawn. + +"Are you not well?" she next inquired. + +"Oh, yes; quite well; never better in my life!" he answered, putting his +hands on his lips to conceal an irrepressible yawn. + +"But you also seem very tired." + +"No, only deliciously sleepy, as if I would like to go to sleep and +never wake up again," he said, with a laugh and a smothered gape. + +"Then do not stand on ceremony with an old friend like me. Bid me +good-night and go at once," she said. + +"And you?" he inquired. + +"I am too tired to go to sleep yet. I shall sit in that rocking-chair +and rock gently. That motion will soothe and rest me better than +anything else, and after an hour I shall be able to go to bed and go to +sleep." + +As Mary Grey spoke, Alden Lytton staggered to his feet and tottered +toward her, held out his hand and faltered, drowsily: + +"I am forced to take your advice. I must retire at once or I shall not +be able to reach my room. I never felt so over-powered by sleep in all +my life before. Good-night, my dear Mrs. Grey. I hope that you will +sleep as well as I am sure that I shall. Good-night." + +He pressed her hand, and then, groping like a blind man, he passed into +his own room and shut the door behind him. + +Mary Grey gazed breathlessly at the closed door for a while, murmuring +to herself: + +"I doubt if that fellow will be able to divest himself of his outer +garments before he falls down headlong in a dead stupor. I have him in +my power now--I have him in my power now! At last--at last! Oh, yes! Oh, +yes, Miss Cavendish, you will marry him, will you not? And you, Stephen +Lyle, how proud you will be to have his sister for your wife and himself +for a brother-in-law! But I must cover up my tracks," she added, +suddenly, as she went around to his vacated place at the table and took +his empty cup and rinsed it out carefully several times, throwing the +water into the empty grate, where it soon dried up. Then she poured some +of the coffee-grounds from her own cup into the rinsed cup to conceal +the rinsing. Finally she drew from her watch-pocket the little white +paper from which she had poured the powder into the coffee-cup and she +held it in the blaze of the gas-light until it was burned to ashes. + +Then she sat down in the rocking-chair and smiled as she rested. + +At intervals she bent her head toward the door leading into Alden +Lytton's room and listened; but she heard no sound of life in there. + +She sat on in the rocker until the striking of a large clock somewhere +in the neighborhood aroused her. + +It was twelve o'clock. + +Midnight! + +She arose and cautiously opened the door leading into Alden Lytton's +room. + +She looked like a thief. + +The gas was turned down very low; but by its dim light she saw him +sleeping a heavy, trance-like sleep. + +She went into the room and to the door leading into the passage and +bolted it. + +Then she closed every window-shutter and drew down every window-shade +and let down the heavy moreen curtains, making all dark. + +Then she returned to the parlor, closed the intervening door and threw +herself into the rocking-chair and closed her eyes in the vain endeavor +to rest and sleep. + +But sleep and rest were far from her that night. + +The clock struck one. + +All sounds even about that busy hotel gradually ceased. The house was +still, awfully still, yet she could not sleep. + +The clock struck two. + +She started up with a shiver, exclaiming: + +"I can not sleep; but I can go to bed and lie there." + +And she went into her own room and went to bed, but not to rest. + +She heard the clock strike in succession every hour of the night, until +it finally struck four. + +Then, when the people of the house were beginning to stir, she, overcome +with fatigue and watching, at length fell asleep. + +As usual in such cases of long night watching and early morning sleep, +she slept long into the forenoon. When she awoke and looked at her watch +she found it was nine o'clock. + +She arose in haste and dressed herself. + +This was the morning in which she was to meet her unconscious +confederate in crime, Craven Kyte. + +As soon as she was dressed she went into the parlor, where, it appeared, +the waiter with his pass-key had already been before her, for the +remains of the last night's supper had been carried away and the room +had been restored to order. + +She then listened at Alden Lytton's door. + +All was dark as a vault and still as death there. + +She opened the door cautiously and went in. + +He was still sleeping a death-like sleep in the pitch-dark room. She +went and looked to the door leading into the passage and found it still +bolted. + +Then she came out of the room, locked the door between it and the +parlor, and so isolated the sleeper from all the house. + +Lastly she put on her bonnet and shawl and walked out. She walked down +the street for several blocks, and then hailed an empty cab that was +passing and engaged it to take her to a certain picture-shop in a +distant part of the city. + +It was at this shop that she had engaged to meet Craven Kyte that +morning at ten o'clock. + +A half-hour's rapid drive brought her to the place. + +On arriving, she got out, paid and dismissed the cab, and entered the +shop. + +It was not yet ten o'clock, nor had her intended tool and victim yet +made his appearance. + +It was also too early for the usual customers of the establishment. + +But a polite clerk came forward and placed a catalogue and a small +telescope in her hands, that she might the better examine the pictures. + +"Thank you. I would like to look at a city directory first, if you +please," she said, as she put aside the catalogue and the telescope. + +The clerk handed her the required volume. + +She turned to the church directory, and looked down its columns until +she found what she seemed to be in search of. + +And then she marked it with a pencil and closed the book. + +At that moment Craven Kyte entered the shop. + +On catching sight of her whom he loved and came to meet his face lighted +up with joy and he hastened toward her. + +But she held up a warning finger to him, and in obedience to its signal +he moderated his transports and came to her quietly. + +"This is no place to make demonstrations of that sort," she said. +"Here, take your pencil and a bit of paper and copy off this address for +me," she added, opening the directory and pointing to the name she had +marked. + +"The Reverend Mr. Borden, number --, ---- street," said Craven Kyte, +reading the address that he had copied. + +"That will do; now come along. We will go straight to that reverend +gentleman's house," said Mary Grey. + +And they left the shop together. + +"Oh, Mary, my love--my love! How tantalizing it is to me to meet you +here in public, where I may scarcely take your dear hand, when my heart +is nearly breaking with its repressed feelings!" he whispered, in eager +tones. + +"You impatient boy, you are worse than any spoiled child!" she said, +archly. + +"Oh, Mary, my love, my lady, you will keep your promise? You will be +mine to-day?" he pleaded. + +"I will be yours within two hours--upon one condition." + +"Name it--name it!" he eagerly exclaimed. + +"You must not marry me under your own name, but under that of Alden +Lytton." + +When she had said this, she stole a glance at him to see how he took it, +and she was somewhat abashed by the look of unutterable amazement on the +honest face of the young man. + +"Come, what do you say to that?" she inquired. + +"My dear Mary, what an astounding proposition!" he exclaimed. + +"But you will agree to it?" + +He was silent. + +"You will agree to this, because you love me," she added. + +But he continued silent and very sad. + +"You will agree to do this for the sake of making me your wife?" she +persisted. + +"My dearest Mary, it is impossible!" he answered, with a painful effort. + +"There! I knew it! Say no more! You professed great love for me once. +You were willing to do, dare, or die for me, if necessary. You wished me +to put you to the test, to _try_ you, as you called it; yet, the very +first time I have tested your sincerity, you have failed me, as I +foresaw that you would. Good-bye, Mr. Craven Kyte. We part here, and we +part forever," said Mary Grey, with cold contempt, as she turned away +from him. + +"No, no, no--for Heaven's sake, no!" cried the young man, piteously. "Do +not leave me so suddenly. Give me time to think. Oh, I can not part +with you! I must--must have you at any cost!" he muttered to himself. + +She stopped and contemplated him as with scornful pity. + +"Come--come into the square here and sit down. Let us talk this matter +over. Pray do! Oh, I can not lose you so!" he pleaded, seizing her hand. + +"Well, I will go in and sit on one of those benches for a few moments, +and give you the opportunity of recovering your place in my confidence," +she said, with a sort of contemptuous pity, as she turned and entered +the square. + +He followed her immediately, and they sat down together. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +A WICKED WEDDING. + + Bid me to leap + From off the battlements of yonder tower + And I will do it. + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +"Now tell me what you wish me to do, and why you wish me to do it," said +the lover, submissively. + +"I have already told you _what_ I wish you to do. _Why_ I wish you to do +it must remain my secret for the present. You must trust me. Oh, +Craven," she added, suddenly changing her tone to one of soft, sorrowful +pleading, "why will you not trust me, when I am about to trust you with +the happiness of my whole future life?" + +"I do trust you! I trust you, as I love you, without limit!" answered +the poor fellow, almost weeping. + +"Ah, you _say_ you do, yet you refuse to do as I wish you," sorrowfully +replied the siren. + +"I refuse no longer! I will do anything in the world you wish me to do +with joy, if in that way I can have you for my own," he declared, with +tearful emphasis. + +"I knew you would. You are a dear, good, true heart, and I love you more +than life!" she said, giving his arm a squeeze. "Listen, now." + +He became suddenly all devoted attention, as she artfully unfolded to +him just as much of her nefarious plan as was absolutely necessary to +secure his co-operation in it. The whole of her scheme in all its +diabolical wickedness she dared not expose to his honest soul. + +She told him now that she had set her mind on a harmless practical joke, +to win a wager with Emma Cavendish. + +She said that he must so with her to see the Rev. Mr. Borden, rector of +St. ---- Church, and ask him to perform the marriage ceremony between +them, and that he must give his own name as Mr. Alden Lytton, attorney +at law, Richmond, Virginia, and give her name as it was--Mrs. Mary Grey, +of the same city. And that they must be married under those names. + +The young man stared until his black eyes looked big as old Booth's in +the last scene of "Richard." + +"But why?" he inquired. + +"A practical joke, I tell you. Ah, how hard you are to manage! Why can +you not trust me through a little mystery like this--a little practical +joke like this?" + +"I _do_ trust you; but I am afraid that it might seem like a practical +forgery to be married under another person's name," he replied. + +"Nonsense! Do you think that I could be such an idiot as to implicate +you in any act that might be construed into forgery, practical or +otherwise?" she inquired, with a light laugh. + +"Oh, no, certainly you are not the lady to do that!" he admitted. + +"Well, then, what next? You look as solemn as a judge or an owl!" + +"I am afraid, also, that if I should be married under any other name +than my own our marriage itself might turn out to be nothing more than a +practical joke instead of a legal union." + +"Mr. Kyte!" she suddenly exclaimed, with her eyes flashing fire. "You +insult me! Am I the sort of woman that would compromise my good name in +a marriage of doubtful legality?" + +"Oh, no; certainly you would not! Nor did I mean that. I earnestly beg +your pardon!" said Craven, penitently. + +"You are a silly gander, and a dear, darling duck of a boy! And I love +you! But you must understand that I know what I am about. And you must +trust me--you must trust me; and, once for all, you must _trust_ me!" +she said, archly, giving his arm another squeeze. + +"I do--I do! Come; shall we be going? I am on the rack till our wedding +is over." + +"Yes; but we must take a cab. The distance is a long one." + +"There is a cab-stand a couple of blocks from here. I noticed it as I +came along. We will take one there, if you please." + +She assented, and they walked on to the stand and engaged a cab. + +When they were seated in it Craven Kyte ordered the cabman to drive to +the rectory of St. ---- Church. + +Half an hour's driving brought them to their destination. + +When the cab drew up to the door of the house, Craven was about to +alight, when Mary Grey stopped him. + +"Wait," she said. + +And taking from her card-case a pencil and a blank card, she wrote upon +it the name: + +"Mr. Alden Lytton." + +"Send that in," she said, handing the card to the bewildered young man. + +Craven Kyte took it, looked at it attentively, and then exclaimed: + +"Why, that is exactly like Mr. Lytton's own handwriting! If I had not +seen you write it I should have taken it to be his autograph." + +"Should you? So much the better. But never mind that now. Go and do as I +told you." + +He alighted immediately and went up to the door of the house. He rang +the bell, and sent in the card by the servant who answered it. + +After the lapse of a few moments the servant came back with a very +favorable message. + +Craven Kyte returned to the cab and whispered: + +"Mr. Borden is at home and will see us. Come." + +And he assisted her to alight. + +And they went into the rectory, and were shown by a servant into the +study of the rector. + +Mary Grey courtesied to the gray-haired, dignified clergyman, who arose +to receive her; but she kept her veil down as she took her seat in the +chair he placed for her. + +Craven Kyte then drew the reverend gentleman aside and spoke to him in a +low voice. + +Mr. Borden nodded and nodded as the speaker proceeded. + +When he had finished speaking, the rector inquired: + +"Both of legal age?" + +"Both of more than legal age, and both quite independent of others," +answered Craven Kyte. + +"I merely asked the question because in cases of this kind I prefer that +the parties should be of legal age; though were they minors I should +feel it to be my duty to marry them all the same, because, I think, when +a youth and maiden run away with each other the best thing a Christian +minister can do for them is to tie them together for life." + +"I am a bachelor of twenty-two years of age, and my chosen wife is a +widow of twenty-one. We take this simple method of getting married for +economy and convenience, and for no other reason; for there is no one in +the world who has either the power or the will to prevent us," said +Craven Kyte. + +"Very well, Mr. Lytton; I am ready to wait on you. I prefer, however, to +solemnize marriage in the church, when possible. There must be witnesses +also. And if you have none at hand the sexton and some members of his +family can serve." + +Craven Kyte winced at the prospect of all these formalities. + +"I thought that in the Quaker City marriage was a matter of less form," +he said. + +"Yes, among the Quakers; but even they must have witnesses. If you and +the lady will go into the church I will join you there in a few minutes. +You will find the doors open and the sexton in the building, preparing +for the usual Friday afternoon service," said the rector. + +And Craven Kyte again offered his arm to his companion and led her out +of the rectory and into the church. + +It was evident from all signs that the interior had just been swept out. + +And an old man and a young woman, whom Craven Kyte and his companion +rightly guessed to be the sexton and the sexton's daughter, were busily +engaged in dusting the pews. + +Craven Kyte and Mary Grey sat down upon a front seat before the altar to +wait until the rector should make his appearance. + +Mr. Borden did not keep them long in suspense. He soon entered, dressed +in his surplice, and took his place within the chancel. + +The candidates for matrimony advanced and stood before him. + +He beckoned the sexton and the sexton's daughter to draw near and stand +as witnesses. + +And they came up, dusting-brushes in hand, and stood staring while the +ceremony was performed. + +After the preliminary exhortation and prayers the important questions +were put: + +"Will you, Alden, take Mary to be your wedded wife, to live together +after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?" and so forth, +and so forth, and so forth. + +To which Craven Kyte, turning pale at his own unwilling duplicity in +answering to a false name, replied: + +"I will." + +"Will you, Mary, take Alden to be your wedded husband?" and so forth, +and so forth. + +To which Mary Grey answered firmly: + +"I will." + +And the ring was placed upon her finger. And her marriage vows were +solemnly repeated, the last prayer said, and the benediction pronounced. + +It was all over. + +"Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder." + +The newly-married pair were about to turn from the altar, when the +rector said: + +"Come with me into the vestry for a moment." + +And they followed him into the vestry, attended by the two witnesses. + +The rector made an entry into a large book, and then called upon the +bridegroom and the bride to sign their names. + +Again Craven Kyte turned pale as death as he registered the false name +under which he had been married. + +But his companion wrote her name in firm and steady characters. + +Then the sexton and his daughter signed as witnesses. + +The rector filled out a blank form, which he also signed and caused to +be signed by the two witnesses. + +This he put into an envelope and handed to the bride. + +Then he bowed to both, as a signal that all the forms had been complied +with, and they were at liberty to depart. + +"What was that paper the minister gave you, my dearest love?" whispered +Craven, as they left the church. + +"It was the certificate of marriage which the minister usually--and very +properly--gives to the newly-married woman," answered the bride. + +"Oh, quite right, my angel!" replied the doomed bridegroom, as he +tenderly put her into the cab and took his seat beside her. + +And then he clasped her to his honest heart in an ecstasy of love and +went off into the most extravagant rhapsodies about his happiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +AFTER THE WICKED WEDDING. + + "And I no friends to back my cause withal, + But the plain devil and dissembling looks. + I have him, but I will not keep him long." + + +"Did you tell the coachman where to drive?" inquired the bride, as the +carriage rolled rapidly through one of the principal streets of the +city. + +"Yes, dearest," answered the infatuated bridegroom. "I told him to drive +to the Asterick, where I am stopping, and where I have had elegant rooms +prepared for your reception. Do you think I could have forgotten +anything in which your comfort was concerned?" + +"No, I am sure you could not; but--" She hesitated a moment, and then +added: "I wanted to go somewhere else." + +"My love--my love, you shall go where you please. After we have got to +our rooms at the Asterick, and refreshed and rested ourselves, we will +consult about where to go and spend a pleasant fortnight together," he +answered, affectionately. + +"Yes; but I don't want to go to the Asterick just yet." + +"Where then? I will go anywhere you wish." + +"You know I did not come to this city alone." + +"Didn't you, dear? I thought you did." + +"No; I came with a party of lady friends. And I left them all abruptly +this morning to meet you, without telling them where I was going or when +I should be back. I have now been gone two hours. They will be uneasy +about me by this time. I must go back there and relieve their anxiety, +and also get my traveling-bag." + +"Very well, my darling, we will drive there immediately." + +"No, no; _you_ must not go there! I have not told them anything about my +intended marriage, so I don't want them to know anything about it, lest +they should be offended. There is a reading-room at the corner of the +street near the hotel. Stop there, and I will get out and walk to the +house and take leave of my friends, and then return to the reading-room +and join you. In the meantime you can send the carriage away, and while +waiting for me you can amuse yourself looking over the books." + +"But I hate to lose you even for an hour." + +"Ah, be reasonable, and remember that it will be but for an hour or less +time. And when we meet again it will be to part no more forever--or +until death himself shall part us." + +"I must submit, I suppose," said Craven, with a sigh. + +"Submit? Oh, you crazy boy! You talk as if you were making some painful +sacrifice!" she answered, with a light laugh. + +"It _is_ painful to let you leave me even for an hour." + +"Bah! You'll be glad to be rid of me some of these days." + +"Never!" + +"Bah, I say again! Come, here we are at the reading-room. Stop the +carriage." + +He did so. + +"Let me out here and I will walk on," she said. + +"Had you not better let me get out here, and keep your own seat and +drive on?" he inquired. + +"No. I don't want the carriage to take me to the hotel. The distance is +short. I prefer walking. You had better dismiss it, and go into the +reading-room and amuse yourself while waiting for me," she said. + +He acquiesced, and she got out and walked rapidly on toward the Blank +House. + +With her thick veil let down, she slipped in through the ladies' +entrance with some visitors that just happened to be going there. + +She hurried upstairs to her own rooms and unlocked the door of the +private parlor. + +All within the place was just as she had left it two hours before. + +She opened the window-shutters to let in the daylight, and then she went +and listened at the door communicating with Alden Lytton's room. + +At first all was still. But presently she heard a step about the room, +and soon after other motions that proved the inmate to be busy at his +toilet. + +"He is up and dressing himself. I have not returned one minute too +soon," she said, as she seated herself in an easy-chair near the window. + +The next moment the door opened and Alden Lytton entered, smiling. + +"I do not know how to apologize for my stupid neglect. But I hope you +will believe me when I assure you it was inadvertent. The truth is I +overslept myself. I can't think what made me do it," he said, actually +blushing like a boy at the thought of his involuntary sluggishness. + +"You were very much fatigued last night. I am very glad you had a +refreshing sleep. I hope you feel the better for it," she answered, with +her sweet smile. + +"Well, no; not much better. You know there is such a thing as taking too +much sleep. I feel quite as if I had taken twice too much--dull and +heavy, with a stupid headache. I never was inebriated in my life, but I +should think a man that had been so, over night, would feel just as I do +this morning." + +"Ah, I am sorry! But the fresh air will do you good, no doubt." + +"No doubt. And really it is not worth speaking of. I see you have your +hat on. You have been taking a walk this fine morning, while I lay like +a sluggard, sleeping myself into a headache?" + +"No, I have not been out. I put my hat on merely to be ready to start +the moment we had breakfasted. For I must go and see the principal of +the ladies' school this morning." + +"Why, I hope you have not waited breakfast for me all this time!" +exclaimed Alden, in a tone of regret. + +"I have not waited very long. And if I must confess the fault, I have +not been up very long myself." + +"Ah!" laughed Alden Lytton. "So somebody else overslept herself!" + +"Yes; ''tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true!'" + +"You must be hungry, however. I will ring and order breakfast directly." + +"No, please don't. It will take too much time. For once we will go down +in the dining-room and get our breakfast." + +"As you please," said Alden Lytton, as he arose to attend her +down-stairs. + +The guests had nearly all left the dining-room, so there were waiters +enough at leisure to attend to these late arrivals; and it followed, of +course, that they had not long to wait for their coffee and rolls. + +They did not tarry over their meal. Both were in a hurry. + +"I should have been at the law publisher's two hours ago," said Alden. + +"And I should have been at the ladies' school about the same time," +added Mary. + +"I shall never forgive myself for sleeping so ridiculously long and +detaining you," said Alden. + +"Say no more about it. We shall only have to hurry over our breakfast to +make up for lost time," answered the traitress. + +And they soon finished and arose from the table. + +"Will you be so good as to order a carriage for me while I run upstairs +and get my traveling-bag?" she inquired. + +"Certainly," he answered, as he gave her his arm and led her to the foot +of the grand staircase. + +And as she ran up, he turned and sent a hall porter for the carriage. + +And then he waited at the foot of the stairs for her return. + +The carriage was announced, and she reappeared about the same time. + +She carried in her hand a leather bag and a small silk umbrella, both of +which she handed to a porter. + +"This looks like a departure," said Alden Lytton, as he gave her his arm +to lead her to the carriage. + +"It may be a departure," she answered; "and I must take this, perhaps +last, opportunity of thanking you for all your brotherly kindness to me. +If I should not return by six o'clock this evening, please give up my +room." + +"I will do so," said Alden Lytton. "And in that case I also shall give +up my room, for I think I shall be able to get through with my business +to-day. If you should be returning to Virginia I should be pleased to +escort you back." + +"Thanks! But I rather think that I shall try the school. That will do. I +am very comfortable. Thanks, very much!" she added, as she settled +herself in the seat where he had placed her. + +"Where shall I tell the coachman to drive?" inquired Alden. + +"Tell him to call first at the reading-room at the corner of the next +street. I wish to look at the directory there before going further." + +This order was given to the coachman, who immediately started his +horses. + +In a very few minutes the carriage drew up before the reading-room door. + +Mary Grey--as I still prefer to call her--got out and ran into the room. + +Craven Kyte was there, trying to interest himself in a morning paper. As +soon as he saw her he dropped the paper and started to meet her. + +"It seems to me you have been gone four hours instead of one," he said. + +"I have been gone just an hour and seven minutes, you very bad boy!" she +answered, playfully. "Now, then, I am at your lordship's service." + +"Oh, my beloved, do not speak so to me, even in sport, for you are my +queen and I am your subject! Shall we go now?" + +"Yes, I have a carriage at the door, with my little luggage in it." + +"Come then, love." + +They went out together and entered the carriage. + +"Drive to the Asterick Hotel," said Craven Kyte to the coachman. + +"And tell him to drive slowly, for I wish to talk to you as we go +along," she whispered. + +"Drive slowly," said Mr. Kyte, giving her order. + +"Now, Craven, dear," she said, as they went along, "I wish you to +understand that I don't want to stop at the Asterick longer than it will +take you to pay your bill and pack your portmanteau." + +"Where do you want to go then, my darling? I am ready to go anywhere +with you," he replied. + +"Then I have a fancy for spending a few days at Havre-de-Grace. It is a +very pretty place. We can take the next train and get there in two or +three hours." + +"Very well, my angel, I will make every effort to catch that train." + +"Now, then, tell the coachman to drive fast." + +Again Craven Kyte conveyed her orders to the man on the box, who touched +up his horses. + +And they were whirled rapidly on toward the Asterick Hotel, where they +soon arrived. + +"Hadn't I better tell the carriage to wait?" inquired Craven Kyte. + +"No; send it away. We can pick up another one in a moment," answered his +companion. + +Craven Kyte paid and discharged the carriage, and they went into the +house. + +He took his companion up into the private parlor he had engaged for her, +and he pressed her to partake of some refreshments while he packed up +his portmanteau and paid his bill. + +But she declined the refreshments and said she would wait, keeping +herself closely veiled all the time. + +He hurried through his business as fast as he could, and soon rejoined +her. + +He took her down to the cab he had engaged, and which was already packed +with their luggage. + +A half-hour's rapid drive took them to the railway station, which they +reached only in time to buy their tickets, check their baggage and take +their seats before the train started. + +It was the express. And they were soon whirled through the country to +the town where the bride chose to spend her honeymoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +HER CRIME. + + +They took rooms in a pleasant hotel in the town, and after an early tea +they strolled down to the water-side to look at the small shipping. + +It was a delicious evening in September. The sun had just set, and the +whole expanse of water was aflame with the afterglow. + +A refreshing breeze had sprung up, and the river was alive with pleasure +boats of every description, from the sail- to the row-boat. + +And there were more boats for hire, at the service of any who might wish +to amuse themselves upon the water. + +"Take a boat. Craven, and let us go out for a row. The evening is so +delightful, the sky and the water so beautiful," said the bride, +coaxingly. + +"I would like to do so, my angel; but, to tell the truth, I am a very +inexperienced oarsman, and I can not swim at all," answered the poor +fellow, apologetically. + +"Are you afraid then, Craven?" she asked, with exasperating archness. + +"No, love, not for myself, but for you. If by my awkwardness any +accident should happen to you I think I should run raving mad," he +answered, earnestly. + +"Oh, well, never mind me! There is no cause for fear whatever, as far as +I am concerned. I can row like a squaw and I can swim like a duck. And I +think I could do so ever since I could walk. At least, I certainly do +not remember the time when I could not swim," said the lady, laughingly. + +"What a wonder you are--in everything!" exclaimed the lover-bridegroom, +in a rapture of admiration. + +"No wonder at all. I was brought up on the water-side, and was always a +sort of amphibious little creature, as often in the water as out of it. +Come, now, will you hire a boat to please me?" + +"Of course! I would do anything in the world to please you, my angel!" + +"Then engage that little pea-green boat. It is a nice one," she said, +pointing to a frail skiff moored near them. + +"That, my dearest Mary? Why, that is a mere egg-shell! It could not live +in rough water. And if this gentle breeze should rise into a wind--" + +"Are you afraid?" she inquired, with provoking sarcasm. + +"I say again not for myself, but for you." + +"And I say again that there can be no ground of fear for me. I say again +I can row like a squaw and swim like a duck. There! Now will you get the +boat I want?" + +"Yes, my darling, I will. And I will also take the precaution to hire +the man in charge of it to help us row, in case of accidents." + +"No, no, no; I won't have the man! He would spoil all our pleasure. I +want you and myself to go out alone together, and have no interloper +with us." + +"But, my beloved--" + +"I don't believe you love me at all, when you want a great hulking +boatman to be in the boat with us, watching us," said the bride, with +pretty childish petulance. + +"Not love you? Oh, heaven of heavens! You _know_ how I love you--how I +_adore_ you--how I _worship_ you!" he whispered, earnestly. + +"Will you get the boat I want before it grows too dark?" + +"Yes, yes, I will, my darling! I can refuse you nothing," said the +infatuated bridegroom as he walked down to the water's edge and +forthwith hired the one she had set her heart on. + +Then he came back to take her down to the boat. + +It was a mere shell, as he had said; and though the boatman declared +that it could easily carry six if required, it did not look as if it +would safely bear more than two or three passengers at most. + +They were soon floating out upon the water and down with the tide past +the dingy colliers and the small trading vessels that were anchored +there, and out among the coming and going sloops and schooners. + +"Let me row toward that beautiful wooded shore. It is so lovely over +there!" said Mary Grey, coaxingly. + +"'Distance lends,' and so forth," smiled Craven Kyte, as he at once +headed for the shore. + +But the outgoing tide had left a muddy beach there, and so they had to +keep at a respectful distance from it. + +They rowed again to the middle of the river. + +The afterglow had faded away, but the blue-black starlit sky was +brilliantly reflected in the dark water. + +When they had rowed an hour longer, back and forth from shore to shore, +Craven Kyte drew in his oar and said: + +"It is growing late and very dark, love. Had we not better go in?" + +"No, no, no!" answered the bride, with prettily assumed authority. + +"But, dear love--" + +"The night is beautiful! I could stay out here until morning!" + +"But chills and fevers, these September nights, darling!" + +"Fiddle-de-dee! Are you afraid?" + +"Not for myself, love, but for you." + +"I never had a chill in my life! I am acclimated to these water-side +places. If you are tired of rowing give me the oars." + +"Not for the world! What, fatigue your dear arms? I would sooner mine +dropped from my shoulders with weariness!" + +And he took up both oars again and plied them actively, although his +unaccustomed muscles were aching from the long-continued exercise. + +"Turn down the stream then and row with the tide. It will be so much +lighter work than rowing back and forth across the river." + +"But it will take us so far from the town." + +"Never mind!" + +"And it will make it very difficult, when we turn back, to row against +wind and tide." + +"Bah, we will not stay out long! We will only go around that point that +I see before us. What a fascination there is in a turning point! We +always want to see what is on the other side," said Mary Grey, lightly. + +Meantime, Craven Kyte had turned the boat and they were floating down +stream very fast. + +They soon passed the point, and saw on the other side a flat, sandy +shore, with the woods at a little distance. + +They were still off the point, when Mary Grey suddenly uttered an +exclamation of dismay. + +"What is the matter?" hastily inquired Craven Kyte. + +"Oh, my hat! My hat has fallen off my head and is in the water! If you +stoop over quick you can reach it before it floats quite away!" she +said, eagerly. + +Craven Kyte immediately drew in his oars and secured them, and then bent +over the side of the boat to reach the hat that was still floating +within three feet of his hands. He bent very far out and endangered his +balance. + +Mary Grey arose to her feet. Her eyes were glittering like phosphorus in +the night, her face pallid in the starlight. + +He bent lower down and further out, trying to reach the hat, when +suddenly she gave him a push and he fell into the river, and went down +before he could utter the cry upon his lips. + +The force with which she had pushed her victim into the water had given +the little boat an impetus that sent it flying down the stream, and +rocking violently from side to side. + +It was as much as she could do to keep her place in it. Any other than +an experienced boat-woman like herself must have been shaken out and +drowned. + +She heard her victim's agonized scream for help as he rose the first +time to the surface of the water. + +But she gave it no attention. + +For even if she had repented, and had wished to save him, she could not +do so now. + +She could, with the greatest difficulty, keep her place in the rocking +boat until the impetus that had started it was spent. + +Yet again that awful cry for help pierced the night sky as the drowning +man arose the second time to the surface; but on this occasion the cry +sounded farther off, and the boat, though it had ceased to rock, was +flying rapidly down stream. + +She took hold of the rudder and tried to guide the flying little shell. + +Her situation, self-sought as it had been, was one of almost intolerable +horror. + +The night sky was above her, the dark waters beneath her, and around +her, at various distances, like little dim white specks, were to be seen +the sails of the coming and going colliers, and other small trading +craft. + +She steered down the stream with the tide, pausing now and then and +listening. But she heard no more that agonized cry of the drowning man, +though she knew it would ring in her spirit's ears forever. + +She steered down stream until she heard the sound of oars, and of merry +laughter and cheerful talk, and then she dimly perceived the approach of +a large pleasure boat crowded with gentlemen and ladies. + +Then she, knowing it was too late to save her victim, deceitfully raised +a shrill scream, that attracted the attention of the people in the large +boat, which was immediately rowed in the direction of the cry. + +Soon the two boats were side by side. + +"What is the matter?" inquired a man's voice from the larger boat. + +"Oh, for Heaven's sake, help! My companion has fallen overboard, and, I +fear, is drowned!" cried Mary Grey, wringing her hands in well-simulated +grief and terror. + +"Where? Where?" inquired a dozen eager, interested voices, all at once. + +"Just about here. Oh, look for him, listen for him! Do try to save him!" +cried the hypocrite, seizing her own hair, as if she would have pulled +it out by the roots, in her pretended anguish of mind. + +"Where did he fall? Did he not struggle?" inquired two or three voices, +as the oarsmen rowed their boat around and around in a circle and peered +over the surface of the water for some sign of the lost man. + +"Oh, he sank at once--he sank at once!" cried Mary Grey, beating her +breast. + +"But he will come up again. They always do, unless they are seized with +the cramp and it holds them. Keep a bright lookout there, boys, and if +you see so much as a ripple in the water make for it at once! We may +save the poor fellow yet!" said the voice of a man who seemed to be in +authority. + +"How in the world did he happen to fall over, miss?" inquired another +voice. + +"Oh, my miserable, unlucky hat blew off my head and fell into the water. +I begged him not to mind it--told him I would tie a pocket-handkerchief +over my head--but he wouldn't listen to me. Oh, he wouldn't listen me! +And so, in stooping to recover my wretched hat, he bent over too far, +lost his balance and fell into the water. And oh, he sank at once like +lead! Oh, do try to find him! Oh, do try to save him! He might be +resuscitated even now, if you could find him--might he not?" she cried, +wringing her hands. + +"Oh, yes, ma'am!" answered a man, in his good-natured wish to soothe who +he took to be a distracted woman. + +And they rowed around and around, peering into the water and listening +for every sound. + +But there was no sign of the lost man. + +After they had sought for him about an hour the man who seemed to be the +chief among them said: + +"I am afraid it is quite vain, ma'am. It is not a drowning, but a +drowned man that we have been seeking for the last hour. Tell us where +you wish to go, and we will take you home. To-morrow the body may be +recovered." + +But Mary Grey, with a wild shriek, fell back in her boat and lay like +one in a swoon. + +"We must take the lady into this boat of ours, and tow the little one +after us," said the man. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +AFTER THE DARK DEED. + + +Mary Grey was lifted, in an apparently fainting condition, from her own +little boat into the larger one beside it. She was laid down carefully +and waited on tenderly by the sympathizing ladies in the larger boat. + +Meanwhile the little boat was tied to the stern of the larger one, to be +towed up the river. + +"Where are we to take the poor unfortunate woman, I wonder?" said one of +the ladies. + +"If she does not come to her senses in time to tell us where she lives +you can bring her to my house," answered another lady. + +"Or to mine," said a third. + +"Or mine," added a fourth. + +"Or mine," "or mine," chimed in others. + +Everybody was emulous to succor this unhappy one. + +As they neared the city Mary Grey condescended to heave a deep sigh, +shudder and open her eyes. + +Then a chorus of sympathizing voices saluted her. But she wept and +moaned, and pretended to refuse to be comforted. + +It was some time before the persevering efforts of a gentleman succeeded +in persuading her to understand and answer his question as to where she +lived. + +"At the Star Hotel," she said, with a gasp and a sigh, as if her heart +were broken. + +The boat landed; and the "poor lady," as she was compassionately called, +was tenderly lifted out by the gentlemen and carefully supported between +two of them while she was led to the hotel, followed by the ladies. + +The sad news of the young gentleman's fate was immediately communicated +to the people at the hotel, and soon spread through the town. + +Ah, the drowning of a man at that point was not such an unusual event +after all, and it made much less impression than it ought to have done. + +Some people said they felt sorry for the poor young woman so suddenly +bereaved and left among strangers; and perhaps they really believed that +they did so; but the next instant they thought of something else. + +But the ladies who had been present near the scene of the catastrophe, +and had witnessed Mary Grey's well-acted terror, grief and despair, +really did sympathize with her supposed sorrows to a very painful +extent. + +After following her to the hotel, they went with her to her room, and +helped to undress her and put her to bed. + +And two among them offered to remain and watch with her during the +night. + +The sinful woman, already a prey to the horrors of remorse and +superstition, dreading the darkness and solitude of the night, fearing +almost to see the dripping specter of the drowned man standing over her +bed, gratefully accepted their offer, and begged, at the same time, for +morphia. + +Her kind attendants were afraid to administer a dangerous opiate without +the advice of a physician; so they sent for one immediately, who, on his +arrival and his examination of the terribly excited patient, gave her a +dose that soon sent her to sleep. + +The two ladies took their places by her bed and watched her. + +She slept well through the night, and awoke quite calmly in the morning. +The composing influence of the morphia had not yet left her. + +And with the returning daylight much of her remorse and all of her +superstition vanished for the time being. + +She thanked the ladies who had watched her during the night, and, in +reply to their inquiries, assured them that she felt better, but begged +them to keep her room dark. + +They expressed their gratification to hear her say so. One of them +bathed her face and hands and combed her hair, while the other one rang +the bell, and ordered tea and toast to be brought to the room. + +And they tenderly pressed her to eat and drink, and they waited on her +while she partook slightly of this light breakfast. + +Then they rang and sent the breakfast service away, and they put her +room in order, and smoothed her pillows and the coverlet of her bed, and +finally they kissed her and bade her good-morning for a while, promising +to return again in the course of the afternoon, and begging that she +would send for them, at the address they gave her, in case she should +require their services sooner. + +When she was left alone, Mary Grey slipped out of bed, locked the door +after the ladies, and then, having secured herself from intrusion, she +opened her traveling-bag and took from it a small white envelope, from +which she drew a neatly-folded white paper. + +This was the marriage certificate, setting forth that on the fifteenth +day of September, eighteen hundred and ----, at the parish church of +St. ----, in the city of Philadelphia, Alden Lytton, attorney at law, of +the city of Richmond, and Mary Grey, widow, of the same city, were +united in the holy bonds of matrimony by the Rev. Mr. Borden, rector of +the church, in the presence of John Martin, sexton, and Sarah Martin, +his daughter. + +The certificate was duly signed by the Rev. Mr. Borden and by John +Martin and Sarah Martin. + +Mary Grey sat down with this document before her, read it over slowly, +and laughed a demoniac laugh as she folded it up and put it carefully +into its envelope and returned it to her traveling-bag, while she +reviewed her plot and "summed up the evidence" she had accumulated +against the peace and honor of Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish. + +"Yes, I will let him marry her," she said, "and then, in the midst of +their fancied security and happiness, I will come down upon them like an +avalanche of destruction. I will claim him for my own husband by a +previous marriage. I have evidence enough to convict and ruin him. + +"First, I have all his impassioned letters, written to me from +Charlottesville, while I was a guest at the Government House in +Richmond. + +"Secondly, I have those perfectly manufactured letters addressed to me +in a fac-simile of his handwriting, signed by his name and mailed from +Wendover to me at Richmond. + +"Why, these alone would be sufficient to prove his perfidy even to Emma +Cavendish's confiding heart! And they would be good for heavy damages in +a breach of promise case. + +"But I do not want damages--I want revenge. I do not want to touch his +pocket--I want to ruin his life. Yes--and hers! I want to dishonor, +degrade and utterly ruin them both! And I have evidence enough to do +this," she said, resuming her summing up, "for there is-- + +"Thirdly, his meeting me at Forestville and his journey with me to +Richmond. + +"Fourthly, his journey with me to Philadelphia. + +"Fifthly, the rector's certificate, setting forth the marriage of Alden +Lytton and Mary Grey. + +"Sixthly, the testimony of the rector, who will swear that he performed +the ceremony, and of the sexton and the sexton's daughter, who will +swear that they witnessed the marriage of Alden Lytton and Mary Grey; +and swear, furthermore--from his exact resemblance to Craven Kyte--to +the identity of Alden Lytton as the bridegroom. + +"Alden Lytton can not disprove this by an alibi, for at the very time +Craven Kyte personated him, and under his name and character married me, +Alden Lytton, in a dead stupor, was locked up in his darkened chamber, +and no one knew of his whereabouts but myself, who had the key of his +room. + +"Nor can Craven Kyte 'ever rise to explain,' for death and the +Susquehanna mud has stopped his mouth. + +"So this chain of evidence must be conclusive not only to the minds of +the jury, who will send my gentleman to rusticate in a penitentiary for +a term of years, but also to Miss Cavendish, who will find her proud +escutcheon blotted a little, I think." + +While Mary Grey gloated over the horrors of her plotted vengeance, there +came a rap at the door. She hastily put on a dressing-gown, softly +unlocked the door, threw herself into an easy-chair, with her back to +the window, and bade the rapper to come in. + +The door opened and the clerk of the house entered, bringing with him +the house register, which he held open in his hand. + +"I beg your pardon for this unseasonable intrusion, madam," he said, as +he laid the open book down on the table before her; "but being called +upon to report this sad case of the drowning of a guest of this house, I +find some difficulty in making out the name, for the poor young +gentleman does not seem to have written very clearly. The name is +registered C. or G. something or other. But whether it is Hyte or Flyte +or Kyle or Hyle, none of us can make out." + +Mary Grey smiled within herself, as she secretly rejoiced at the +opportunity of concealing the real name and identity of Craven Kyte with +the drowned man. + +So she drew the book toward her and said, with an affectation of +weariness and impatience, as she gazed upon poor Craven's illegible +hieroglyphics: + +"Why, the name is quite plain! It is G. Hyle--H-y-l-e. Don't you see?" + +"Oh, yes, madam! I see now quite plainly. Excuse me: they ask for the +full name. Would you please to tell me what the initial G stands for?" + +"Certainly. It stands for Gaston. His name was Gaston Hyle. He was a +foreigner, as his name shows. There, there, pray do not talk to me any +more! I can not bear it," said Mary Grey, affecting symptoms of +hysterical grief. + +"I beg your pardon for having troubled you, madam, indeed! And I thank +you for the information you have given me. Good-day, madam," said the +clerk, bowing kindly and courteously as he withdrew. + +The next day the newspapers, under the head of casualties, published the +following paragraph: + + "On Friday evening last a young man, a foreigner, of + the name of Gaston Hyle, who had been stopping at the + Star Hotel, Havre-de-Grace, was accidentally drowned + while boating on the river. His body has not yet been + recovered." + +No, nor his body never was recovered. + +Mary Grey, for form's sake, remained a week at Havre-de-Grace, affecting +great anxiety for the recovery of that body. But she shut herself up in +her room, pretending the deepest grief, and upon this pretext refusing +all sympathizing visits, even from the ladies who had shown her so much +kindness on the night of the catastrophe, and from the clergy, who would +have offered her religious consolation. + +The true reason of her seclusion was that she did not wish her features +to become familiar to these people, lest at some future time they might +possibly be inconveniently recognized. + +As yet no one had seen her face except by night or in her darkened room. +And she did not intend that they should. + +Her supposed grievous bereavement was her all-sufficient excuse for her +seclusion. + +At the end of the week Mary Grey paid her bill at the Star, and, +closely-veiled, left the hotel and took the evening train for +Washington, _en route_ for Richmond. + +In due time she reached the last-named city and took up her residence at +her old quarters with the Misses Crane, there to wait patiently until +the marriage of Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish should give her the +opportunity of consummating their ruin and her own triumph. Meanwhile +poor Craven Kyte's leave of absence having expired, he began to be +missed and inquired for. + +But to all questions his partner answered that he did not know where he +was or when he would be back, but thought he was all right. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +GREAT PROSPERITY. + + Fortune is merry, + And in this mood will give us anything. + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +Alden Lytton prospered wonderfully. Not once in a thousand instances can +a young professional man get on as fast as he did. + +Usually the young lawyer or doctor has to wait long before work comes to +him, and then to work long before money comes. + +It was not so with Alden Lytton. + +As soon as he opened his office business came in at the door. + +His first brief was a success. + +His second, and more difficult one, was a still greater victory. + +His third, and most important, was the greatest triumph of the three. + +And from this time the high road to fame and fortune was open to him. + +The astonishing rapidity of his rise was explained in various ways by +different persons. + +Emma Cavendish, who loved and esteemed him, ascribed his great +prosperity to his own splendid talents alone. + +Alden Lytton himself, full of filial respect, attributed it to the +prestige of his late father's distinguished name. + +And the briefless young lawyers, his unsuccessful rivals at the bar, +credited it to the "loud" advertisement afforded by his handsome office +and the general appearance of wealth and prosperity that surrounded him. + +No doubt they were all right and--all wrong. + +Not one of these circumstances taken alone could have secured the young +barrister's success. Neither his own talents nor his father's name, nor +the costly appointments of his office, could have done it; yet each +contributed something, and all together they combined to insure his +rapid advancement in his profession. + +While Alden Lytton was thus gaining fame and fortune, Mary Grey was +engaged in mystifying the minds and winning the sympathy and compassion +of all her acquaintances. + +From the time of her return from Philadelphia she had exhibited a deep +and incurable melancholy. + +Everybody pitied her deeply and wondered what could be the secret sorrow +under which she was suffering. + +But when any friend more curious than the rest ventured to question her, +she answered: + +"I have borne and am still bearing the deepest wrong that any woman can +suffer and survive. But I must not speak of it now. My hands are bound +and my tongue is tied. But the time _may_ come when a higher duty than +that which restrains me now may force me to speak. Until then I must be +mute." + +This was extremely tantalizing to all her friends; but it was all that +could be got from her. + +Meanwhile her face faded into a deadlier pallor and her form wasted to a +ghastlier thinness. And this was real, for she was demon-haunted--a +victim of remorse, not a subject of repentance. + +The specter that she had feared to look upon on the fatal night of her +crime--the pale, dripping form of her betrayed and murdered lover--was +ever before her mind's eye. + +If she entered a solitary or a half-darkened room the phantasm lurked in +the shadowy corners or met her face to face. + +It came to her bedside in the dead of night and laid its clammy wet hand +upon her sleeping brow. And when she woke in wild affright it met her +transfixed and horrified gaze. + +Her only relief was in opium. She would stupefy herself every night with +opium, and wake every morning pale, haggard, dull and heavy. + +She must have sunk under her mental suffering and material malpractices +but for the one purpose that had once carried her into crime and now +kept her alive through the terror and remorse that were the natural +consequences of that crime. She lived only for revenge-- + + "Like lightning fire, + To speed one bolt of ruin and expire!" + +"I will live and keep sane until I degrade and destroy both Alden Lytton +and Emma Cavendish, and then--I must die or go mad," she said to +herself. + +Such was her inner life. + +Her outer life was very different from this. + +She was still, to all appearance, a zealous church woman, never missing +a service either on Sundays or on week-days; never neglecting the +sewing-circles, the missionary meetings, the Sunday-schools, or any +other of the parish works or charities, and always contributing +liberally to every benevolent enterprise from the munificent income paid +her quarterly by Miss Cavendish. + +Since her return from Philadelphia she had not resumed her acquaintance +with Alden Lytton. + +They did not attend the same church, and were not in the same circle. It +was a very reserved "circle" in which Mary Grey "circulated;" while +Alden Lytton sought the company of professional and scholarly men. + +Thus for months after their return to Richmond they did not meet. + +Alden Lytton in the meanwhile supposed her to be still in Philadelphia, +filling a position as drawing-mistress in the ladies' college. + +It was early in the winter when they accidentally encountered each other +on Main Street. + +On seeing her form approach, Alden Lytton stepped quickly to meet her, +with an extended hand and a bright smile; but the next instant he +started in sorrowful surprise, as his eyes fell on her pallid face, so +changed since he had seen it last. + +"My dear Mrs. Grey, I am so glad to see you! I hope I see you well," he +added, as he took her hand, but his looks belied his "hope." + +"I am not well, thank you," she answered plaintively, and her looks did +not belie her words. + +"I am very sorry to hear it. How long have you been in the city?" he +next inquired, holding her hand and looking at her with eyes full of +pity. + +"I have been back some time," she answered, vaguely. "I was forced to +leave my situation from failing health." + +"I did not know that you had returned or I should have called on you +before this. But," he added, perceiving her physical weakness, "I am +wrong to keep you standing here. I will turn about and walk with you +while we talk. Which way are you going? Will you take my arm?" + +"Thanks, no, Mr. Lytton. I can not take your arm; and neither, if you +will forgive me for saying it, can I receive a visit from you. The world +is censorious, Alden Lytton. And in my lonely and unprotected position I +dare not receive the visits of gentlemen," she answered, pensively. + +"That seems hard, but doubtless it is discreet. However, that will all +be changed, I hope, in a little while. In a very few months, I trust, +your home will be with my beloved wife and myself. I know it is Emma's +desire that you should live with us," he said, still kindly holding her +thin hand. + +"Is your wedding to come off so soon?" she inquired. + +"Yes, in a few weeks, and then we are to go to Europe for a short +holiday, and afterward take a house in the city here," said Alden, +smiling. + +"I wish you every joy in your wedded life. And now, Mr. Lytton, you must +let me go," she said, wearily. + +"One moment. You do not write to Emma often, do you? I ask because only +a week ago, in one of her letters to me, Miss Cavendish wrote that she +had not heard from you for nearly three months, and requested me to find +out your address, if possible. I wrote back in reply that I believed you +to be at the Ladies' College, in Philadelphia," he said, still detaining +her hand. + +"I am a bad correspondent. My hand is still lame. Just before I left +here for Philadelphia I sent Miss Cavendish an acknowledgment of the +last quarterly sum she sent me. I told her then that I was about to go +to Philadelphia on particular business. I have not written to her +since." + +"And that was nearly three months ago. That is just what the matter is. +She wishes to find out your address, so as to know where to send the +next quarterly instalment of your income, which will soon be due." + +"Tell her that I have returned to this city, and that my address is the +same as that to which she last wrote." + +"I will; but do you write to her also. I know she is anxious to hear +directly from you." + +"I will do so," she replied; "though I am the worst possible +correspondent. Now good-day, Mr. Lytton." + +"If I may not call to see you, at least I hope that you will let me know +if ever I can serve you in any manner," he said, gently, as he pressed +the pale hand he had held so long and relinquished it. + +They parted then, and saw no more of each other for some days. + +Alden went on his office, full of pity for the failing woman, who, he +said to himself, could not possibly have many months to live. + +But his feelings of painful compassion were soon forgotten in his +happiness in finding a letter from Emma Cavendish lying with his +business correspondence on his desk. + +There was really nothing more in it than appeared in just such letters +that he received two or three times a week; only she told him that she +had written to Mrs. Grey at the Ladies' College, Philadelphia, and had +not received any answer to her letter. + +Before doing any other business, Alden Lytton took a half-quire of +note-paper and dashed off an exuberant letter to his lady-love, in +which, after repeating the oft-told story of her peerless loveliness and +his deathless devotion, he came down to practical matters, and spoke of +their mutual friend Mary Grey. He told Emma that Mrs. Grey was in the +city again, where she had been for some weeks, although he had not been +aware of the fact until he had met her that morning on Main Street while +on the way to his office. + +He told her of "poor Mary Grey's" failing health and spirits and ghastly +appearance, and suggested those circumstances as probable reasons why +she had not written to her friends during the last three months. + +Then he went back to the old everlasting theme of his infinite, eternal +love, etc., etc., etc., and closed with fervent prayers and blessings +and joyful anticipations. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +THE MASK THROWN OFF. + + +As a consequence of this, two days afterward Mary Grey received a +tender, affectionate, sympathetic letter from Emma Cavendish pressing +her to come down to Blue Cliffs at once and let them love her and nurse +her back to health and happiness. And this letter inclosed a check for +double the amount of the usual quarterly stipend. + +Miss Cavendish, for some coy reason or other, did not allude to her +approaching marriage. Perhaps she deferred the communication purposely, +with the friendly hope that Mary Grey would visit her at Blue Cliffs, +where she could make it to her in person. + +Mrs. Grey, who did not dare to let her true handwriting go to Blue +Cliffs, lest it should be seen and recognized by Mrs. Fanning, and who +could not disguise it safely either, without some fair excuse to Emma +Cavendish for doing so, put on a tight glove, and took a hard stiff pen +and wrote a short note, full of gratitude and affection for Emma and all +the family, and of complaints about her wretched crippled finger, that +made it so painful for her to write, and prevented her from doing so as +often as she wished; and of her still more wretched health, that +hindered her from accepting her dear friend's kind invitation. + +In reply to this letter, she got another, and a still kinder one, in +which Miss Cavendish spoke of her own speedily approaching marriage, and +pressed Mrs. Grey to come and be present on the occasion, adding: + + "My dearest, you _must_ make an effort and come. Alden himself + will escort you on the journey, and take such good care of you + that you shall suffer no inconvenience from the journey. You must + come, for my happiness will not be complete without the presence + of my dear father's dearest friend--of her who was to have been + his bride." + +This loving and confiding letter was never answered or even acknowledged +by Mrs. Grey. It was entirely ignored, its contents were never mentioned +to any one, and itself was torn to fragments and burned to ashes. + +Two more letters of precisely the same character were written to her by +Miss Cavendish; but they suffered the same fate at the hands of Mrs. +Grey. + +She had a deep motive in ignoring and destroying those letters. She did +not wish the world ever by any accident to find out that she had been +informed of the approaching marriage of Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish +before it had taken place, or in time to prevent it. + +Two weeks passed, and then she received a visit from Mr. Alden Lytton. + +She received him alone in the front drawing-room. + +He apologized for calling on her after she had forbidden him to do so, +but said that he came on the part of Miss Cavendish to ask if she had +received certain letters from Blue Cliff Hall, and to renew, in Emma's +name, her pressing invitation to Mrs. Grey to come and be present at the +approaching wedding. + +"Emma wishes me to take charge of you on the journey. And I assure you, +if you will intrust yourself to me, I will take such tender care of you +that you shall know neither fatigue nor inconvenience of any sort," he +added, earnestly. + +"I can not go," she answered, coldly. + +"Ah, do, for your friend's sake, change your mind," pleaded Alden. + +"I can not," she answered. + +"But Emma will be so disappointed!" + +"I can not help it if she should be. I can not be present at the +wedding," she repeated, faintly. + +"But why not? Why can you not go?" persisted Alden. + +"Man--man," she burst forth, suddenly, as her whole face changed +fearfully, "how can you ask me such a question? Do you forget that _we_ +were to have been married once?--that _we_ loved each other once? But +you threw me over. Now you invite me to your wedding with my rival! And +you ask me why I can not go! Do you take me for a woman of wood or stone +or iron? You will find me a woman of fire! I told you not to come +here--to keep away from me! If you had had sense to perceive--if you had +had even eyes in your head to see with, you would have obeyed me and +avoided me! I told you not to come here. I tell you now to go away. I +will not be present at your wedding. Make what explanation or excuse to +Miss Cavendish you please. Tell her, if you like, that the heart you +have given her was first offered to _me_--that the vows you have made to +her were first breathed at _my_ feet! Tell her," she added, with keen +contempt, "that you are but a poor, second-handed article, after all! +Now go, I say! Why do you stand gazing upon me? Go, and never come near +me, if you can help it, again! For I fancy that you will not feel very +glad to see me when _next_ we meet!" she hissed, with a hidden meaning, +between her clinched teeth. + +Alden Lytton was so unutterably amazed by this sudden outbreak that he +had no power of replying by word or gesture. Without resenting her +fierce accusation, or even noticing her covert threat, he stood staring +at her for a moment in speechless amazement. + +"Are you going?" she fiercely demanded. + +"I am going," he said, recovering his self-possession. "I am going. But, +Mrs. Grey, I am more surprised and grieved than I have words to express. +I shall never, willingly, voluntarily approach you again. If, however, +you should ever need a friend, do not hesitate to call on me as freely +as you would upon a brother, and I shall serve you in any way in my +power as willingly as if you were my own sister." + +"Ur-ur-ur-r-r!" she broke forth, in an inarticulate growl of disgust and +abhorrence. + +"Good-bye!" he said, very gently, as he bowed and left the room. + +Nothing but sympathy and compassion for this "poor woman," as he called +her, filled his heart. + +Her outbreak of hysterical passion had been a revelation to him; but it +had shown him only half the truth. In its light he saw that she loved +him still, but he did not see that she hated her rival. He saw that she +was jealous, but did not see that she was revengeful. + +He reproached himself bitterly, bitterly, for ever having fallen under +her spell, for ever having loved her, or sought to win her love, and for +thus being the remote cause of her present sorrows. + +He had never confided to Emma Cavendish the story of his first foolish, +boyish love, and sufferings and cure. For Mary Grey's sake he had kept +that secret from his betrothed, from whom he had no other secret in the +world. + +But now he felt that he must tell Emma the truth, gently and lovingly, +lest Mary Grey should do it rudely and angrily. + +For Mary Grey's sake he had hitherto been silent. For his own and Emma +Cavendish's sake he must now speak. + +He went straight to the telegraph office and dispatched a message to +Miss Cavendish, saying that he should be down to Wendover by the next +train to pay her a flying visit. + +Then he hurried to his office, put his papers in order, left some +directions with his clerk, and hastened off to the railway station, +where he caught the train just as it started, and jumped aboard the cars +while they were in motion. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +A SUDDEN WEDDING. + + +It was midnight when the Richmond train reached Wendover, and Alden +Lytton went to the Reindeer for the night. + +Early in the morning he arose and breakfasted, and ordered a horse to +take him to Blue Cliff Hall. + +Just as he was getting into the saddle Jerome, the colored footman from +the Hall, rode up holding two papers in his left hand, and staring at +them with perplexity. + +"Halloo, Jerome, how do you do?" called out Mr. Lytton, cheerfully. + +The boy looked up, and his surprise and perplexity instantly mounted to +consternation and amazement. + +"Well, dis yer's witchcraf', and nuffin else!" he exclaimed. + +"What is witchcraft, you goose?" laughed Alden. + +"Look yer, massa," said Jerome, riding up to his side and putting the +two papers in his hand, "you jes look at dem dere!" + +Alden took the papers and looked as required. + +Both papers were telegrams. One was his own telegram to Emma Cavendish, +saying: + +"I shall be down to see you by the next train." + +The other was a telegram from Emma Cavendish to himself, saying: + +"Come down at once." + +"Well, what of all this? Here is a message and its answer. What is there +in this like witchcraft?" + +"Why, massa, 'cause de answer came afore de message went, and you +yerself come quick as enny. Dere's de witchcraf'." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I knowed as de telegraf was fast, and likewise de steam cars, but I +didn't know as dey was bof so fast as to answer a message afore it was +axed, and fetch a gemman afore he was sent for. But here's de answer, +and here's you." + +"This is all Hebrew to me." + +"Which it is likewise a conundrum to me," retorted Jerome. + +"Tell me what you have been doing, and perhaps I shall understand you," +laughed Alden Lytton. + +"Well, massa, this mornin' by daybreak Miss Emmer sent for me, and gave +me this," he said, pointing to the young lady's telegram. "And, says +she: + +"'Jerome, saddle the fastest horse in de stable and ride as fast as you +can to Wendover and send this message off to Mr. Lytton. Lose no time, +for we want him to come down here as soon as possible.' + +"Well, Massa Alden, I didn't lose no time, sar, nor likewise let de +grass grow underneaf of my feet. I reckon I was in de saddle and off in +about ten minutes. But fast as I was, bress you, sar, de telegraf was +faster! When I got to de office and hand de message in to de gemman dere +I says: + +"'Send it off quick, 'cause Miss Emmer wants Massa Alden to come down +right away.' + +"'All right,' he says. 'De young gemman will be down by de next train. +And here's yer answer to yer message.' + +"And sure nuff, Massa Alden, he hands me this yer," said Jerome, +pointing to Alden's own telegram. "And here's you too! Now, what anybody +think ob dat if it a'n't witchcraf'?" + +"It is a coincidence, my good fellow. I was coming down, and I +telegraphed Miss Cavendish to that effect. When you brought her message +to the office you received mine, which must have been delayed. It is a +coincidence." + +"Well I s'pose a coimperence is a fine book-larnin' name for +witchcraf'; but it's all the same thing after all," persisted Jerome. + +"I hope they are all well at Blue Cliffs," said Mr. Lytton, who felt +some little uneasiness connected with Emma's telegram. + +"Yes, sar, dey's all purty well, 'cept 'tis de ole madam. She a'n't been +that hearty as she ought to 'a' been." + +"I hope she is not seriously ill." + +"No, sar; dough I did leave a message long o' Doctor Willet to come out +dere dis morning; but you know de ole madam do frequent send for de +doctor." + +"Come, Jerome, we must get on to the Hall," said Mr. Lytton, as he rode +out of the inn yard and turned into the road leading to Blue Cliffs, +followed by the servant. + +Emma Cavendish, who was on the lookout for Jerome, was surprised and +delighted to see her lover ride up first, attended by her messenger. + +"It's witchcraf', Miss Emmer!" exclaimed Jerome, as he got out of his +saddle to take the young gentleman's horse. + +"It is a coincidence," laughed Alden, as he ran up the steps to greet +his beloved. + +"Well, dat's de Latin for witchcraf', Miss Emmer; but it's all de same +t'ing in English," persisted Jerome, as he led away the horses. + +"Jerome tells me that grandma is not well. I am sorry to hear it," said +Alden, as he walked with Emma into the house. + +"Grandma is nearly ninety years old, and she can not ever be well in +this world; but she will soon be very well indeed, for she is very near +her eternal youth and health," said Emma, with tender, cheerful +earnestness. + +Alden bowed in silence as they entered the drawing-room together. + +"Grandma told me to telegraph for you to come down at once, Alden. She +thinks that she can not be here many days, and perhaps not many hours. +And she wishes to see you at once. Will you go to her now, dear, or +would you rather go to your room first?" + +"I will go to see madam first. I have but ridden from the Reindeer this +morning, and so I am neither fatigued nor dusted. I telegraphed you +yesterday that I was coming down to see you to-day, and my telegram +should have reached you yesterday; but it seems to have been delayed. I +left the city by the noon train and reached the village at midnight. So +I happened to meet Jerome just after he had taken my delayed telegram +from the agent, which he supposed to be a magical answer to your +message." + +"The whole arrangements of telegraph wires, steam engines, gas-lights +and lucifer matches are magical to him," said Emma, smiling. "And now +stay here a moment, dear, and wait until I go and let grandma know that +you have come," she added, as she went out of the room. + +Emma Cavendish found the old lady sitting up in her easy-chair by the +sunny window, looking very white and fragile and serene. + +"Alden has come, grandma, dear. When Jerome went to send the telegram +off for him he found Mr. Lytton in Wendover. Mr. Lytton had just arrived +from Richmond and was about to start for Blue Cliffs. It was a +coincidence," said Emma, sitting down by the old lady. + +"It was a providence, my dear child--a providence which has saved two +days in time that is very short. And so he is here?" said the old lady, +caressing the golden hair of the girl. + +"Yes, dear grandma, he is here and waiting to come to you the moment you +are ready to receive him." + +"Tell him to come now. And do you come with him." + +Emma left the room, and soon returned with Alden Lytton. + +"Welcome, my son! Come here and embrace me," said the old lady, holding +out her arms. + +Alden went and folded the faded form to his bosom and pressed a kiss +upon the venerable brow, as the tears sprang to his eyes; for he saw +that she was dying. + +"Alden, I am going home. I must go. I want to go. I have been here so +long. I am very tired. I have had enough of this. I want to go home to +my Father. I want to see my Savior face to face. I want to meet my +husband and my children, who have been waiting for me so long on the +other side. What are you crying for, Emma?" + +"Because I can not help it, grandma. I know I ought not to cry, when you +will soon be so happy," sobbed the poor child. + +"And when I am going to make you and your worthy young lover so happy, +my love. Come, wipe your eyes and smile! I shall soon be very happy, and +I want to make you and Alden as happy as I can before I go. Now sit +down, both of you, and listen to me." + +Alden and Emma sat down, one on each side of her. + +She was a little tired with the words she had already spoken, and she +put a small vial of ammonia to her nose and smelled it before she went +on. + +"Now," she said, as she put aside the vial and gave a hand to each of +the young people, "I want you to attend to me and do exactly as I bid +you." + +"We will indeed," answered Alden and Emma, in a breath. + +"I wish you would be married here in my presence tomorrow morning." + +Alden Lytton gave her hand a grateful squeeze. + +"You should be married to-day, if there were time to make the necessary +arrangements." + +"Are there any really necessary arrangements that can not be made +to-day?" Alden inquired, eagerly. + +"Yes, my son. A messenger must take a letter to Lytton Lodge to explain +the circumstances, and to ask your sister Laura and your aunt and uncle +Lytton to come immediately, to be present at your marriage with my +granddaughter. If the messenger to Lytton Lodge should start at noon +to-day, as he must, he will hardly reach the Lodge before night. Nor +will your relatives be able to reach here before noon tomorrow. So you +see the necessity of the short delay." + +"Yes, certainly," answered Alden. + +"Another messenger must take a similar letter to Beresford Manors, to +summon my son and my youngest granddaughter, and your worthy guardian, +Mr. Brent, who is on a long visit there. And it will also take about +twenty-four hours to bring them here." + +"Yes, of course," admitted Alden. + +"I say nothing of the time it will take to get a license and to fetch +Mr. Lyle, who must perform the ceremony, because that can be done in a +few hours." + +"If it were possible, I would like to have Mary Grey summoned by +telegraph to attend the wedding," said Emma. + +"Ah, yes, certainly she ought to be here; but there is scarcely a +chance, the time is so short," said Mrs. Cavendish, as she again +resorted to the vial of ammonia. + +"Mrs. Grey is in very bad health. She would not come," explained Alden. + +"Go, now, my dear children. I am very tired, and I must sleep a while," +sighed the old lady. + +And Emma and Alden kissed her and left the room. + +In the passage outside they met Mrs. Fanning, who seemed to be waiting +for them. + +She cordially welcomed Mr. Lytton, of whose arrival she had heard from +the servants. And then she inquired of Emma how Mrs. Cavendish was +getting on. + +"She grows weaker in the body and stronger in the spirit with every +successive hour, I think," replied Miss Cavendish. + +"Well, my dear, I only wished to ask you that, and to tell you that I +have had lunch laid in the little breakfast room, if Mr. Lytton would +like any," said Mrs. Fanning, who now took equal share in all Emma's +housekeeping cares. + +But Alden, when appealed to, declined the lunch and hinted that they had +better see to sending off the messengers to Beresford Manors and Lytton +Lodge immediately. + +And that same noon the letters were dispatched. + +Alden Lytton had come down to Blue Cliffs for the purpose of confiding +to Emma Cavendish the story of his first boyish passion for Mary Grey, +and of the violent manner in which it was cured forever. But finding all +the circumstances so opposite to what he expected to find them, he +changed his purpose. He could not bring himself to add another item to +the disturbing influences then surrounding Emma. + +That afternoon, also, Dr. Willet came to Blue Cliffs, and Emma had to +accompany him to the bedside of her grandmother, and afterward to hold +quite a long conversation with him in the library. + +A few minutes after the doctor left the house, Mr. Lyle, who had heard +of the illness of Mrs. Cavendish, arrived to inquire after her +condition. + +Emma had to receive the minister and accompany him to her grandmother's +chamber, and to stay there and join in the prayers that were offered for +the sick woman. + +Mr. Lyle remained with the family all the afternoon; and having received +from Mr. Lytton a notice of the ceremony he was desired to perform the +next day, he promised to be at Blue Cliff Hall again punctually at noon, +and then took leave. + +Very early the next morning Alden Lytton mounted the swiftest horse in +the Cavendish stables and rode to Wendover to procure his marriage +license. + +He did not stay long in the village, you may be sure; but, leaving his +horse to rest and drink at the Reindeer trough, he hurried to the +town-hall and took out his license, returned to the inn, remounted his +horse, and rode immediately back to Blue Cliff Hall. + +As he rode up the avenue toward the front of the house he saw that there +had already been some arrival. A large lumbering old family carriage +was being driven, empty, around toward the stables. + +Alden quickened his horse's pace and rode up to the door, dismounted, +threw his reins to Peter, the young groom, who was waiting to take the +horse, and then ran up the steps into the house. + +He almost immediately found himself in the arms of his sister Laura, who +had run out to receive him. + +"Oh, Alden, my darling, I am so delighted! I wish you so much joy!" she +exclaimed. + +"Only the occasion that has hastened my happiness is a sad one to +others, Laura, my dear," answered the young man, gravely. + +"I don't think so at all. I have seen Mrs. Cavendish. I never saw a +happier woman. She is so happy that she wishes to make everybody else as +happy as she is herself," said Laura. + +As she spoke John Lytton came lumbering into the hall. + +"Alden, boy, how do? I never was so astonished in my life! But under the +circumstances I hope that it is all right to hurry up things in this +a-way. Your Aunt Kitty couldn't come; nyther could your grandmother nor +the gals. Fact is, they hadn't the gownds to appear in. But they wish +you joy; and so do I. For, though I do think you might a-looked higher, +because the Lyttonses is a much older family than the Caverndishers, +and, in fact, were lords of the manor when the Caverndishers were +hewers--" + +"Uncle John," broke in Alden, with a laugh, "pray let that subject drop +for the present! And follow Jerome, who is waiting to show you a room +where you can brush your coat and smooth your hair, and--" + +"Make myself tidy for the wedding? All right, my boy! March on, Jerome!" +said John Lytton, good-humoredly, as he followed his guide upstairs. + +As he disappeared another carriage rolled up to the front door, and Dr. +Beresford Jones, Electra and Mr. Joseph Brent--Victor Hartman--alighted +from it and entered the house. + +Alden and Laura Lytton stepped forward to receive them. + +Electra seized and kissed Laura in a hurry, while the gentlemen were +shaking hands, and then she flew to Alden and congratulated him with +much effusion. + +"Now, Laura, take me where I can change my dress quickly. I brought a +white India muslin with me to wear, for I am to be bride-maid, of +course! So are you, I suppose. But you haven't changed your dress yet. +Where is Emma? What is she going to be married in?" + +"Be quiet, you little Bohemian!" said Laura, cutting short Electra's +torrent of words. "Don't you feel that this is no ordinary wedding? The +occasion, if not a sorrowful one, is at least very serious. Come, I will +take you with me to my own room. We are to lodge together in the +south-west room, as usual." + +"But are you to be a bride-maid?" persisted the "little Bohemian." + +"Yes; and to wear my white tarletan dress and white rose wreath," +answered Laura, as they went off together. + +"Where's Emma, and what's she doing? as I asked you some time ago." + +"She is in her chamber, dressing for the ceremony." + +"She hasn't got her wedding-dress made yet; that I know. What's she +going to be married in?" + +"She will wear her white satin trained dress, with white lace overdress, +which she had made for the last May ball, you remember." + +"Oh, yes! I didn't think of that." + +"And she will wear that rich, priceless cardinal point-lace veil that +was her mother's. And she will wear her grandmother's rare oriental +pearls. There, you little gipsy! Are you answered?" + +"Yes. And she will be magnificent and splendid, even if she is gotten up +in a hurry," said Electra, as she followed her companion into their +room. + +Alden Lytton, under the unusual circumstances attending the sudden +wedding, and in the surprise of his own unexpected happiness, had not +once thought of the necessity of making a proper toilet for the +occasion. But when he heard the girls, who never, under any +circumstances, forget such a matter, talking of their dress, he glanced +down at his own suit, and then hurried off as fast as he could to his +room to improve his appearance. + +While the younger members of the family party were at their toilets, Dr. +Beresford Jones was in the "Throne Room," closeted with his mother. + +Madam Cavendish, weak as she was, had insisted upon being arrayed +grandly, to do honor to the wedding of the only daughter of the house. + +She wore a rich crimson brocade dressing-gown, a costly camel's-hair +shawl, and a fine point-lace cap. She now reclined very wearily in her +easy-chair, and held in her hand the vial of ammonia, which she applied +to her nose from time to time. + +After a little while she said to her son: + +"Go and inquire if they are nearly ready, Beresford. I fear--I fear my +strength will scarcely hold out," she faltered, faintly. + +Dr. Jones opened the door to go upon this errand, and immediately +perceived that it was unnecessary. + +John Lytton and Mr. Lyle were coming up the stairs, and the little +bridal procession was forming in the hall below. + +Mr. Lyle came in and spoke to Dr. Jones. + +"With Mrs. Cavendish's permission, even now, at the last moment, we must +make some slight changes in the programme," he said. + +"Well?" inquired Dr. Jones, pleasantly. + +"I was to have performed the ceremony and you were to have given the +bride away?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, we must change that. Mr. Lytton has but one groomsman. I must act +in that capacity also. You will please perform the ceremony, and Mr. +John Lytton here will have the honor of giving the bride away." + +John Lytton bowed. + +"I am quite willing. I will speak to Mrs. Cavendish," said Dr. Jones, +who went to his mother's chair and explained the situation to her. + +"Certainly; be it as you will," she said. + +Mr. Lyle then returned to the foot of the stairs and placed himself +beside Laura Lytton, who was acting as first bride-maid. + +John Lytton and Dr. Jones remained in the room. + +The little bridal procession soon entered and ranged themselves in order +before the minister. + +Emma, as Electra had said, looked beautiful as a woman and elegant as a +bride. Her bride-maids also were very fair to see. + +The ceremony was commenced with great impressiveness. + +Old Mrs. Cavendish listened with the deepest attention, leaning back in +her easy-chair and sniffing at her bottle of ammonia. + +John Lytton gave away the bride as if he were making a magnificent +present at his own expense. + +Emma Cavendish not only wore her mother's bridal veil, but was married +with her mother's wedding-ring. + +Dr. Beresford Jones pronounced the benediction. + +And Alden Lytton and Emma Cavendish were made one in law, as they had +long been in mind and heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +AFTER THE HOLY WEDDING. + + The bride rose from her knee + And she kissed the lips of her mother dead + Or ever she kissed me. + --E. B. BROWNING. + + +The benediction was scarcely spoken before the fair bride left her +bridegroom's side and moved softly and swiftly to the side of the +easy-chair, where the form of her ancestress lay reclining. + +All eyes followed her strange action, as she knelt beside the chair and +took the wasted hand of its occupant in her own. And some saw what Emma +had been the first to discover--that the happy spirit of the aged lady +was even then departing. + +She spoke no word more, but slowly raising her hand she laid it gently, +as in silent blessing, on the bowed head of her young descendant, and +so, with a radiant smile, passed away heavenward. + +"She's dropped asleep, my dear," said honest, stupid John Lytton, +bending over to look at the closed eyes and peaceful face. + +"She has fainted. This has been too much for her," said Mrs. Fanning, +catching up the vial of ammonia and coming with the intention of +administering it. + +"She is neither sleeping nor swooning. She has risen," said Emma. + +And, calmly putting aside the useless drug, she arose and reverently +pressed a kiss upon the lifeless lips. + +A moment of deep silence followed her words. + +Then Dr. Jones, the son, himself an aged man, drew near and tenderly +took up the lifeless hand and looked into the motionless face, and with +a profound sigh turned away. + +While this group was still gathered around the chair of death, the door +was silently opened and the family physician entered the room and stood +among them. + +"She is gone, Doctor Willet," said the son, turning to greet the +new-comer. + +The physician nodded gravely to the sorrowing speaker, bowed to the +assembled friends, and passed through them, as they made way for him to +approach the body. He felt the wrist, where there was no pulse, looked +into the eyes, where there was no light, and then, with a grave and +silent nod, he confirmed the opinion of Dr. Jones. + +Electra, who had been incredulous all this time about the reality of the +death, and was anxiously watching the face of the physician, now burst +into violent weeping, and had to be led from the room by Joseph +Brent--Victor Hartman. + +Emma stood, pale as marble, with her eyes cast down, her lips lightly +pressed together, and her hands closely clasped. + +"Take your young bride away also, Mr. Lytton. She is exerting great +self-command now; but she can not much longer control her feelings," +said Dr. Willet. + +"Come, love," whispered the bridegroom, as he passed his arm gently +around the waist of the now weeping girl and drew her away from the +scene of death. + +Mr. John Lytton followed them out, with the half-frightened air of a +culprit stealing away from detection. + +There now remained in the room of death the aged son, Dr. Beresford +Jones, the family physician, Dr. Willet, the minister of the parish, the +Rev. Mr. Lyle, and the two ladies, Mrs. Fanning and Laura Lytton. + +"She passed away very gently, without the least suffering," said Mrs. +Fanning. + +"I thought she would do so. Hers has been a really physiological death, +of ripe and pure old age," answered the doctor. + +After a little more conversation the gentlemen withdrew, leaving the +remains to the care of the two ladies, while they went to commence +arrangements for the funeral. + +Four days after this the body of Mrs. Cavendish was laid in the family +vault, beside those of her husband and her son, the late governor. + +The old lady had been long and widely known, and deeply and sincerely +loved and honored, and her funeral was as largely attended as had been +that of her son, some years before. After these solemn offices had all +been performed the friends assembled to consult and make arrangements +for the temporary disposition of the family left behind. + +It was settled that Mrs. Fanning should remain at Blue Cliff Hall, in +charge of the establishment, with Laura Lytton as her guest and +companion. + +Dr. Jones and Electra would, of course, return to Beresford Manors. They +would be accompanied by Mr. Joseph Brent--Victor Hartman--who had grown +to be a great favorite with the aged doctor, and in truth almost +indispensable to his comfort and entertainment. + +Mr. Lyle went back to the duties of his ministry at Wendover. + +And finally, as there was now a vacation of the courts, and the young +barrister was temporarily at liberty, Alden Lytton decided to take his +young bride to Europe for their bridal tour. + +On their way to New York they stopped for a day in Richmond, because +Emma wished to see her old "friend," Mrs. Grey, before leaving for +Europe. + +Alden Lytton, though he felt persuaded in his own mind that Mrs. Grey +would not receive them, yet promptly complied with his fair bride's +wish. + +So, the morning after their arrival at the Henrico House, in Richmond, +Alden took a carriage and they drove to the old Crane Manor House and +inquired for Mrs. Grey. + +But, as Alden had foreseen, they received for an answer that Mrs. Grey +was not at home. + +Upon further inquiry they were told that she had left the city on +business and would not return for a week. + +And Alden Lytton rightly conjectured that she had gone away, and was +staying away, for the one purpose of avoiding Emma and himself. + +So the young bride, with a sigh, reluctantly resigned all hope of seeing +her unworthy "friend" before sailing for Europe. + +Early the next morning the newly-married pair took the steamboat for +Washington, where in due time they safely arrived, and whence they took +the train for the North. + +They reached New York on Thursday night, had one intervening day to see +something of the city and to make some few last purchases for their +voyage, and on Saturday at noon they embarked on the magnificent ocean +steamship "Pekin," bound from New York to Southampton. + +We must leave them on board their ship, and return and look up Mary +Grey. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +MARY GREY'S MYSTERY. + + +After Mrs. Grey's last interview with Alden Lytton, during which, partly +because she lost her self-command and partly because she did not care +longer to conceal her feelings, she had thrown off her mask, she sat +down to review the situation. + +"Well, I have betrayed myself," she mused. "I have let him see how I +really feel about this marriage engagement between him and Emma +Cavendish. He knows now how I loved him; if he has eyes in his head he +sees now how I hate him. + +"All right. I have now no further reason to deceive him. He has served +my utmost purpose for his own and her own destruction. I no longer need +his unconscious co-operation. I have his honor and his liberty, and her +reputation and peace, in my power and at my mercy. + +"And I have done all this myself, without the voluntary help of any +human being. I have used men as the mechanic uses tools, making them do +his work, or as the potter uses clay, molding it to his purpose. + +"Let him marry Emma Cavendish. I can part them at any moment afterward +and throw them into a felon's prison, and cast her down from her proud +place into misery and degradation. + +"I _could_ stop their marriage now, or at the altar. But I will not do +that; for to do that would be only to disappoint or grieve them. But my +vengeance must strike a deeper blow. It must degrade and ruin them. I +will wait until they have been married some time. Then, in the hour of +their fancied security, I will come down upon them like an avalanche of +destruction." + +In the feverish excitement of anticipating this fiendish consummation of +her revenge she almost forgot her heinous crime, and ceased to be +haunted by the hideous specter of her murdered lover. + +It was on the fifteenth of the month, when she happened to take up the +morning paper. + +She turned first--as she always did--to the column containing notices of +marriages and deaths. + +And her face grew wild and white as she read: + + MARRIED.--On the morning of the 10th instant, at Blue + Cliff Hall, Virginia, the seat of the bride, by the + Rev. Dr. Beresford Jones, Mr. Alden Lytton, of + Richmond, to Miss Emma Angela, only daughter of the + late Charles Cavendish, Governor of Virginia. + +She read no further that day. There were other marriages following this; +but she felt no curiosity now about them. And there was a formidable row +of death notices, headed by the obituary of Mrs. Cavendish, but she did +not even see it. + +The announcement of the marriage had taken her by surprise. She had not +expected to see it for a month yet to come. And, as she did not observe +the notice of Mrs. Cavendish's death, she could not understand why the +marriage had been hastened by so many weeks. + +"So it is over," she said. "It is over, and it has been over for five +days. They are in the midst of their happiness, enjoyed at the expense +of my misery. Theirs is a fool's paradise from which I could eject them +at any moment; but I will not--not just yet. The longer I suspend the +blow the heavier it will fall at last. They will carry out their +programme, I presume; so far, at least, as to go upon their bridal trip +to Europe. I could stop them on the eve of their voyage; but I will not. +I will let them go and return, and hold their wedding-reception, and +then, in the midst of their joy and triumph, in the presence of their +admiring friends--" + +She paused to gloat with demoniac enjoyment over the picture her wicked +imagination had conjured up. + +--"Then I will turn all their joy to despair, all their triumph to +humiliation, all their glory to shame! And I will do all this +alone--alone, or use others only as my blind tools. + +"Of course they will take this city on their way to New York to embark +for Europe. And they will call on me to show me their happiness, and +take a keener relish of it from seeing the contrast of my misery. But +they shall be disappointed in that, at least. I will not be dragged at +the wheels of their triumphal car. I will not stay here to receive them. +I will leave town, and stay out of it until I am sure that they have +passed through and left it." + +She kept her word. + +She went down to Forestville, ostensibly to relieve a poor family +suffering under an accumulation of afflictions, but really to be out of +the way of the bridal pair, and to get up evidence in the case she +intended to bring against the husband of Emma Cavendish. + +When she had been but a few days at Forestville she received a letter +from Miss Romania Crane--who in her absence kept up a sentimental +correspondence with her--informing her of the visit of Mr. and Mrs. +Alden Lytton, the bride and bridegroom from Blue Cliffs, who stopped for +a day in the city on their way to New York. + +Immediately on her receipt of this letter she returned to Richmond and +to the house of the Misses Crane. + +And she very much surprised and shocked these ladies by assuming an air +of grief and distraction as extreme in itself as it was unaccountable to +them. + +They could not even imagine what was the matter with her. She refused to +give any explanation of her apparent mental anguish, and she repelled +all sympathy. + +The Misses Crane were afraid she was going to lose her reason. + +They went to see the minister and the minister's wife on the subject. +They found only the lady at home. And to her they stated the mysterious +case. + +"There is something very heavy on her mind, my dear. I am sure there is +something awful on her mind." + +"There has been this long time, I think," said the minister's wife. + +"Yes, I know; but it is a thousand times worse now. My dear, she keeps +her room nearly all day. She never comes to the table. If I send her +meals up to her they come back almost untasted. And I assure you she +does not sleep any better than she eats. Her room is over mine, and so I +can hear her walking the floor half the night," said Miss Romania Crane. + +"What can be the cause of her distress?" inquired the rector's lady. + +"I don't know. I can't get her to tell me. She only says that 'her life +is wrecked forever, and that she wishes only to be left to herself until +death shall relieve her.' And all that sort of talk," said Miss Romania. + +"And have you no suspicion?" + +"None in the world that seems at all rational. The only one I have seems +foolish." + +"But what is it?" + +"Well, I sometimes think--but indeed it is a silly thought--that her +distress is in some way connected with the marriage of Mr. Lytton and +Miss Cavendish, for I notice that every time the name of either of them +is mentioned she grows so much worse that I and my sister have ceased +ever to speak of them." + +"It can not be that she was ever in love with Mr. Lytton," suggested the +minister's lady. + +"I should think not. I should think she was not that weak-minded sort of +woman to give way to such sentiment, much less to be made so extremely +wretched by it. For I do tell you, my dear, her state is simply that of +the utmost mental wretchedness." + +"I will ask my husband to go to her. He is her pastor, and may be able +to do her some good," said the minister's wife. + +"Do, my dear, and come to see her yourself," said Miss Romania, as she +and her sister arose to take leave. + +Now you know all this distress was just "put on" by Mrs. Grey, to give +coloring and plausibility to her future proceedings. + +To be sure she kept her room, but it was not to grieve in secret: it was +to excite the compassion and wonder of her sympathizing friends, while +she laid her plans, drank French cordials, and feasted privately on the +delicacies of the season, which she would secretly bring in, or dozed on +her sofa and dreamed of her coming sweet revenge. + +Certainly, instead of going to bed at a decent hour, she would walk the +floor of her chamber half the night. But this was not done because she +was suffering, or sleepless from grief, but for the purpose of keeping +poor Miss Crane awake all night in the room below and making the poor +lady believe that she, Mary Grey, was breaking her own heart in these +vigils. + +And for her want of nightly rest Mary Grey compensated herself by dozing +half the day on her sofa; and for her want of regular meals she made up +by slipping out occasionally and feasting at some "ladies' restaurant." + +But her object was effected. She impressed everybody who came near her +with the belief that she had suffered some awful wrong or bereavement of +which she could not speak, but which threatened to unseat her reason or +end her life. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +MARY GREY'S STORY. + + +At length her minister came to see her. He expressed the deepest +sympathy with her sufferings, and implored her to relieve her +overburdened heart by confiding in him or in his wife, from either or +both of whom, he assured her, she should receive respectful compassion +and substantial assistance, if the last was necessary. + +Then, pretending to yield to his better judgment, she consented to give +him her confidence. + +And taking him up to her own sitting-room, where they could be safe from +interruption, she bound him over to secrecy, and then, with many +affected tears and moans, she told him the astounding story that she had +long been privately married to Mr. Alden Lytton, who had deserted her +within a few days after their wedding, and who had recently, as every +one knew, united himself in matrimony with Miss Emma Cavendish, of Blue +Cliffs, Virginia, and had gone with her on a wedding trip to Europe. + +While she told him this stupendous tale, the minister sat with open +mouth and eyes, gazing on her with more of the air of an idiot than of a +learned and accomplished gentleman. + +He was, in fact, utterly amazed and confounded by the story he had +heard. + +That Alden Lytton, a young man of the highest social position, of +unblemished reputation from his youth up, an accomplished scholar, a +learned jurist, an eloquent barrister, and, more than all, a Christian +gentleman, should have been guilty of the base treachery and the +degrading crime here charged upon him was just simply incredible--no +more nor less than incredible. + +Or that Mary Grey, the loveliest lady of his congregation, should be +capable of a malicious fabrication was utterly impossible. + +There was then but one way out of the dilemma: Mary Grey was insane and +suffering under a distressing hallucination that took this form. + +So said the look of consternation and pity that the minister fixed upon +the speaker's face. + +"I see that you discredit my story, and doubt even my sanity. But here +is something that you can neither doubt nor discredit," she said, as she +drew from her pocket the marriage certificate and placed it in his +hands. + +The minister opened and read it. And as he read this evidence of a +"Christian gentleman's" base perfidy the look of consternation and +amazement that had held possession of his countenance gave place to one +of disgust and abhorrence. + +"Do you doubt _now_?" meaningly inquired Mary Grey. + +"Ah, no, I can not doubt now! I wish to Heaven I could! I would rather, +my child, believe you to be under the influence of a distressing +hallucination than know this man to be the consummate villain this +certificate proves him to be. I can not doubt the certificate. I wish I +could; but I know this Reverend Mr. Borden. On my holiday trips North I +have sometimes stopped at his house and filled his pulpit. I am familiar +with his handwriting. I can not doubt," groaned the minister. + +Mary Grey dropped her hands and pretended to sob aloud. + +"Do not weep so much, poor child! Deeply wronged as you have been by +this ruthless sinner you have not been so awfully injured as has been +this most unhappy young lady, Miss Cavendish, whom he has deceived to +her destruction," said the minister. + +"And do you not suppose that I grieve for _her_ too?" sobbed Mary Grey. + +"Ah, yes, I am sure your tender, generous heart, wronged and broken as +it is, has still the power left to grieve for her as well as for +yourself." + +"But what is my duty? Ah, what is my duty in this supreme trial? I can +not save my life or hers from utter wreck, but I can do my duty, and I +will do it, if only it is pointed out to me. Oh, sir, point it out to +me!" cried the hypocrite, clasping her hands with a look of sincerity +that might have deceived a London detective. + +"My dear, can you possibly be in doubt as to what your duty is?" +sorrowfully inquired the minister. + +"Oh, my mind is all confused by this terrible event! I can not judge +rationally. Ought I to keep silence and go away to some remote place and +live in obscurity, dead to the world, so as never even by chance to +interfere with their happiness, or to bring trouble on Miss Cavendish? I +think, perhaps, he expects even that much from my devotion to him. Or +ought I not to make way with myself altogether, for her sake? Would not +a courageous suicide be justifiable, and even meritorious, under such, +trying circumstances?" + +"My child--my child, how wildly and sinfully you talk! Your brain is +certainly touched by your troubles. You must not dream of doing any of +the dreadful things you have mentioned. Your duty lies plainly before +you. Will you have the courage to do it, if I point it out to you?" + +"Oh, yes, I will--I will! It is all that is left me to do." + +"Then your duty is to lodge information against that wretched man, so +that he shall be arrested the moment he sets foot in the State." + +"Oh, heaven of heavens! And ruin Emma Cavendish!" exclaimed the +traitress, in well-simulated horror. + +"And save Emma Cavendish from a life of involuntary degradation and +misery. You must do this. To-morrow I will introduce you to a young +lawyer of distinguished ability, who will give you legal advice even as +I have given you religious counsel. And we will both confer together, so +as to save you as much as possible from all painful share in the +prosecution of this man." + +"It is _all_ painful; all agonizing! But I think you and I will not +shrink from our duty. Oh, could you ever have believed, without such +proof as I have given you, that Mr. Alden Lytton could ever have been +guilty of this crime?" + +"Never! Never! And yet I know that men of exalted character have +sometimes fallen very deeply into sin. Even David, 'the man after God's +own heart,' took the wife of his devoted friend, and betrayed this +faithful friend to a cruel death! Why should we wonder, then, at any +man's fall? But, my child, I must ask you a question that I have been +waiting to ask you all this time. Why did you not interfere to stop this +felonious marriage before it took place? What timidity, what weakness, +or what pride was it that restrained your hand from acting in time to +prevent this fearful crime of Mr. Lytton, this awful wrong to Miss +Cavendish, from being consummated?" gravely and sadly inquired the +minister. + +"Oh, sir, how can you ask me such a question? Do you suppose that if I +had had the remotest suspicion of what was going on I should not have +interfered and prevented it at all hazards--yes, even at the sacrifice +of my own life, if that had been necessary?" + +"You did not know of this beforehand then?" + +"Why, certainly not!" + +"Nor suspect it?" + +"Assuredly not! I had not the least knowledge nor the faintest suspicion +that anything of the sort was contemplated by Mr. Lytton until after it +was all over. The first I heard of it was from the Misses Crane, who +wrote me at Forestville that Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton, the bride and +bridegroom from Blue Cliffs, had called on me during my absence. The +news, when it was confirmed, nearly killed me. But think of the insanity +of their calling on me! But I know that was Emma's wish. And I feel sure +that Mr. Lytton must have known of my absence from town or he never +would have ventured to bring his deceived bride into my home." + +"No, indeed; probably not. Well, my poor child, I have shown you your +painful duty. See that you do not falter in it," said the rector, as he +rose to take leave. + +"I will not," answered Mary Grey. + +"I will call at ten o'clock to-morrow morning to take you to Mr. +Desmond's office." + +"I will be ready." + +And the minister took his leave. + +Punctual to his appointment, the next morning at ten o'clock the rector +called for Mary Grey and took her in his own carriage to the office of +Philip Desmond, one of the most talented among the rising young +barristers of Richmond. + +Mr. Desmond enjoyed a high reputation not only as a professional man but +as a private gentleman. + +But he was the professional rival and the political opponent of Mr. +Alden Lytton. They were always engaged on opposite sides of the same +case; and on several important occasions Alden Lytton had gained a +triumph over Philip Desmond. + +He was, therefore, more astonished than grieved when the rector, after +introducing Mary Grey under the name of Mrs. Alden Lytton, proceeded to +confide to him, under the seal of temporary secrecy, the stupendous +story of Alden Lytton's double marriage. + +He expressed much amazement at the double treachery of the man, deep +sympathy with the sorrows of the suffering and forsaken wife, and great +indignation at the wrongs of the deceived and unhappy young lady. + +He readily promised to co-operate with the minister in having the +culprit brought speedily to justice. + +"You, madam, of course, as his wife, can take no active part in the +prosecution of this man. You can not even give testimony against him +with your own voice. But you must appear in court, to be identified by +the rector, the sexton and others who witnessed your marriage," said the +lawyer, in taking leave of his visitors. + +The rector took Mrs. Grey back to her boarding-house, and while she was +gone upstairs to lay off her bonnet and shawl he told the Misses Crane +that their interesting boarder had confided her trouble to him; that she +had suffered the deepest wrong that any woman could be doomed to bear; +but he could not explain more then; they would know all about it in a +short time, when the wrongdoer should be brought to justice. + +And having thus mystified the poor ladies, he further recommended Mary +Grey to their tenderest sympathy and care. + +And so he went home, leaving them in a state of greater bewilderment +than ever. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +ABOUT BLUE CLIFFS. + + +Before Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton had left Blue Cliff Hall they had made +arrangements for the complete renovation of that old ancestral seat, to +be carried on under the supervision of the Rev. Mr. Lyle. + +And they expressed their intention to purchase and send furniture from +London and Paris to refit it. + +But the works were scarcely commenced when they had to be suspended for +a few days. + +Another death had occurred in the family circle. + +Dr. Beresford Jones, after a very pleasant evening spent at Blue Cliff +Hall in company with Mrs. Fanning, Laura Lytton, his granddaughter, +Electra, and his great favorite, Mr. Joseph Brent, arose, saying: + +"I will now retire to bed, and I recommend you, Electra, my dear, to do +the same, as we have to rise early to-morrow morning to set out on our +return to Beresford Manors." + +And he kissed her good-night, bowed to the other members of the circle, +took up his taper and retired. + +The next morning he went away indeed, but not to Beresford Manors. + +For when Electra went into his room, as was her custom, to kiss him +good-morning before he should get up, she found nothing but his body, +still warm, and with the face still wearing the happy smile with which +his spirit had impressed it in taking his heavenward flight. + +Her screams desecrated the holy room of death and brought all the +household to her presence. + +When they discovered the cause of the girl's wild grief, Mrs. Fanning +and Laura Lytton together forced her from the room and took her to her +own chamber, where they set themselves to soothe her. + +Joseph Brent, himself overcome with grief at the sudden loss of one who +had proved himself so warm a friend, set out on horseback to Wendover to +fetch the family physician and the minister. + +They were useless to the departed, of course, but they might be of some +service to the bereaved ones left behind. + +So Mr. Lyle and Dr. Willet returned with Mr. Brent, and remained at Blue +Cliff Hall until after all was over. + +And thus it happened that within one fortnight there were two funerals +at Blue Cliffs. + +On the day after that upon which the remains of Beresford Jones were +laid in the family vault his will was opened and read to his relatives. + +With the exception of a few legacies left to friends and servants he +bequeathed the whole of his real estate and personal property +exclusively and unconditionally to his beloved granddaughter, Electra +Coroni. + +And he appointed his esteemed friends, Stephen Lyle and Joseph Brent, +joint executors of the will, trustees of his estate, and guardians of +his heiress. + +And to each of these executors he left a legacy of ten thousand dollars. + +Folded within the will was an informal letter addressed to his surviving +friends, and requesting that no mourning should be worn for him, no +wedding deferred, no innocent pleasure delayed on his account, for that +death was only a higher step in life, and that which to him would be a +great gain and glory must not seem to them a loss and gloom. + +Electra, with her gusty nature, wept vehemently during the reading of +this will and letter. + +But there was one present who, though he betrayed no emotion, was much +more deeply moved than any one present. This was Joseph Brent. + +In being appointed guardian, trustee and executor of the will, he had +just received from Dr. Beresford Jones the greatest proof of esteem and +confidence that any one man could receive from another. And when he +thought of this in connection with his own woful past he felt deeply +disturbed. + +After the reading of the will the assembled relatives dispersed from the +room, leaving the two executors to converse together. + +When Joseph Brent found himself alone with his friend Stephen Lyle he +gave way to his feelings and said: + +"My heart is full of compunction." + +"Why?" gravely inquired Mr. Lyle. + +"Because I should have confided in the dear old friend who put so much +trust in me. I should have told him my whole miserable past history. And +then, perhaps, he never would have given me so great a mark of his +esteem. And Heaven knows I fully intended to tell him before asking him +to accept me as a suitor of his granddaughter, even though it had cost +me the loss of her who is dearer to me than life. But I put off the +painful task, and now it is too late. And I feel as if I had obtained +the honors he has conferred upon me by a fraud. No less!" said Joseph +Brent, covering his face with his hands. + +"My brother, you are morbid on this subject. Certainly you intended to +tell him before asking to marry his granddaughter. And most certainly it +would have been right for you to do so, had he remained among us. But he +is gone. And you are free from blame. If you must tell any one tell the +girl you love, and who loves and trusts you, for it is now no one's +business but hers and yours. Or, rather, because you would never do +yourself justice, let me tell her how, once a poor, motherless boy, left +to himself, lost his way in the world and strayed even to the very brink +of perdition. And how nobly since that he has, by the grace of Heaven, +redeemed and consecrated his life. And then see if she will not place +her hand in yours for good and all." + +"You always comfort and strengthen me," said the young man, seizing and +wringing the hand of his friend. + +And then they consulted about the will of the late Dr. Jones, and the +arrangements to be made with his estates and the disposition to be made +of his heiress. + +"We are her guardians," said Mr. Lyle; "but neither you nor I, being +bachelors both, have a proper home to offer her. Nor will it be well for +her to live at Beresford Manors, with no one but her colored servants. +Mrs. Fanning has invited her to remain here for the present, and really +this house seems to be the best place for her just now. But, after all, +the decision must be left to herself, and she must choose her own home." + +Mr. Brent agreed perfectly with the views of Mr. Lyle. + +And later in the same afternoon they consulted the wishes of their young +ward, who emphatically declared in favor of Blue Cliff Hall as her +temporary home. + +The next morning Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent took leave of the ladies and +returned to Wendover, where the Californian again became the inmate of +the minister's home. + +But both gentlemen continued to be frequent visitors at Blue Cliff Hall. + +On the Monday following the funeral the work was recommenced on the old +mansion and went rapidly on--the three ladies, Mrs. Fanning, Laura +Lytton and Electra, moving from one part of the house to another as the +improvements progressed. + +Six weeks after this they received the first cargo of new furniture for +the drawing-rooms, which were ready for it. + +And as the work went on, from room to room, they received more furniture +to fit them up. + +At the end of three months the work was completed within and without. + +And the fine old mansion, thoroughly remodeled and refurnished, +presented as elegant and attractive an appearance as any modern palace +in the whole country. + +And then, when all was ready for the returning bride and bridegroom, +Mrs. Fanning received a letter from them informing her that on the +Saturday following the date of that letter they were to embark on board +the steamship "Amazon," bound from Liverpool to New York, and they +expected to be at Blue Cliffs two weeks from the day of embarkation. + +Yes, the happy young pair were on their way home, unconscious of the +horrible pitfall that had been dug to receive them! + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +WEDDINGS AND WEDDING RECEPTIONS. + + What do you think of marriage? + I take it as those who deny purgatory. + It locally contains or heaven or hell: + There is no third place in it. + --WEBSTER. + + +It was a beautiful day near the last of May, and the scenery all around +Blue Cliff Hall was glorious with sunshine, bloom and verdure. + +A happy party of friends was assembled at the Hall that day for a double +purpose--to meet the returning bridegroom and bride, who were expected +to arrive that evening, and to assist at their wedding reception, which +was to be further graced by two new bridals the next morning; for it had +been arranged by correspondence that Stephen Lyle and Laura Lytton and +Joseph Brent and Electra Coroni should be married on that occasion. + +All was ready: the house newly-restored, decorated and furnished, the +rooms aired and adorned with flowers, and the wedding-breakfast laid out +in the long dining-room. + +The supper-table for the returning travelers was set in the small +dining-room opening upon the garden of roses. + +Carriages had been sent from the Hall early that morning to meet the +travelers, who were expected to reach Wendover by the noon train from +Richmond and to come direct to the Hall, so as to arrive in time for an +early tea. + +On the delightful porch in front of the house, that commanded a view of +the carriage-drive and the forest road beyond, sat a pleasant group, +enjoying the magnificent sunset of that mountain region, and watching +the road or the first appearance of the carriage that was to bring home +their beloved young friends. + +This happy group was composed of Mrs. Fanning, Laura Lytton, Electra +Coroni, Stephen Lyle and Joseph Brent. + +"I hope they will arrive before the sun goes quite down. I should like +them to come home in the sunshine," said Laura Lytton, looking anxiously +at the glorious orb just then touching the horizon. + +No one answered. All were watching the setting sun and listening for the +sound of the carriage-wheels until a few moments had passed, and then +Electra said, with a sigh: + +"You will not get your wish then, for the sun is gone and they are not +come." + +"They are coming now, however. I hear the sound of their +carriage-wheels," said Joseph Brent. + +"Yes, indeed, for I see the carriage now," added Mr. Lyle, as the +traveling-coach rolled rapidly in sight of the whole party and turned +into the home drive. + +A few moments more and the carriage drew up before the house, and Alden +Lytton alighted and handed out his wife. + +Another moment and Alden was in the arms of his sister and Emma on the +bosom of Mrs. Fanning. + +Hearty greetings, warm embraces ensued, and then they held off to look +at each other. + +Emma was more beautiful and Alden handsomer than ever. + +"What a happy coming home!" said Emma, gratefully. "And you are all so +well! And you are all here except those who are in heaven. Stay! I think +_they_ also are here to meet us, though we do not see them! Come, let +us enter the house." + +"Let me show you to your rooms. No one shall be your 'groom of the +chambers,' Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton, but myself," said Laura, +playfully, as she led the way upstairs to the elegant apartments that +had been prepared for the young master and mistress of the house. + +"Come too, Electra. I do not wish to lose sight of you so soon, my +child," said Emma, kindly, as they went along. "Is everything arranged +satisfactorily to yourselves, my dears, and are you both ready to be +married at the same time to-morrow?" she inquired, addressing her two +companions. + +"Why, of course!" smiled Laura. + +Very early the next morning the whole household was happily astir. + +The youthful family met at an early breakfast in the little dining-room, +and then separated and went to their chambers to adorn themselves for +the bridals. + +A little later in the morning carriages containing guests bidden to the +wedding began to arrive. The guests were received first by accomplished +ushers, who took them to handsome and convenient dressing-rooms, in +which they could put the last perfecting touches on their toilets, after +which they were ushered into the long drawing-room, where they were +received by Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton. + +Emma was beautifully dressed for this occasion. She wore a rich white +satin, with a point-lace overskirt, looped up with white roses sprinkled +with small diamonds like dew. A wreath of the same flowers, bedewed in +the same way, rested on her rich golden hair. A diamond necklace and +bracelets adorned her bosom and arms. A delicate bouquet of white roses +was held in her hand. Dainty gloves, and so forth, of course completed +her toilet. + +The two brides were dressed exactly alike, in long-trained, rich white +silk dresses, with illusion overdresses and illusion veils, white +orange-blossom wreaths, pearl necklaces and bracelets, and dainty white +kid gloves, and carried delicate white lace handkerchiefs and white +bouquets. + +The bride-maids were all dressed in a uniform of white tarletan, +trained, with overdresses of the same, rose-colored sashes and bows, and +rose wreaths on their heads. + +The bridegrooms wore the regulation "invisible blue" swallow-tailed +coats and pantaloons, white satin vests, patent leather boots and kids. +The groomsmen were got up in precisely the same ridiculous--I mean +fashionable--style. + +Now, reader, did you ever see a double marriage ceremony performed? + +If not, I will tell you how this was done. + +The first bride and groom were Mr. Lyle and Miss Lytton. They stood in +the middle of the semicircle, immediately facing the bishop. The second +bride and groom, Mr. Brent and Miss Coroni, stood on each side of them, +Mr. Brent standing next to Mr. Lyle and Miss Coroni standing next to +Miss Lytton. The six bride-maids, of course, completed the semicircle on +the ladies' side and the six groomsmen on the gentlemen's. + +The opening exhortation was made and the opening prayers were offered +for both pairs together. + +Then the momentous questions were put and answered, and the marriage +vows were made, by each pair separately. + +Each bride was given away in turn by Alden Lytton. Finally the +concluding prayer was offered and the benediction pronounced upon both. + +It was over. + +Congratulations, tears, smiles and kisses followed. A half an hour in +pleasant chatter, in which every one talked and no one listened, +followed, and then the doors of the dining-room were thrown open and the +company was invited in to the breakfast. + +Three long tables stood parallel to each other, the whole length of the +room, leaving only space to pass around them. + +Each table was decorated with the most fragrant and beautiful flowers, +adorned with the most elegant plate, china and glass, and loaded with +every delicacy appropriate to the occasion. + +But the middle table was distinguished by the "wedding-cake" _par +excellence_--an elegant and beautiful piece of art, formed like a +Grecian temple of Hymen, erected upon a rock, adorned with beautiful +forms, birds, butterflies, flowers, and so forth. + +This middle table was also honored with the presence of the brides and +bridegrooms, with their attendants and immediate friends, and with that +of the officiating bishop. + +After the first course Mr. Lytton, who occupied a seat at the foot of +this table, arose in his place and made the usual little speech, and +proposed the health of both "happy pairs." + +This was drunk with enthusiasm. + +Then the health of the bride-maids was proposed and honored. + +Mr. Brent proposed their accomplished host and hostess. And this toast +was honored with an enthusiasm equal to that which had attended that of +the brides and bridegrooms. + +An hour, every moment of which was filled up with enjoyment, was spent +at the table, and then the beautiful hostess, Mrs. Alden Lytton, gave +the signal, and the ladies all arose and withdrew. + +The two brides, accompanied by Emma, went upstairs to their rooms to +change their bridal dresses for traveling-suits, for the two carriages +were already waiting at the gates to convey them to Wendover, whence +they were to take the train for Richmond, _en route_ for the North. + +They were soon dressed in their pretty suits of soft, dove-colored silk, +with hats and gloves of the same shade. + +They went down to the drawing-room, still accompanied by Emma. + +The gentlemen had just come in from the breakfast-table, and all the +guests were assembled there to see the happy pairs off on their bridal +tours. + +Emma had left the room for a few minutes to give some orders. + +Alden Lytton had just embraced his sister, and was holding the hand of +his brother-in-law, wishing him all manner of happiness and prosperity, +when the door opened and Jerome entered, saying: + +"There's a gemman out here wants to see Mr. Lytton most partic'lar." + +"Show him in," said Alden Lytton, smiling, and expecting to see some +guest who had come too late for the wedding. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +A TERRIBLE SUMMONS. + + You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting + With most admired disorder. + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +The servant left the room, and presently returned and ushered in a tall, +stout, gray-haired man, whom all present recognized as Mr. John Bowlen, +the deputy sheriff of the county. + +The new-comer bowed to the assembled company and walked straight up to +Alden Lytton, who advanced to meet him. + +"You are Mr. Alden Lytton, I presume?" said the deputy-sheriff. + +"Why, of course I am, Mr. Bowlen! You know that quite well, don't you?" +smiled Alden. + +"I thought I did; but I wished to be quite sure in a case like this. You +are my prisoner, Mr. Alden Lytton," said the deputy-sheriff, so calmly +and distinctly that every one in the room both heard and understood the +strange words. + +Yet no one uttered an exclamation of surprise. I think they were all too +much stunned for that. + +Alden Lytton simply stared in silent amazement at the officer, while +others, including the two bridegrooms, gathered around him. + +"What did you say just now? Perhaps I did not hear you aright," inquired +Alden, elevating his eyebrows, for there was something that struck him +as unreal, ludicrous and bordering upon the burlesque in the whole +situation. + +"I said that you were my prisoner, Mr. Alden Lytton," answered the +deputy-sheriff, gravely. "I repeat that you are my prisoner." + +"Prisoner!" echoed a score of voices, giving expression at length to +their amazement. + +"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he is my prisoner. I think I spoke plainly +enough; and I hope I shall have no trouble in making the arrest," +answered the deputy-sheriff, who, if he were not behaving very rudely, +was certainly not doing his duty very courteously. + +"Upon what charge, I pray you, am I to be arrested?" inquired Mr. +Lytton, sarcastically, still inclined to treat the whole matter as a +very bad practical joke. + +"You may read the warrant, sir," answered the officer, unfolding a +document and placing it in the hands of Alden Lytton, who, with some +anger and curiosity, but no anxiety, began to read it. + +"What is the matter? What does this person want here?" inquired Emma, in +surprise, as she entered the room, came up to the group and saw the +intruder. + +"He has some business with me, my love," answered her husband, +controlling himself with a great effort, as he read the shameful charges +embodied in the warrant commanding his arrest. Then, still speaking with +forced calmness, he said to the deputy-sheriff: + +"I will go with you first into the library, Mr. Bowlen, where we can +talk over this matter with my friends." + +And turning to the two bridegrooms he inquired: + +"Can you give me a few minutes with this officer in the library?" + +"Certainly," answered Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent, in one voice. + +"Ladies, you will excuse us for a few minutes?" inquired Mr. Lytton, +smiling around upon the group. + +"Certainly," answered two or three ladies, speaking for the whole party. + +"Follow me, if you please, gentlemen," said Alden Lytton, as he led the +way to the library. + +There the four men--Mr. Lytton, Mr. Lyle, Mr. Brent and the +sheriff--stood around a small table, all with anxious and some with +questioning looks. + +"Read that and tell me what you think of it," said Mr. Lytton, placing +the warrant for his arrest in the hands of Mr. Lyle. + +"Think of it? I think it at once the falsest, basest and most absurd +charge that ever was made against an honorable man!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle, +in righteous indignation, as he threw the document on the table. + +"It is all a diabolical conspiracy!" added Joseph Brent, who had read +the warrant over the shoulder of his friend. + +"It can not stand investigation for one moment," said Stephen Lyle. + +"And the wretches who got this up should be severely punished!" +exclaimed Joseph Brent. + +"Most severely!" added Stephen Lyle. + +"But what show of foundation could they have had for such a charge? The +warrant accuses you of having 'feloniously intermarried with one Emma +Angela Cavendish in and during the lifetime of your lawful wife, Mary +Lytton, now living in this State!' Now, who the very mischief is this +Mary who claims to be Lytton? Oh, Alden, my son, what _have_ you been up +to?" inquired Joseph Brent, half in mockery and half in real anxiety. + +"Whatever else I may have been 'up to,' I certainly never have been 'up +to' marrying two wives at one time," answered Alden, in the same spirit +of half banter, half protest. + +"But who is this Mary, self-styled Lytton?" + +"I know no more than the dead!" + +"But are you sure you never had a slight flirtation with, or a platonic +affinity for, a Mary or anybody else?" + +"Never! Nor do I even know a single 'Mary' in this world, except--" + +"Oh, yes!--except whom--except whom?" + +"Mrs. Mary Grey," answered Alden, gravely, and with a certain new +disturbance in his manner that had not been there before. + +Mr. Lyle brought his hand down upon the table with an emphatic thump. + +"That is the woman!" he said, with an air of entire conviction. "But +surely you never fell under her baleful spell?" + +"Ah, who that ever knew her has not fallen under that baleful spell? But +for the last two years I have been entirely disillusioned," answered +Alden. + +"Come, gentlemen, I am sorry to hurry you; but really," said Sheriff +Bowlen, taking out his watch, "it is now two o'clock, and we must get on +to Wendover." + +"Very well," answered Alden Lytton, coldly. Then turning to Mr. Brent +and Mr. Lyle he said: "And you, my friends, must be getting on, too, or +you will lose your train. And then what will become of your bridal +trips?" + +"I do not care what may become of _my_ bridal trip! I mean to see you +safe through this abominable conspiracy--for a conspiracy it certainly +is, whoever may be the conspirators!" said Joseph Brent, emphatically. + +"Pooh--pooh! Some very shallow piece of malice, or some very poor +practical joke upon me or the magistrate! The wonder is, however, that +any magistrate could be found to issue such a warrant as this," said +Alden Lytton, making light of a matter which he thought the slightest +investigation must soon set right. + +In the meantime Joseph Brent and Stephen Lyle spoke apart for a few +minutes, and then came to Alden Lytton and said: + +"Look here; we are going with you to the magistrate's office. We are +determined to see this matter through. It may be a trifle or it may +not." + +"And how about the two pretty girls who are waiting, with their hats on, +to be taken on their wedding tours?" + +"They can wait. A few hours, which must decide this, can make but little +difference to them. Your lovely lady will give them house-room to-day," +said Mr. Lyle. + +As Alden Lytton was about to reply, urging his friends not to delay +their journey on his account, he caught sight of Emma standing in the +hall, just outside the library door. + +Her face was pale with anguish, and her hands were clasped tightly +together, as she said: + +"Alden--Alden! Oh, Alden, come to me for one moment!" + +"Let me go and speak to my wife. I will not run away," said Mr. Lytton, +sarcastically, to the deputy, who was close upon his heels. + +And he went up to Emma and said, cheerfully: + +"Do not be alarmed, love; there is nothing to fear." + +"Oh, Alden, dearest, _what is it_? They are talking about a warrant and +an arrest in there. It is not true--oh, it can not be true!" said the +young wife, a little incoherently. + +"There is some mistake, my love, which would be simply ludicrous if it +were not so annoying. I must go to Wendover and set it all right," +replied Mr. Lytton, cheerfully. + +"Are you certain it is nothing more than a mistake?" + +"Nothing more than a mistake or a jest, dear love. But I must go to +Wendover to set it right." + +"But what sort of a mistake is it? What is it all about?" + +"I will explain it all when I come back, my wife. I do not quite +comprehend it yet." + +"How soon will you be back?" + +"As soon as ever this matter shall be explained--in time for tea, if +possible. Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent are going with me. You will take care +of the girls during the few hours' delay in their journey. There, love, +return to your guests and let me go. This officer is growing impatient." + +While Alden Lytton was trying to soothe the anxiety of his wife, Mr. +Brent and Mr. Lyle had crossed to the drawing-room to explain to their +brides that an unexpected event had occurred which would delay their +journey for a few hours, during which they would remain as the guests of +Mrs. Alden Lytton. + +And before the young ladies could make a comment the deputy-sheriff, +with Alden Lytton in custody, passed out. + +Then Stephen Lyle and Joseph Brent hurried out and entered the same +carriage occupied by Alden Lytton and the sheriff. + +During the drive to Wendover the three gentlemen tried to learn from the +sheriff more particulars concerning the charges made against Mr. Alden +Lytton. + +But the sheriff knew little or nothing concerning those charges beyond +what was embodied in the warrant that authorized the arrest. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +THE INVESTIGATION. + + One is my true and honorable wife, + As dear to me as are the ruddy drops + That visit my sad heart. + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +In due time they reached the village and were driven at once to the +office of the magistrate, Squire Estep, of Spring Hill Manor. + +No rumor of the arrest had got abroad, and no crowd was collected about +the office doors. + +The sheriff alighted first, and was followed out by the accused and his +two friends. + +They entered the office, where just then no one was present except the +magistrate, one clerk and two constables. + +The three gentlemen bowed as they entered, and the venerable magistrate +arose and acknowledged their presence by a nod and sat down again. + +The sheriff laid the warrant on the table before the magistrate and, +pointing to Mr. Alden Lytton, said: + +"That is the prisoner, your worship." + +One of the constables placed chairs, and the gentlemen seated themselves +and waited. + +"White," said Mr. Estep, addressing one of the constables, "go to the +Reindeer and serve this upon the gentleman to whom it is directed, and +whom you will find there." + +The constable took the slip of paper from the speaker's hand, bowed and +went out. + +And the three gentlemen waited with what patience they might command, +while the magistrate drummed upon the table with his fingers. + +Presently the constable returned, ushering in two persons, in one of +whom Alden Lytton recognized his great rival at the bar, Philip Desmond. +The other, an elderly gentleman in a clergyman's dress, was a total +stranger to him. + +Both these gentlemen bowed to the magistrate and to the accused and his +friends, and one of them--the clerical stranger--came up to Alden and, +to his great amazement, said: + +"I am very sorry, Mr. Lytton, in meeting you a second time, to see you +here in this position; sorrier still that I am here to bear testimony +against you." + +While he was saying this the magistrate, who was engaged in searching +among some documents, drew forth from them a paper which seemed to be a +memorandum, which he from time to time consulted, as he addressed the +accused and said: + +"You are Mr. Alden Lytton, attorney at law, of the Richmond bar, I +believe?" + +"I am," answered Alden Lytton. + +"Attend, if you please, to the reading of this," said the magistrate, as +he commenced and read out aloud the warrant upon which the accused had +been brought before him. + +At the conclusion of the reading Alden Lytton bowed gravely and waited. + +"Mr. Alden Lytton, you have heard that you are charged with having, on +the fifteenth of February of this present year, feloniously intermarried +with Emma Angela Cavendish, in and during the lifetime of your lawful +wife, Mary Lytton, now living in this State. Such marriage, under such +circumstances, being a felony, punishable with imprisonment and hard +labor in the State Penitentiary for a term not less than ---- or more +than ---- years. What have you to say to this charge?" inquired the +magistrate. + +Alden Lytton with some difficulty controlled his indignation as he +answered: + +"It is perfectly true that in last February I married Miss Cavendish, of +Blue Cliffs. But it is a false and malicious slander that I ever at any +time married any one else. It is only amazing to me, Mr. Magistrate, +that you should have issued a warrant charging me with so base a crime. +You could not possibly have had any grounds to justify such a +proceeding." + +"We shall see," answered, the magistrate. "You admit that you married +Miss Cavendish on the fifteenth of last February?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"Then nothing remains but to prove or to disprove the statement that at +the time of your marriage with Miss Cavendish, at Blue Cliffs, you had a +lawful wife then living in the city of Richmond." + +Alden Lytton flushed to the temples at hearing his true wife's pure and +noble name brought into this dishonoring examination. He spoke sternly +as he inquired: + +"Upon what grounds do you make this charge? Where are your witnesses?" + +"The Reverend Mr. Borden will please step forward," said the magistrate. + +The strange clergyman came up to the table and stood there. + +The magistrate administered the oath to this witness. + +At the same moment Mr. Philip Desmond took his place at the table to +conduct the examination. + +"Your name is Adam Borden?" + +"Yes, sir," answered the clerical witness. + +"You are the rector of Saint Blank's Episcopal Church, Philadelphia?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You know the accused?" + +"Yes, sir. He is Mr. Alden Lytton," replied the rector, bowing gravely +to the prisoner. + +Alden acknowledged the courtesy by a nod, and then waited with more +amazement and curiosity than anxiety to hear what sort of a case they +would make out against him with the aid of this man, whom he never saw +before, and yet who claimed to know him well. + +"State, if you please, Mr. Borden, what you know of Mr. Lytton in regard +to this case." + +"In the month of September of last year Mr. Lytton came to my house in +company with a lady to whom he wished to be married immediately. I +conducted the pair into the church and married them there, in the +presence of my sexton and his daughter. I registered the marriage in the +church books and gave a certificate, signed by myself and the witnesses +to the marriage. They then left the church together. I had never seen +them before, and I have never seen them since until to-day, when I see +and recognize Mr. Lytton, just as I should recognize his bride if I +should see her." + +"Where is she?" inquired the magistrate. + +"Your worship, the lady can be produced at once, to be identified by the +witness," said Philip Desmond. + +And he wrote on a slip of paper and handed it to a constable, who +silently left the room. + +Meanwhile Alden Lytton waited with constantly increasing curiosity to +find out to whom he had been unconsciously married in the month of +September, and in the city of Philadelphia. It flashed upon him suddenly +that he had been in Philadelphia about the middle of the last September, +and in company with Mary Grey. But he felt certain that he had never +gone out with her while there; and he waited with intensely curious +interest to hear how they could possibly make out a case against him. + +Presently the door opened and the constable returned, bringing with him +a gracefully-moving woman, dressed in black and deeply veiled. + +"Your worship, this is the true wife of the accused, produced here to be +identified by the witness," said Mr. Desmond, taking the hand of the +lady and leading her to the table. + +"Will you be so good as to raise your veil, ma'am?" requested the +magistrate. + +The lady lifted the black veil and threw it behind her head, revealing +the beautiful face of Mary Grey. + +Alden Lytton had half expected to see her, yet he could not forbear the +exclamation: + +"Mrs. Grey!" + +"Mrs. Lytton, if you please, sir! You have taken from me your love and +your protection, but you can not take from me your name! That is still +mine. You have taken from me my peace of heart, but you shall not take +from me my name! When you address me again call me Mrs. Lytton, for that +is my legal name!" + +"It is false--infamously false!" began Alden Lytton, crimsoning with +indignation. + +But the magistrate stopped him, saying: + +"Mr. Lytton, this is very unseemly. If this lady claims a relation to +you that she can not prove she will do so at her own proper peril. Let +us continue the examination and conduct it with decent order." + +Alden Lytton bowed to the magistrate and said, with what calmness he +could command: + +"This woman--no, this libel upon womanhood, who is brought here to be +identified as my wife, might have rather been summoned to bear testimony +against me in any false charge she and her co-conspirators might have +chosen to set up, since she is not, and never has been, my wife. Her +presence here can not establish one single point in this infamous +accusation. Yet I am anxious to know how she and her confederate--as I +am forced to regard this witness--will attempt to do so. Let the +examination proceed." + +"Mr. Borden, will you look upon this lady?" respectfully demanded Mr. +Desmond. + +The reverend gentleman put on his spectacles and scrutinized the face of +Mary Grey, who met his gaze, and then lowered her eyes. + +"Can you identify her as the lady whom you united in marriage with Mr. +Alden Lytton?" inquired Mr. Desmond. + +"Yes, assuredly I can. She is the lady, then called Mary Grey, whom I +united in marriage with that gentleman, then called Alden Lytton, and to +whom I gave the marriage certificate, signed by myself and two +witnesses. Those witnesses can be produced when wanted," answered the +Rev. Mr. Borden, with much assurance. + +"These witnesses are not needed just now. But I wish you to examine this +certificate, Mr. Borden," said Mr. Desmond, putting a folded paper in +the hands of the minister. + +The reverend gentleman adjusted his spectacles and scrutinized it. + +"Is that the certificate of marriage that you gave Mrs. Mary Lytton, the +wife of Mr. Alden Lytton, on the day that you united them?" inquired Mr. +Desmond. + +"Yes, sir, it is," answered the minister. + +"Are you quite sure?" + +"Quite sure, sir. Why, I know the paper and the printed form, as well as +my own autograph and the signatures of the two witnesses," declared the +minister. + +"That will do. You may sit down, sir," said Mr. Desmond. + +"I beg your pardon. I would like to ask that witness a few questions +before he retires," said Mr. Lytton. + +"Of course that is your right, sir," said the magistrate. + +Alden Lytton arose and confronted the witness, looking him full in the +face. + +"You are a minister of the gospel, I believe, Mr. Borden?" he inquired. + +"Yes, sir. I am rector of Saint Blank's Episcopal Church in +Philadelphia, as you yourself know very well, having there received my +ministry on the day that you then declared to be 'the happiest of your +life,'" replied the minister. + +"As Heaven is my witness, I never saw your face before I met you in this +office! Now then, reverend sir, please to look me in the eyes while you +answer my next questions. Being upon your oath, you declare that on a +certain day, in the month of last September, in your parish church, in +the city of Philadelphia, you performed the marriage ceremony between +Alden Lytton and Mary Grey?" + +"I do most solemnly declare, upon my sacred oath, that I did so," +answered Mr. Borden, meeting the searching gaze of the questioner +without flinching. + +"This is the most astounding effrontery! But attend further, sir, if +you please. Being on your oath, you declare that I am the man and that +female is the woman whom you joined in marriage, under the names of +Alden Lytton and Mary Grey?" + +"On my sacred oath I most solemnly declare that you are the man and she +is the woman I then and there united together," unflinchingly replied +the minister. + +For a moment Alden Lytton was mute with amazement; and then he said: + +"Let me look at that paper that is said to be a certificate of this +marriage." + +Mr. Desmond handed over the document. + +Alden Lytton read it, and then recommenced his cross-examination of the +minister. + +"And this is the certificate you gave the pretended bride?" he inquired. + +"That is the certificate I gave your wife, sir." + +"And you persist in declaring, under oath, that you solemnized a +marriage between myself, Alden Lytton, and this woman, Mary Grey, here +present?" + +"I do, most solemnly." + +"Then, sir," said Alden Lytton, flushing to his temples with fierce +indignation, "all I have further to say is this--that you have basely +perjured yourself to assist and support an infamous conspiracy!" + +"Sir--sir--Mr. Lytton!" said the magistrate, in trepidation. "This +gentleman is a most highly respected preacher of the gospel, quite +incapable of such a thing!" + +"I do not care whether he be priest, bishop, pope or apostle! He has +basely perjured himself in support of an infamous conspiracy!" + +"Mr. Lytton--Mr. Lytton," said the magistrate, "if you have anything to +bring forward to disprove this strange charge we shall be glad to hear +it. But vituperation is not testimony." + +"I know it," said Alden Lytton, trying hard to control his raging +passion. "I know it, and I beg pardon of the magistrate. But this is a +foul conspiracy against my peace, honor and liberty--and oh, great +Heaven, against the honor of my dear, noble young wife! But this vile +conspiracy shall surely be exposed, and when it is, by all my hopes of +heaven, no charity, no mercy, no consideration in the universe shall +prevent me from prosecuting and pursuing these conspirators to +punishment with the utmost rigor of the law!" + +"Mr. Lytton, have you anything to bring forward in disproof of the +charges made against you?" inquired the magistrate. + +"No, sir; not now, nor here. I must have time to look this monstrous +falsehood in the face and prepare for its total destruction." + +"Then, Mr. Lytton, I shall have to send your case to court for trial. +Have you bail?" + +"Yes, sir," spoke up Joseph Brent, coming forward before Alden Lytton +could speak, "he has bail. I will enter into bonds for my esteemed young +friend, Alden Lytton, to any amount you may please to name." + +"The charge is one of the gravest; the position of the parties involved +in it is high in the social scale; the evidence already elicited is of +the most convincing and convicting character; every circumstance would +seem to point to the expediency of evading the trial by flight, or any +other means. In view of all the circumstances of the case I feel it my +duty to demand a very heavy bail. I fix the bail, therefore, at the sum +of twenty thousand dollars," said the magistrate. + +"It might be twenty times twenty thousand dollars, and I would enter it +for him. A man of honor, like Mr. Lytton, falsely accused of a base +crime, does not fly from trial. On the contrary he demands it for his +own vindication," said Joseph Brent, earnestly. + +Alden Lytton turned and grasped his hand in silent acknowledgment of his +noble friendship. Then, addressing the magistrate, he said: + +"I am ready to enter into a recognizance with my esteemed friend here +for my appearance at court to answer this charge--this charge as +ridiculous as it is monstrous." + +The magistrate nodded and directed his clerk to fill out the proper +forms. + +When these were completed and signed the accused was discharged from +custody. + +He bowed to the magistrate, and even to the others, and was about to +leave the office, followed by Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent, when Mary Grey +darted swiftly and silently to his side and hissed in his ear: + +"I swore that I would take you in the hour of your greatest triumph and +strike you down to the dust in dishonor! I have done so! I will send you +to the penitentiary yet--felon!" + +"I think that you will find yourself there, madam, before many months +have passed over your head. There are severe laws against forgery, +perjury and conspiracy," answered Alden Lytton. + +Outside of the office the three gentlemen consulted their watches. It +was now six o'clock in the afternoon. + +Then they looked about them. + +They had come to Wendover in the deputy-sheriff's carriage. That had +gone. And there was no conveyance waiting to take them to Blue Cliff +Hall. + +"We must go to the old Reindeer and hire their hack," said Mr. Lyle. + +"Excuse me, Lyle; let us walk to your parsonage first. You must give me +house-room there for a few weeks, for I do not wish to stop at the hotel +to be stared at, and--I shall not return to Blue Cliffs, or enter the +presence of my pure and noble young wife, until I shall be cleared from +this foul charge," said Alden Lytton, firmly. + +"Not return to Blue Cliffs? Why, Lytton, you will break your wife's +heart if you keep her from you in this your day of sorrow!" exclaimed +Mr. Lyle. + +"Her heart is too heroic to be easily broken. And a little reflection +will convince you that, under the peculiar circumstances of this +accusation, it is expedient that I should absent myself from her and +from her dwelling until I shall be cleared. Now if the charge against me +were that of murder, or anything else but what it is, my wife might be +by my side. But being what it is, you must see that I best consult her +dignity and delicacy by abstaining from seeing her until after my +acquittal. No, I shall neither see, speak, nor write to her while I +suffer under this charge." + +"I see now that you are perfectly right," said Mr. Lyle. + +"Yes, that you are," added Mr. Brent, as the three walked out toward the +minister's cottage. + +"I only wish you to install me, Lyle, by explaining to your good old +housekeeper that I am to be an inmate of the parsonage during your +absence, so that she may not take my presence as an unjustifiable +intrusion," said Alden Lytton. + +"She would never do that in any case," answered Stephen Lyle. + +"And when you have installed me I wish you and Brent to return to Blue +Cliffs and rejoin your brides at once. And you, Lyle, must break this +matter to my dear Emma as delicately and tenderly as you can. She does +not need to be told that I am entirely guiltless of the crime that is +laid to my charge; for she knows that I am incapable of committing such +an one. Nor does she require to be assured of my undying love and faith. +She is assured of that. But tell her to be of good cheer, to bear this +temporary separation patiently, and to wait hopefully our speedy +meeting in happier days. Will you do this, my friend?" + +"Most faithfully," answered Mr. Lyle. + +"And then I wish you to start at once upon your wedding tours. They must +not be further delayed on my account." + +"Look here, Lytton," said Stephen Lyle, earnestly. "I speak for myself +and also for Brent, who feels just as I do. We start upon no bridal +tours until you are out of this trouble. We could not leave you in your +trouble. And our girls, I am sure, would not leave your wife in her +sorrow. So that is all over. What I have to propose is this: That I +bring our Laura home here to-morrow. And that we remain here to keep you +company, while Victor--I mean Brent--and Electra stay for the present at +Blue Cliffs as the guests of Mrs. Alden Lytton." + +"I hope you approve the plan. We talked it over and settled it all while +we were in the magistrate's office attending the examination," added +Joseph Brent. + +They had by this time reached the gates of the pretty cottage. + +Alden Lytton stopped, turned around and grasped a hand of each faithful +friend. For a moment he could not speak for the strong emotion that +choked him. + +"God bless you!" he said, at length, in a half suffocated voice. "God +bless you both! I have surely found one 'precious jewel' in the head of +this 'toad'--the priceless jewel of your friendship!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +HOW EMMA HEARD THE NEWS. + + An angel guard-- + Chariots of fire, horses of fire encamp, + To keep thee safe. + --MRS. ELLET. + + +It was eleven o'clock that night when the Rev. Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent +reached Blue Cliffs on their return from Wendover. + +Of course all the guests of the bridal reception had long since gone +away. The house was closed and all the windows were dark except those of +the library, where the gentlemen found the two brides and their hostess +sitting up and awaiting their return. + +"Where is Alden? Is he not with you?" anxiously inquired Emma, coming to +meet them. + +"Our friend might certainly have come back with us if he had chosen to +do so; but he deemed it better to remain at Wendover to-night, and we +agreed with him. He is at my house," answered Mr. Lyle. + +"You have something painful to tell me. I beg you will tell it at once," +said Emma, turning very pale, but controlling herself perfectly and +speaking with calmness. + +"Something ridiculous, if it were not so outrageous, I should say, dear +Mrs. Lytton. Is there a light in the parlor?" + +"Yes." + +"Then come with me there and I will tell you all about it," answered Mr. +Lyle, speaking cheerfully, as he offered his arm to Emma. + +They left the room together and went to the parlor, where a lamp was +burning low and shedding a dim light around. + +Mr. Lyle led his hostess to a sofa, where he sat down beside her. + +And then and there he told her the whole history of the charge that had +been brought against her husband, as it came out upon the preliminary +examination. + +Emma listened in unspeakable grief, horror, amazement and mortification. +Yet with all these strong emotions struggling in her bosom, she +controlled herself so far as to preserve her outward composure and +answer with calmness. + +"And Mary Grey claims to be _his wife_? I should think the woman were +raving mad, but for the plausible testimony she has managed to bring +together. As it is, I am forced to look upon this in the same light that +you do, as a base conspiracy, in which she has found some skillful +confederates. Of course it must be only the embarrassment and +mortification of a few days and then the whole plot must be exposed. +Such a plot can not, certainly, bear a thorough investigation," she +said. + +But though she spoke so confidently, and believed all that she said, yet +her face continued deathly pale and her hands were clutched closely +together on her lap. + +Then Mr. Lyle explained to her the delicate motives that governed her +husband in deciding him to remain at the Wendover parsonage, and to +absent himself entirely from Blue Cliffs and from her until this charge +should be disproved. + +Emma flushed and paled again, and clutched her hands a little closer, +but made no comment yet. She seemed to wait for Mr. Lyle to proceed. + +"He says, my child, and he speaks rightly, that if the accusation +against him was of almost any other felony than what it is, you should +be with him through all he might have to endure. But the accusation +being what it is every consideration for your dignity and delicacy +constrains him to absent himself from you until his fair fame shall be +cleared. He therefore implores you, by me, not to attempt to see him, or +even to write to him, but to let all your communications with him be +verbal ones, sent through me. And I, on my part, my child, promise to +fulfill my duties to you both faithfully and loyally," said Mr. Lyle. + +"I must comply," answered Emma, in a low, restrained voice, that would +have faltered and broken had she not possessed and exercised such great +power of self-control. "I must comply, although this is the very hardest +requisition that my dear husband could make of me--to abandon him in +this hour of his greatest need. I must comply, because I know that it is +right. Our mutual honor demands this temporary separation--for of course +it will be but temporary." + +"Very temporary, and lightened by frequent news of each other through +me," replied Mr. Lyle. + +"But that woman, Mary Grey! The amazing wickedness of that woman!" said +Emma, with a shudder, and almost under her breath. + +"My dear," said the minister, gravely, "you knew Mrs. Grey intimately +for several years. Had you really confidence in her during all that +time?" + +"N-no. I often doubted and suspected her. And I blamed myself for such +doubts and suspicions, and compelled myself to think the best of her and +do the best for her, for my father's sake--because he loved her. Oh, the +astounding wickedness of that woman, as it has developed itself in this +conspiracy against us! But she must have had confederates. The minister +who professes to have married her to Mr. Lytton, and who gave her a +marriage certificate to that effect, may he not have been a confederate +of hers? May he not have taken a false oath--made a false statement and +given a false certificate?" + +"Oh, no, no, no, my child--a thousand times no! The character of the +Reverend Mr. Borden is far above any such suspicion," answered Mr. Lyle. + +"Then he must himself have been deceived. Some one must have personated +Mr. Lytton at that ceremony--some one who has some resemblance to +him--and utterly deceived the minister," said Emma. And she paused for a +few moments, with her head upon her hand, as in hard, deep thought; and +then a sudden flash of intelligence, like lightning, lit up her face, +as she exclaimed: "I know who it was! I know all about it now! Oh, Mr. +Lyle, I shall save my dear husband's honor from a breath of reproach, +because I have found out all about it now!" + +"My dear child--" began the good minister, who thought that she looked a +little wild. + +But Emma vehemently interrupted him. + +"It was Craven Kyte who personated Mr. Lytton at that marriage! Oh, I am +sure it was! I am as sure of it as I am of being alive at this time! Oh, +Mr. Lyle, don't you remember the wonderful personal resemblance between +Craven Kyte and Mr. Lytton? They were counterparts of each other, except +in one small particular. Craven Kyte had a black mole on his chin. And +he was deeply in love with Mary Grey, and she could have done whatever +she pleased with him. She could have persuaded him to personate Alden +Lytton at that marriage ceremony; and I am sure that she has done so. I +feel a positive conviction that he is the man." + +"The explanation of the mystery is a very plausible one indeed," gravely +mused the minister, with his bearded chin in his hand. + +"It is the true and only one," said Emma, emphatically. + +"Where is the young man now? Has he been heard from yet?" inquired Mr. +Lyle. + +"No; I believe not. He is still missing. He has been missing ever since +last September, when he went away for a holiday. That is another link in +the chain of circumstantial evidence against him, for it was in +September that this marriage was performed." + +"This looks more and more likely," mused the minister. + +"Mr. Lyle, this is what must be done immediately: Advertisements must be +inserted in all the principal newspapers in the principal cities of the +United States and Canada, offering great inducements to Craven Kyte, +late of Wendover, to return to his home, or to communicate with his +friends." + +"Yes, that must be done immediately, even upon the bare chance of his +being the man we want. But if he _be_ the man, there is little +likelihood of his making his appearance, or even answering the +advertisement. If he be the man he knows that he has committed a +misdemeanor in personating Mr. Lytton under these circumstances. And he +will not be likely to place himself within reach of justice." + +"Then we must also supplement these advertisements with others, offering +large rewards for any information as to the present residence of the +missing man. And this must be done at once." + +"Certainly, if it is done at all. The man must be found and produced in +court, to be confronted with Mr. Borden beside Alden Lytton. My dear +child, your woman's wit may have saved your husband." + +"Heaven grant it!" said Emma, fervently. + +Next Mr. Lyle informed her of the proposed arrangement by which the two +newly-married pairs were to give up their bridal tour for the present, +while two of them, himself and Laura, should go home to the Wendover +parsonage to stay with Alden Lytton, and the other two, Joseph Brent and +Electra, should remain at Blue Cliffs, in attendance upon Emma. + +"Emma is not a queen, that she should require ladies and gentlemen in +waiting; but she will be very much comforted by the presence of her dear +friends, Joseph and Electra," said the young wife, with a sad smile, as +she arose to return to her guests. + +Later in the evening Laura and Electra were informed about the state of +affairs. + +Their amazement was unmeasured and unutterable. + +But they at once set down the criminal conspiracy of Mary Grey against +Mr. and Mrs. Lytton to its right motive--malignant hatred and revenge +for scorned love. + +The two young brides most willingly gave up their tours and consented to +stay at home with their friends during the time of the trial. + +The next morning, therefore, Mr. Lyle took his young wife and returned +with her to the Wendover parsonage, where he comforted the soul of Alden +Lytton by reporting to him all that had passed between himself and Emma. + +"She keeps up bravely, heroically. She is worthy to be a hero's wife!" +said the minister, warmly. + +"She is--she is! She comes of a heroic race; therefore the deeper guilt +of those who seek to bring dishonor upon her!" groaned Alden Lytton. + +Then Mr. Lyle said: + +"Her feminine intuition discovered what we men, with all our logic, +would never have learned--that is to say, who it was that personated +_you_ at that false marriage." + +"Indeed! Who was it?" + +"Craven Kyte," answered Mr. Lyle. + +And then he told Alden Lytton all that had been said between himself and +Emma on that subject. + +"I feel sure that her suspicions are correct," he added. + +"I think it highly probable that they are. Now there are two or three +things that must be done this morning. First, those advertisements for +the missing man must be written out and distributed all over the +country. Secondly, a messenger must be dispatched to Philadelphia to +question the people at the Blank House as to whether any of them entered +my room and saw me sleeping there during the hours of eleven a. m. and +one p. m., on the fifteenth of September of last year, when I was said +to have married that woman. And also to search the registers of that +date of all the hotels in the city for the name of Craven Kyte." + +"To get up evidence for the defense?" + +"Certainly; to get up evidence for the defense." + +"Have you thought of employing counsel?" + +"Certainly. Berners and Denham are as good men as any I can find. I have +sent a note to ask Berners to come here to see me to-day. While waiting +for him you and I can write out those advertisements," said Alden +Lytton. + +These plans were all promptly carried out. + +That same day an experienced detective was found and dispatched to +Philadelphia to hunt up evidence for the defense. + +And that evening advertisements were sent by mail, to be scattered all +over the country. + +But some days after this, Mary Grey, who was stopping at the Reindeer, +saw one of these advertisements in a Richmond paper and smiled in +triumph. + +"They have scented out a part of the truth," she said. "They have more +sharpness than I gave them credit for possessing. They have scented out +a part of the truth, but they can not follow the scent. Ha, ha, ha! They +may advertise from now till doomsday, but they will never get a response +from him! Let them rake the Susquehanna if they can! Perhaps, deep in +its mud, they may find what the fishes have left of him!" she said, with +a sneer. + +But even as she spoke these wicked words she shuddered with horror. + +Meanwhile, every day Mr. Lytton and his counsel, Messrs. Berners and +Denham, consulted together concerning the proper line of defense to be +taken by them. + +It is almost needless to say that Messrs. Berners and Denham felt +perfectly sure of the absolute guiltlessness of their client, and quite +sanguine in their expectations both of a full acquittal of the +falsely-accused and of a thorough exposure and successful prosecution of +the conspirators. + +But as time passed and no answer came to the advertisements for the +missing man both counsel and client began to grow anxious. + +The detective who had been sent to Philadelphia to look up evidence for +the defense returned to Wendover with such meager intelligence that the +hopes of all concerned sank very low. + +So overwhelming was the evidence against the accused that to gain an +acquittal it was absolutely necessary either to prove an alibi or to +find the man who had personated Mr. Lytton at the marriage ceremony. + +But neither of these most important objects had been yet effected. + +No one had been found in Philadelphia, or elsewhere, who had set eyes on +Mr. Alden Lytton between the hours of eleven and one on the fifteenth of +the last September, at which time his marriage with Mary Grey was +alleged to have taken place. + +And no one had answered the advertisements for Craven Kyte. + +And what complicated this part of the case still more was the +circumstance that Mr. Bastiennello, the senior partner of the firm in +which poor Craven Kyte was once the youngest "Co.," was absent in +Europe, where he had been on a visit to his relations for the last two +months, so that he could not be consulted as to the probable whereabouts +of his former partner. + +Meanwhile Mr. Lyle and his young bride Laura did all that they possibly +could to comfort and cheer their unfortunate brother and sister. + +One or the other of them went every day to Blue Cliffs to carry to Emma +the encouraging news of Alden's continued good health and spirits, and +to bring back to him the glad tidings of Emma's heroic patience and +cheerfulness. + +And in this manner the tedious weeks passed slowly away and brought the +day of the trial. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE TRIAL. + + +It was a glorious morning in June. All nature seemed exulting in the +young summer's splendor. + +And any stranger arriving at the town of Wendover that day would have +supposed that the population of the whole surrounding country were +taking advantage of the delightful weather to hold a gay festival there. + +The whole town was full of visitors, come to the great trial. + +Mr. Hezekiah Greenfield, of the Reindeer Hotel, was beside himself under +the unusual press of business, and his waiters and hostlers were nearly +crazy amid the confusion of arrivals and the conflicting claims made all +at once upon their attention and services. + +The scene around the court-house was even more tumultuous. + +The court-house was a plain, oblong, two-story edifice, built of the red +stone that abounded in the mountain quarries of that district. It stood +in a large yard shaded with many trees and surrounded by a high stone +wall. + +In the rear end of this yard stood the county prison. + +The court-yard was filled with curious people, who were pressing toward +the doors of the court-house, trying to effect an entrance into the +building, which was already crammed to suffocation. + +In the minister's cottage parlor, at the same early hour, were assembled +the Rev. Mr. Lyle, honest John Lytton and his shock-headed son, Charley, +Joseph Brent, Alden Lytton, and his counsel, Messrs. Berners and Denham. + +John Lytton had arrived only that morning. And on meeting his nephew had +taken him by both hands, exclaiming: + +"You know, Aldy, my boy, as I told you before, I don't believe the first +word of all this. 'Cause it's impossible, you know, for any man of our +race to do anything unbecoming of a Lytton and a gentleman. And I think +a man's family ought to stand by him in a case like this. So I not only +came myself, but I fotch Charley, and if I had had another son I would +a-fotched him too. I don't know but I'd a fotched your aunt Kitty and +the girls, only, as I said to them, a trial of this sort a'n't no +proper place for ladies. What do you think yourself?" + +"I quite agree with you, Uncle John. And I feel really very deeply +touched by the proof of confidence and affection you give me in coming +here yourself," said Alden, earnestly, pressing and shaking the honest +hands that held his own. + +And at that moment Mr. Lyle placed in Mr. Alden Lytton's hands a little +note from Emma, saying: + +"She gave it to me yesterday, with the request that I would hand it to +you to-day." + +Alden unfolded and read it. + +It was only a brief note assuring him of her unwavering faith in Heaven +and in himself, and her perfect confidence, notwithstanding the present +dark aspect of affairs, in his speedy and honorable acquittal. + +He pressed this little note to his lips and placed it near his heart. + +And then Mr. Lyle told him that it wanted but a quarter to ten, the +carriages were at the door, and it was time to start for the +court-house. + +Mr. Lytton nodded assent, and they all went out. + +There were two carriages before the cottage gates. + +Into the first went the Rev. Mr. Lyle, Mr. Alden Lytton, and his +counsel, Messrs. Berners and Denham. + +Into the second went Mr. John Lytton, his son Charley, and Mr. Joseph +Brent. + +The court-house was situated at the opposite end of the town from the +parsonage, and was about a mile distant. The gentlemen of this party +might easily have walked the distance, but preferred to ride, in order +to avoid the curious gaze of strangers who had flocked into the town. + +A rapid drive of twenty minutes' duration brought them to the +court-house. + +The Rev. Mr. Lyle alighted first, and called a constable to clear the +way for the party to pass into the court-room. + +The accused, Alden Lytton, was accommodated with a chair in front of the +bench, and near him sat his relatives, John and Charles Lytton, his +friends Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent, and his counsel, Messrs. Berners and +Denham. + +Judge Burlington sat upon the bench to try the case. + +After the tedious preliminaries were over the accused was arraigned +with the usual formula, and--not without some natural scorn and +indignation, for he was still too youthful to have learned much +self-control--answered: + +"Not guilty, of course!" + +As if he would have added, "You know that quite as well as I myself and +everybody else does." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +A HOST OF WITNESSES. + + +Mr. Martindale, State's Attorney, opened the case for the prosecution +with a few brief but very severe remarks upon the baseness of the crime +with which the prisoner stood charged, and then called his first +witness-- + +"The Reverend Adam Borden." + +Mr. Borden took the stand and testified to having performed the marriage +ceremony between Alden Lytton and Mary Grey on the morning of the +fifteenth of the preceding September, at his own parish church, in the +city of Philadelphia. + +He was strictly cross-examined by Mr. Berners, but his testimony only +came out the clearer from the ordeal. + +John Martin, sexton of the church, and Sarah Martin, his daughter, were +successively examined, and testified to having witnessed the marriage +ceremony between the parties in question. + +They also were cross-examined by Mr. Berners, without detriment to their +testimony. + +"Mrs. Mary Lytton" was then called upon to come forward for +identification. + +And Mary Grey, dressed in deep mourning and closely veiled, came up, +leaning heavily on the arm of Mr. Philip Desmond, assistant counsel for +the prosecution. + +At the request of counsel she drew aside her veil, revealing a face so +ghastly pale that all who gazed upon it shuddered. + +Alden Lytton turned to look at her, in order to catch her eyes, but they +were fixed upon the ground, and never once raised. + +Even he, so deeply injured by her diabolical arts, turned away from her +with shuddering pity. + +"The woman is at once going mad and dying," he said to himself. + +Mary Grey was then fully identified by the three witnesses as the woman +who was, at the time and place specified, married to Mr. Alden Lytton. + +But she had scarcely stood long enough to be sworn to, when her white +face turned blue and she fell swooning into the arms of Philip Desmond. + +She was borne out into the sheriff's room, amid the sympathetic murmurs +of the audience. + +Mr. Martindale then produced and read the marriage certificate, and +recalled the Rev. Mr. Borden, who acknowledged it as his own document, +presented to "Mrs. Mary Lytton" immediately after the marriage ceremony +had been concluded. + +The State's Attorney next produced certain letters, purporting to have +been written by Mr. Alden Lytton to Mrs. Mary Grey during the period of +his courtship. + +These letters, he said, were important as corroborative evidence, and he +begged leave to read them to the jury. + +He then commenced with the correspondence from the earliest date. + +And there in open court he read aloud, one after the other, all those +fond, foolish, impassioned letters that the love-sick lad, Alden Lytton, +had written to the artful woman who had beguiled him in the earliest +days of their acquaintance, and before he had discovered her deep +depravity. + +This was the severest ordeal Alden Lytton had to bear. For he knew he +had written these foolish letters in his romantic boyhood, and in his +manhood he felt heartily ashamed of them. Under _any_ circumstances he +would have been heartily ashamed of them. His ears tingled and his face +burned to hear them read aloud to judge, jury and gaping crowd. + +And then and there he registered a vow never, never, never to write +another gushing love-letter so long as he should live in this world; no, +not even to his own dear wife. + +When the last terrible letter was finished he felt as much relieved as +if he had been unbound from the rack. + +But his relief was soon superseded by the utmost astonishment when Mr. +Martindale took up another parcel, saying: + +"The letters that I have just read, your honor, and gentlemen of the +jury, were, as you have heard, written from the University of +Charlottesville some years ago. Those that I am about to read to you +were written from Wendover last year, in the few weeks preceding the +marriage of the prisoner with Mary Grey." + +And so saying, the State's Attorney proceeded to read, one after the +other, all those forged letters which had been executed with inimitable +skill by Mary Grey herself and mailed from Wendover by her unconscious +confederate, Craven Kyte. + +These counterfeits were even fonder, more foolish and more impassioned +than the real ones, and every letter pressed speedy marriage, until the +last one, which actually arranged the mode and manner of proceeding. + +During the reading of the final letter Mr. Alden Lytton beckoned his +counsel, who approached him. + +"I acknowledge the first batch of folly written from Charlottesville, +when I was a boy of eighteen or nineteen," said Alden, between a laugh +and a blush. + +"Every man has been a boy, and a fool, at least once in his life. I know +I have; and I would much rather be hanged than have my letters read," +laughingly replied Mr. Berners. + +"But, by all my hopes of heaven, I never wrote one of those infernal +letters of the last parcel!" added Mr. Lytton. + +"I never supposed you did. It will, no doubt, be possible to prove them +to be forgeries. If we can do that the whole prosecution breaks down," +replied Mr. Berners. + +"They _are_ forgeries!" said Alden Lytton, indignantly. + +But that was more easily said than established. + +A score of witnesses, one after the other, were called, and swore to the +hand writing of Mr. Alden Lytton in those letters. + +Other witnesses of less importance followed--waiters and chambermaids +from the Blank House, Philadelphia, who swore to the fact that Mr. +Lytton and Mrs. Grey had taken rooms together at that house on the +fourteenth of September and had left it on the afternoon of the +fifteenth. + +The prosecuting attorney said that he might call other witnesses who had +seen the parties meet as by appointment at the railway station at +Forestville and proceed thence to Richmond, and others again who had +seen them together in the Richmond and Washington steamer; but he would +forbear, for he felt convinced that the overwhelming amount of testimony +already given was more than sufficient to establish the first marriage. +The second and felonious marriage was a notorious fact; but for form's +sake it must be proved before the jury. + +And then, to their extreme disgust, the Rev. Stephen Lyle, Joseph Brent +and John Lytton were successively called to testify that they had all +been present and witnessed the marriage of the accused, Alden Lytton and +Emma Angela Cavendish, on the fifteenth of the last February, at Blue +Cliff Hall, in this county and State. + +John Lytton, who was the last of the three put upon the stand, came very +near being committed for contempt of court by saying: + +"Yes, he had witnessed his nephew's, Mr. Alden Lytton's marriage with +Miss Cavendish, which he had a perfect right to marry her, never having +been married before. None of the Lyttonses were capable of any such +burglarious, bigamarious conduct as they accused his nephew of. +Everybody knew the Lyttonses. The Lyttonses were none of your upstart +judges"--this was aimed directly at the bench. "The Lyttonses was as old +as the flood, for that matter!" and so forth, and so forth. + +The witness was not committed for this offense, but merely reminded that +all this was very irrelevant to the matter in question, and ordered to +sit down. + +He obeyed, growling at the indignities heaped upon the "Lyttonses" by +"upstarts." + +State's Attorney Martindale then arose in his place and opened his +argument for the prosecution in a very able review of the evidence that +had been given by the witnesses examined and the documents presented. + +It was while he was still speaking that a little disturbance was heard +at the lower end of the court-room. + +All who heard it looked around to see what the matter was. + +Presently a bailiff was seen pushing his way up through the crowd. + +He came up to the counsel for the accused and handed a card to Mr. +Denham. + +That gentleman took it, looked at it, stared at it, changed color, and, +without a word of explanation, abruptly rose and left his seat, and +followed the note-bearer through the crowd and out of the court-room. + +Mr. Berners and Mr. Lytton looked after him in surprise and curiosity. + +State's Attorney Martindale, meanwhile, went on with his argument. + +After an absence of about fifteen minutes Mr. Denham returned and +resumed his seat beside his senior colleague, Mr. Berners. + +He gave no explanation of his abrupt departure and absence, but sat +there listening attentively to the speech of the prosecuting attorney +and smiling to himself as in silent triumph. + +Neither his senior colleague, Mr. Berners, nor his client, Mr. Lytton, +interrupted his reflections, considering that it fell to his duty to +follow Mr. Martindale's speech with an opening address for the defense. + +At length Mr. Martindale brought his argument to a conclusion by a very +brilliant peroration, and sat down, saying that there the prosecution +would rest the case. + +Mr. Denham, giving his client a reassuring pressure of the hand, and +wearing the same strange smile of secret mirth and triumph on his face, +arose for the defense. He began by saying: + +"Your honor and gentlemen of the jury: The prosecution has favored us +with some able speeches, and has produced a host of witnesses to prove +the truth of a false and malicious charge brought against our client. We +of the defense have no speech to make, and only one witness to call. Let +Craven Kyte be put upon the stand and sworn." + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +ONE SINGLE WITNESS. + + This is all true as it is strange; + Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth + To the end of reckoning. + --SHAKESPEARE. + + +Every one arose and looked around to catch sight of the expected +witness. + +But no one was so much affected as the accused. He started to his feet +on first hearing the name of Craven Kyte, and then dropped back into his +chair, pale as marble. + +Evidently he had not expected to hear this man called. + +In the meantime a little bustle was heard in the bottom of the hall, as +of some one pushing his way through the crowd. + +And presently Craven Kyte, pale, calm, handsome and well-dressed in +clerical black, came forward and entered the witness-box. + +He bowed to the presiding judge and stood ready to give in his +testimony. + +All eyes within range of them turned constantly from the witness on the +stand to the prisoner at the bar. + +The two men were perfect duplicates of each other. + +The oath was administered to the witness. + +Mr. Berners conducted the examination. + +"Please to state your name and age, the place of your nativity, and all +you know of the marriage performed at the Church of St. ----, in the +city of Philadelphia, on the fifteenth day of September last, between +the hours of twelve and one p. m.," said the counsel. + +"My name is Craven Kyte. I am a native of this town. I am twenty-three +years of age. I know Mrs. Mary Grey, one of the parties to this +marriage. I was engaged to be married to her. On the evening of the +fourteenth of September I arrived in Philadelphia, having followed her +there at her request. On the morning of the fifteenth I met her by +appointment at the art gallery of Bertue Brothers. It was arranged that +we should be married on that day. I took a cab and we entered it. At her +suggestion I directed the driver to take us to the rectory of the +Reverend Mr. Borden. As we drove along she proposed that I should marry +her under the name of Alden Lytton." + +At these words of the witness there was an immense sensation in the +court, breaking forth into murmurs of astonishment and indignation, so +that the judge arose in his place and said that order must be observed +or he should be obliged to command the clearing of the court-room. + +His words produced the proper effect, and the spectators became "as +still as mice." + +The examination of the witness was resumed. + +"You say that Mrs. Mary Grey proposed that you should marry her in the +name of Mr. Alden Lytton?" + +"Yes. I was very much astonished at the proposal, and expostulated with +her about it; but she was in earnest, and at last she made it an +absolute condition of my ever getting her at all that I should marry her +under the name of Alden Lytton." + +"What reason did she give for this singular request?" + +"She said she only wanted to play a harmless practical joke upon Miss +Cavendish, the betrothed of Mr. Lytton." + +"But her joke was so deep and earnest that she made it the only +condition upon which she would marry you at all, you say?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And did you comply with that condition?" + +"Yes, sir. Sooner than lose her I complied with that wicked condition. +It did not seem wicked to me then. It only seemed foolish and +purposeless. And, besides, I firmly believe I was half crazy at that +time." + +"Quite likely," said Mr. Berners, dryly. "What followed?" + +"Well, sir, and gentlemen, we drove to the rectory. She took a blank +card out of her pocket and with a pencil wrote Mr. Alden Lytton's name +on it, and told me to send that in to the rector as if it were my own. +When I looked at the name on the card, I exclaimed how much it looked +like Mr. Lytton's own handwriting; and she said so much the better." + +Again, at these words, a murmur of indignation ran through the +court-room, which was, however, instantly suppressed, as every one +wished to hear every word uttered by this witness. + +He continued: + +"I rang the bell at the rectory, and sent the card in by the servant who +came to open the door. Presently I was invited into the rector's study. +He addressed me as Mr. Lytton, and wanted to know how he could serve me. +Then I told him what I had come for. And he consented to perform the +marriage ceremony, but said that he must do it in the church, which was +just next door to the rectory. I went back to the carriage for Mary--" + +"Meaning Mrs. Grey?" + +"Yes. But I called her 'Mary' then. I went back for her, and brought her +into the church, where, under the name of Alden Lytton, I was married to +Mary Grey by the Reverend Mr. Borden, in the presence of John Martin, +sexton of the parish, and of Sarah Martin, his daughter. A marriage +certificate, signed by the minister and witnesses, was then given to +Mrs. Grey." + +"What happened next?" + +"At her request I drove her back to the Blank House, where she had been +stopping. She got out at the corner of the street, however, and walked +to the house, while I waited in a neighboring reading-room for her +return. After an hour's absence she came back, and we drove to the +Asterick, where I had engaged rooms for us both. But she declined +staying in town any time, and expressed a wish to go to Havre-de-Grace. +So we only stopped at the Asterick long enough to pay my bill and gather +up my effects, and then we took the train for Havre-de-Grace, where we +arrived the same afternoon." + +Here the witness suddenly became so much agitated that he could not go +on for some moments. + +Mr. Denham brought him a glass of water. + +He drank and seemed somewhat revived. + +"Tell us what occurred at Havre-de-Grace." + +"We took rooms at the Star, had tea there, and after tea she proposed to +take a walk down by the water-side, as the evening was so delightful. +When we had walked a while she proposed that we should hire a boat and +go rowing. I objected, being but an indifferent oarsman. But she +insisted, declaring that she had been brought up on the water-side and +could row like a squaw and swim like a fish. I was her slave, and I +obeyed her. We hired the boat of her choice--a mere shell of a boat--" + +Here the judge, who had been growing a little impatient, inquired of the +counsel for the defense: + +"Pray, Mr. Berners, what has all this about the boat to do with the case +on trial?" + +"It has a great deal to do with it, your honor, as tending to prove that +this woman had a deep design upon the peace and honor of the gentleman +whom she claims as her husband, and that she did not hesitate at any +crime to carry out that design to a successful issue," respectfully +replied the counsel. + +"Let the witness proceed then," said the judge. + +"What happened next?" inquired Mr. Denham. + +"Murder happened next--at least, an attempt at murder. We got into the +little shell of a boat, and I took the oars and rowed out into the river +and down with the tide. We rowed about for more than two hours. It grew +very dark and I then wished to come in; but she objected, and asked me +to row around a certain point that I saw dimly down the river. I rowed +to the point and around it, when suddenly she made an exclamation that +her hat had fallen into the water, and she begged me to get it for her. +It floated about three feet from the side of the boat. I drew in my oars +and secured them, and then leaned over the side of the boat and reached +out my hand to get the hat, which was floating further off. I had to +lean so far over, and stretch my hand so far out, that it was as much as +ever I could do to keep my balance. But just as I touched the hat she +gave me a sudden and violent push from behind and sent me into the +water." + +At this a murmur of horror and indignation passed through the +court-room. And on this occasion no one attempted to enforce silence. + +But soon the deep interest of the audience in the story of the witness +closed their lips and opened their ears again, and they became silent +and attentive. + +"Do you mean to say that Mrs. Grey pushed you into the water purposely?" +inquired Mr. Denham. + +"Yes, sir. She could not have done it accidentally. She waited until I +had leaned so far over that the least jar might have made me lose my +balance; and then suddenly, with all her strength, she pushed me, and I +dropped into the water and sunk like so much lead. I could not swim at +all. Twice, in my struggles for life, I rose to the surface and cried +for help. Both times I saw her boat whirling round and round from the +impetus given it by the violence with which she had pushed me over. The +second time I sank I lost my senses. When I recovered them I found +myself stretched out on the deck of a collier, with several people +rubbing and rolling me. But I was weak in all my limbs and sorely +confused in my head." + +"Witness, can you not shorten this?" inquired the judge. + +"Yes, your honor, I can shorten it, if they will permit me. The schooner +that picked me up was the 'Sally Ann,' trading from Havre-de-Grace, and +other coal depots, to Washington and Georgetown. They were outward bound +then, and, as I could give no account of myself, being so nearly dead, +they took me along with them. They carried me to Washington, where I lay +ill in the free ward of the Samaritan Hospital, under the care of the +good Sisters of Mercy, for two months. When I recovered sufficiently to +know where I was I found out that I had been registered there under the +name of Albert Little. I don't know how that happened, but I suppose +somebody must have found in my pocket the card with Alden Lytton written +upon it, and perhaps blotted with the river water, and had misread it +Albert Little. But that is only a conjecture." + +"Confine yourself to facts, witness, and leave conjectures," said the +judge. + +"Well, your honor, the fact then was that my name was registered Albert +Little, however it came to be done. I did not care to set the good +Sisters right about my name, and so I let the matter go. As soon as I +was able to write, and before I was able to walk, I wrote to my senior +partner, Mr. Bastiennello, a private and confidential letter, asking him +to come and visit me at the hospital, and to inquire there for one +Albert Little. Mr. Bastiennello, who had suffered great anxiety on the +subject of my long protracted and unaccountable absence, came at once to +see me. I told him of everything that had befallen me, especially as to +Mary Grey's insisting on my marrying her under the name of Alden Lytton, +and afterward attempting to get rid of me by murder. He was dreadfully +shocked, of course, but in a subsequent conversation with me suggested +that Mrs. Grey had some ultimate purpose in the perpetration of these +crimes, and he advised me to lie perdue for a while until we should see +what her purpose was and foil her in it. Some days afterward he proposed +that I should take a commission from him to go and purchase goods for +him in Europe. As soon as I was able to travel I left the country on +this business. I was absent several months, and only arrived in my +native country five days ago. On the day after my landing at New York, +in looking over some files of newspapers, I read the advertisements for +me. I guessed at once that I was wanted for business connected with the +secret of my own life, and so I packed up and took the first train to +Washington, and the next boat to Richmond, and the train to Wendover, +without stopping an hour on my journey. I reached this place at noon +to-day; found the town full of people, as if a fair or a festival was +going on; asked what was the matter, and was told about this trial. Of +course then I had the key to Mary Grey's mysterious crime, and I knew +where I was wanted. I came at once to the court, wrote my name on a card +and sent it in to Mr. Lytton's junior counsel, who came out to meet me +and brought me here." + +"That will do, Mr. Kyte. Gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the +testimony of our witness, the only and all-sufficient witness for the +defense; but we will recall one who appeared here as the most important +witness for the prosecution. The Reverend Mr. Borden will please to take +the stand once more," said Mr. Berners. + +The rector of St. ---- came forward and took his place in the witness +box. + +"Mr. Borden, will you be so good as to look at these two gentlemen and +tell me, upon your oath, which of them you married to Mrs. Mary Grey?" +politely requested Mr. Berners. + +The rector looked from Alden Lytton to Craven Kyte, and from Craven Kyte +back to Alden Lytton. And his face paled and flushed as he exclaimed: + +"May the Lord of heaven forgive me, for I have made an awful mistake! It +was _that_ gentleman whom I married to Mrs. Grey;" and he pointed +straight to Craven Kyte. + +A murmur of great excitement passed through the court-room. + +"A while ago you swore it was the other man," said Mr. Desmond, with an +ugly sneer. + +"So I did! May Heaven forgive me for the awful, though unconscious +perjury; for so I thought, with all my judgment, until I saw this last +man! And certainly they are perfect duplicates of each other. Any one, +under the same circumstances, might have made the same mistake," meekly +replied the minister. + +And certainly every one who saw and compared the two men agreed with the +last speaker. + +"Will you be so good, reverend sir, as to explain by what test you now +know these perfect duplicates, the one from the other, and are enabled +to identify the particular one whom you married to Mrs. Grey on the +fifteenth of the last September?" + +"Certainly, sir. I can distinguish them by a certain indefinable +difference which I can perceive while I see them together, but which I +might fail to perceive if they were apart from each other. Also I can +identify this last man, who calls himself Craven Kyte, by that small +mark or scar that he bears on his temple near the corner of his left +eye. I noticed it at the time I performed the marriage ceremony, but I +thought it was a fresh scar. And I never remembered it at all when +called upon to identify Mr. Alden Lytton, or indeed until I saw it again +upon Mr. Craven Kyte." + +"That will do," said Mr. Desmond; and the minister was allowed to +retire. + +John and Sarah Martin were recalled in succession, and each, when +confronted with the two men, recanted from their late testimony, and +swore pointedly to the person of Craven Kyte as the man whom they saw +married to Mary Grey. + +At this point the foreman of the jury arose in his place and asked +permission of the bench to render their verdict at once, as they had all +quite made up their minds upon the case. + +After a few moments' consultation, the requested permission was given, +and the jury, without leaving their seats, rendered their verdict of-- + +"Not guilty!" + +The accused was formally discharged from custody. And then the judge did +an almost unprecedented thing. He adjourned the court, came down from +the bench and warmly shook hands with Mr. Lytton, congratulating him +upon his complete vindication. + +And friends crowded around him, rejoicing with him in hearty sympathy. + +Among them came Craven Kyte, saying, as soon as he got a chance to +speak: + +"Mr. Lytton, I have come to implore your pardon for the great wrong I +unconsciously did you. Heaven knows I never meant it!" + +"I do not believe that you ever did," said Alden Lytton, kindly, taking +his hand. + +"I was mad and blind. She told me it was only to be a practical joke, +and made it the only condition of our marriage, and I complied because I +was her slave," continued Craven Kyte, not very clearly. + +"Say no more about it. Forget it all as fast as you can. I shall," +answered Alden, gently pressing and relinquishing the hand that he had +held. + +"Your carriage waits, my dear Lytton. And I am sure you are anxious to +get back to Blue Cliffs and be the first to convey this good news to +your wife," said Mr. Lyle, with a view to help Alden to get rid of his +well-meaning but troublesome friends, who, in the earnestness of their +sympathy with his triumph, forgot they were keeping him from her whom +his soul most longed to meet. + +Friends took the gentle hint, shook hands with him and released him. + +And very soon Alden Lytton, with Mr. Lyle and Laura, were on their way +to Blue Cliffs. + +As the carriage rolled into the yard, Emma ran down the steps, her face +radiant with joy, to meet the beloved husband from whom she had been +separated for so many weeks under such trying circumstances, and whose +face she had been the first to see through the glass windows of the +carriage. + +A moment more and they were locked in each other's arms, fervently +thanking Heaven for their happy reunion. + +Later that evening the six friends were all assembled together in the +drawing-room. + +John Lytton and Charley, who were the guests of the house for the night, +had just bid them good-night and retired to their room. + +And then and there two little confessions were made. + +Alden Lytton related the whole history of his foolish boyish love for +the fascinating and unprincipled widow who had so nearly effected his +destruction. + +Emma listened in full sympathy, with his hand clasped in hers; and no +retrospective jealousy disturbed the serenity of her loving and trusting +spirit. + +And at the close of the story she silently raised his hand and pressed +it to her heart. That was her only comment. And the subject was never +afterward mentioned between the two. + +Then it was that Joseph Brent made his identity known to Alden Lytton, +Emma and Laura, as it had long been known to Mr. Lyle, his friend, and +to Electra, his wife. And Emma and Laura wept anew over the long past +sorrows of poor Victor Hartman. + +Alden grasped his hand in earnest gratitude and friendship. + +"And it is to _you_," he said, "that my sister and myself owe all our +present happiness. You thought for us, planned for us, toiled for us, +made us even as your own children, simply because you were falsely +accused of having made us fatherless!" he said, as the generous tears +filled his eyes. + +"I did all this because, but for the mercy of Heaven, a mad blow of +mine _might_ have made you fatherless, as it nearly did," answered +Victor Hartman. + +"Do you know who really struck the fatal blow and why it was struck?" + +"No; I know neither one nor the other." + +"Then you shall learn, for now is the time to speak," said Alden Lytton. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + +WHO KILLED HENRY LYTTON--FATE OF MARY GREY. + + +In pursuance of his promise to tell who killed his father, Alden Lytton +said: + +"One hardly knows how to begin so painful a story. But here it is. You +may have heard of a wild, handsome ne'er-do-weel who kept the White +Perch Point hotel and married a relative of the Cavendish family?" + +"Oh, yes, of course! He was the husband of this widow lady who lives +here." + +"The same. They had one child, a daughter, said to have been as +beautiful as the mother, and as wild and reckless as the father. Out of +pure deviltry, as it would seem, this girl ran away from her +boarding-school in company with an unprincipled young play-actor, who +afterward abandoned her. Soon after this my dear father, who had known +her parents and herself, too, met and recognized her under the most +painful circumstances. He was deeply shocked, and almost with a father's +authority he insisted on taking her home to his own house and sending +for her friends. She was but a child. She knew, also, that, being a +minor, she was liable to be taken in custody, upon complaint made, and +forcibly restored to her family. But she was full of duplicity. She +affected to consent to return to her parents, and allowed my father to +bring her back as far as his own house, whence he wrote a letter to her +father telling him of the whereabouts of his daughter, and asking him to +come and receive her at his hands. But the very day upon which this +letter was mailed two events occurred to frustrate the good intentions +of the writer. Ivy Fanning ran away from Fairview, my father's villa. +And Mr. Fanning, having heard from the principal of the school from +which his daughter had eloped, came furiously to town in search of the +fugitive. Most unfortunately, he ascertained beyond a doubt that his +daughter was living at Fairview, whither she had been taken by the +master of the house, Mr. Henry Lytton. Mistaking altogether the +situation, believing my dear father to have been the first abductor of +the girl, he waylaid him and struck that fatal blow which caused his +death, and which had so nearly cost you, also, your life. + +"After committing this dreadful deed, the guilty man fled to his own +home, where he found awaiting him the letter from Mr. Lytton explaining +everything. + +"After this his remorse knew no bounds. But ah, he was a coward! He +dared not meet the penalty of his crime. He saw another man condemned to +die for his offense, yet he dared not confess and save the guiltless. He +tried indirect ways. He wrote anonymous letters to the governor. And +when at last he found that these had no effect, and the day of execution +drew very near, he came by night to this house, and in a private +interview with Governor Cavendish, after binding him to a temporary +secrecy, he confessed himself the murderer of Henry Lytton and +related all the circumstances that led to the tragedy. + +"This confession, made as it was under the seal of temporary secrecy, +placed the late Governor Cavendish in a false position. + +"He could not permit an innocent man to be executed for the crime of a +guilty one. Nor could he, being bound to secrecy, expose the guilty. He +was, therefore, compelled to pardon the supposed murderer, without +giving any explanation to outraged public sentiment for the strangeness +of his action. Such was the explanation made to me by the late Governor +Cavendish, with the stipulation that I should keep the secret during the +natural life of Frederick Fanning--which he felt sure could not be of +long duration--and also that afterward I should reveal it to you, if +ever I should happen to meet you. That is all, my dear friend and +benefactor. And some day, when the poor old lady upstairs shall have +passed away to her heavenly home, this story, which is your vindication, +shall be published to the world. And the name of Victor Hartman, which +you have renounced and declared to be dead and buried, shall be rescued +from unmerited reproach and crowned with merited honor." + +While yet they spoke together, there was heard a loud knocking at the +hall door. And the next moment Jerome, the hall footman, who had +immediately opened the door, entered the drawing-room, saying that there +was a messenger from the Reindeer with a note for Mrs. Fanning on a +matter of life and death. + +Mr. Lytton immediately went out to see the messenger, who proved to be +no other than Mithridates, or Taters, once the slave of Frederick +Fanning, some time the hired servant of John Lytton, and now the hostler +at the Reindeer. + +"Well, Taters, what is it? Mrs. Fanning has gone to bed, and we don't +like to disturb her at this hour of the night," said Mr. Lytton. + +"Oh, marster, you'll have to 'sturb her nebbertheless and +notwivstandin'," said the weeping boy, "because my young missis, which +wasn't a ghost after all, but was a libbin' 'oman when I see her here, +is a-dyin' now, at the Reindeer, and wants to see her mudder." + +"What on earth are you talking about, boy?" inquired the bewildered man. + +"Miss Iby Fannin', sir! My young mist'ess as used to was! She be a-dyin' +at de Reindeer and wants to see her mudder, Missis Fannin', my ole +missis, wot libs here," explained the boy, bursting into fresh sobs and +tears. + +"Ivy Fanning, the long missing girl, supposed to be dead--dying now at +the Reindeer?" + +"Yes, sir--yes, sir! And if you don't make haste and tell my ole missis +she'll be dead before her mudder can get to her," sobbed the faithful +boy. + +"Sit down here and wait," said Mr. Lytton, who now understood the +emergency. + +And, leaving the boy seated in the hall, he went into the drawing-room +and told Emma the surprising news that Ivy Fanning, the long-lost, +erring daughter of Frederick and Katharine Fanning, and the unworthy +cousin of Emma Cavendish--Ivy Fanning, whose faults had caused so much +misery to all connected with her--Ivy Fanning, supposed to be dead long +ago, was now lying at the point of death at the Reindeer Hotel, and +begging to see her poor, wronged mother! + +"What a terrible thing to tell Aunt Katharine, when we rouse her up at +the dead of night!" exclaimed Emma, with a shudder. + +"And yet, my dear one, it is your duty to do that very terrible thing. +Go bravely and do it, my love, while I go and order the most comfortable +carriage in the stable to convey the poor lady to Wendover," said Alden +Lytton, encouragingly. + +Emma went to Mrs. Fanning's room and waked her up, telling her at first, +very gently, that she was wanted. + +The poor woman, jumping to the conclusion that some one of the household +servants was ill and in need of her ministrations, got up at once and +inquired who it was. + +"It is a friend of yours who is ill at the Reindeer Hotel at Wendover, +and desires to see you," said Emma, beginning gently to break to the +poor mother the news that it was her dying daughter who had sent for +her. + +"Friend? I am sure I have no friend who is near enough to send for me, +at dead of night, to come sixteen miles to see him, or her, as the case +may be," said the widow, looking very much perplexed, as she hastened to +put on her clothes. + +"I should have said a relative--a very near relative--a long-lost--" +began Emma, but her voice broke down in sobs. + +"It is Ivy!" exclaimed Mrs. Fanning, as a swift intuition revealed to +her the truth. + +"Yes, it is Ivy," wept Emma, throwing her arms around the afflicted +woman. "And oh, is it not better so--better at once to know her fate, +even to know her safe in the peace of death, than to go on enduring this +dreadful uncertainty about her?" + +"Oh, my child, my child! Oh, my child, my child!" wept the poor mother, +scarcely able, through sobs and tears, and failings of heart and frame, +to complete her simple toilet. + +Emma, with great sympathy and tenderness, assisted her to dress, pinned +the shawl around her shoulders, tied the bonnet strings under her chin, +and brought her her gloves and pocket-handkerchief. + +"I will now run and get my hat and sack, Aunt Katharine. I will go with +you to Wendover," she said. + +"You go with me? My dear child, you have been so long parted from your +husband, and only received him back to-night, and leave him to go with +me? No, no! I can not permit you to do so, Emma," said the weeping lady. + +"But you need me, Aunt Katharine, and I should be utterly unworthy of my +dear Alden's love if I could fail you in your time of trouble. Besides, +I think Alden, also, will go back with you to Wendover." + +"Heaven bless you both! You are the solace of my sad old age," said the +widow, earnestly. + +Emma ran out, and soon returned prepared for her sudden night ride. + +Then she took her poor aunt's arm within her own and supported her as +they walked down-stairs together. + +In the hall below they met Alden Lytton, also prepared for the journey. + +He did not seem at all surprised to see Emma in her hat and _paletot_. +He understood her too well for that. He merely inquired if the ladies +were both quite ready. And being answered in the affirmative, he took +them out and put them into the carriage, that was immediately started at +a rate that astonished the usually steady-going horses. + +The journey was made almost in silence. Mrs. Fanning wept quietly behind +her pocket-handkerchief, and Alden and Emma sat with their hands clasped +in each other's in mute sympathy. + +It was some time after midnight when the carriage entered Wendover and +drew up before the old Reindeer Hotel. + +Lights about the house at that hour showed that something very unusual +was transpiring within. + +Hezekiah Greenfield himself came out to meet the party from Blue Cliffs. + +With much gravity he greeted them, and to Mrs. Fanning's agonized +inquiries about her daughter, he answered: + +"I can't well tell you how she is, ma'am. But I will call Sukey, and she +will take you to her." + +He then conducted them into the parlor and went out in search of his +wife. + +Very soon good Mrs. Greenfield came waddling in. + +Mrs. Fanning arose and hurried to meet her, eagerly inquiring: + +"How is my child? How is she now? Does she still live?" + +"Yes, ma'am, she is alive, and when she sent for you she was still in +her right senses; but now she is wandering, poor girl, and imagines +herself still to be living at Peerch P'int," answered the weeping woman, +as she took the poor mother's hand to lead her to her daughter. + +She led her to a spacious upper chamber, dimly lighted by a single +taper, where on a white bed lay extended the form of the dying girl. + +"Ivy, my darling! My darling Ivy, do you know me?" tenderly whispered +the poor mother, taking her erring daughter's wasted hand and gazing +into the fading face, nothing but love and sorrow and forgiveness in her +heart. + +"Is that you, mamma? Is it near morning? I'm so glad!" said the dying +girl, panting as she spoke. "Oh, I've had such a dreadful dream, +mamma--such a long, dreadful dream! I dreamed of doing such horrible and +wicked things--that I never could have done in my waking hours. I have +lived long years in last night's dreadful dream. I am glad it is +morning. Kiss me, mamma." + +These were her last words, panted forth with her last breath. The +mother's kiss fell upon "unanswering clay." + +Katharine Fanning was borne in a fainting condition from the death-bed +of her daughter and conveyed to another chamber, where she received the +most sympathetic and affectionate ministrations from Emma and Alden +Lytton. + +But it was not until Alden and Emma saw the face of that sinful child of +passion in her coffin that they knew Ivy Fanning and Mary Grey to be one +and the same person. + +Her remains were laid in the family vault at Blue Cliffs, where, before +many weeks had passed, the body of her brokenhearted mother was laid +beside them. + +Craven Kyte was never clearly certain whether he was himself a widower +or a bachelor. But in either character he was free. And the first use he +made of his freedom was to go to White Perch Point and propose to the +brave little maiden of the light-house, who was his last love, as she +had been his first. + +And soon he made her his wife, and brought her and her aged relative +away from their bleak home and dangerous duties and settled them in a +pretty rural cottage within easy walking distance of his own thriving +place of business--the fashionable bazaar of "Bastiennello & Kyte." + +The two young brides, Laura and Electra, were taken to Europe by their +husbands, and reached Paris in time to be present at the great World's +Fair. And before they returned Victor Hartman's story was published to +the world, and his fame was fully vindicated. + + +THE END. + + + * * * * * + + +Reasons why you should obtain a Catalogue of our Publications + +_A postal to us will place it in your hands_ + + +1. You will possess a comprehensive and classified list of all the best +standard books published, at prices less than offered by others. + +2. You will find listed in our catalogue books on every topic: Poetry, +Fiction, Romance, Travel, Adventure, Humor, Science, History, Religion, +Biography, Drama, etc., besides Dictionaries and Manuals, Bibles, +Recitation and Hand Books, Sets, Octavos, Presentation Books and +Juvenile and Nursery Literature in immense variety. + +3. You will be able to purchase books at prices within your reach; as +low as 10 cents for paper covered books, to $5.00 for books bound in +cloth or leather, adaptable for gift and presentation purposes, to suit +the tastes of the most critical. + +4. You will save considerable money by taking advantage of our SPECIAL +DISCOUNTS, which we offer to those whose purchases are large enough to +warrant us in making a reduction. + +HURST & CO., _Publishers_, + +395, 397, 399 Broadway, New York. + + + * * * * * + + +Southworth Books + +All by E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +A charming novelist, whose writings are brimful of action. Mrs. +Southworth is the magnet around which other novelists centre. +We publish twenty-seven of her best works. The titles are: + + Allworth Abbey. + Beautiful Fiend, A. + Bride's Fate, The. + Bride of Llewellyn. + Capitola, the Madcap. + Changed Brides. + Cruel as the Grave. + Curse of Clifton, The. + Deserted Wife. + Discarded Daughter. + Hidden Hand. + India. + Ishmael; or, In the Depths. + Lost Heiress, The. + Lost Heir of Linlithgow. + Miriam the Avenger. + Missing Bride, The. + Mother-in-Law, The. + Mystery of a Dark Hollow. + Noble Lord. + Retribution. + Self-Raised; or, From the Depths. + Three Beauties, The. + Tried for Her Life. + Victor's Triumph. + Vivia. + Widow's Son. + +Price, 50c. per volume, (COST OF MAILING INCLUDED.) + +Our complete catalogue is yours by asking for it. + +HURST & CO., Publishers, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + + +Gunter's Novels + +There are some people to be found who have never read "Mr. Barnes of New +York" and "Mr. Potter of Texas," by that fascinating writer of vivid and +satisfying stories, ARCHIBALD CLAVERING GUNTER, and yet millions have +been circulated of his popular works. Get acquainted with him by +purchasing one or more of his thirty-five books named below: + + A Prince in the Garret. + The Man Behind the Door. + Phil. Conway. + The Conscience of a King. + The Surprises of an Empty Hotel. + The Spy Company. + The City of Mystery. + The Deacon's Second Wind. + Tangled Flags. + The Princess of Copper. + Adrienne de Portalis. + The Fighting Troubadour. + M. S. Bradford, Special. + Jack Curzon. + A Lost American. + Mr. Barnes of New York. + Mr. Potter of Texas. + Miss Nobody of Nowhere. + That Frenchman. + Miss Dividends. + Baron Montez of Panama and Paris. + The King's Stockbroker. + The First of the English. + The Ladies' Juggernaut. + Her Senator. + Don Balasco of Key West. + Bob Covington. + Susan Turnbull. + Ballyho Bey. + Billy Hamilton. + My Japanese Prince. + A Florida Enchantment. + How I Escaped. + The Love Adventures of Almansur. + +PRICES: Cloth Bound Edition, 50c. Paper Covers, 25c. +(Postage paid in either case.) + +Our complete catalogue in your hands saves you +money. It is yours for the asking. + +HURST & CO., Publishers, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + + +Louisa May Alcott's Works + +Author of "Little Men" and "Little Women" + +No library for girls is complete without the works of this celebrated +authoress in it. Books absolutely wholesome and sought and eagerly read +by girls everywhere. + + A Modern Cinderella. Louisa May Alcott + Flower Fables. Louisa May Alcott + Hospital Sketches. Louisa May Alcott + Moods. Louisa May Alcott + +Books by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, another famous authoress whom girls +delight in: + + Faith Gartney's Girlhood. Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney + Gayworthys. Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney + +Any book sent postpaid, upon receipt of Fifty Cents. + +Our complete catalogue mailed anywhere. + +HURST & CO., Publishers, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as +possible, including obsolete and variant spellings. Obvious +typographical errors in punctuation (misplaced quotes and the like) have +been fixed. Corrections [in brackets] in the text are noted below: + +throughout: + + Katherine/Katharine Fanning spelled with an "e" at the beginning + of the novel and with an "a" at the end; it is the same person. + +page 8: typo corrected + + "Oh, the same sin of helplessnss[helplessness] and cowardice; + the same fear of discovery and exposure; the same horror of + +page 13: added missing " + + too. For see how easily she falls into error. She ought to marry + some good, wise, elderly man, who could be her guide, + philosopher and friend as well as husband.["] + +page 22: typo corrected + + in hand, stood with Emma Cavendish in the hall waiting for Mrs. + Gray[Grey], to whom they had sent a message inviting her to come + down and see the traveler off. + +page 41: added missing " + + "Yes; but, my dear, she must have this change now, + immediately.["] + +page 45: added missing " + + ["]I would restore to her all that she has lost, if I could. I + would give her back husband, daughter, home and competence," + said Emma. + +page 54: added missing " + + Jerome, if that's his name, very gravely, with a silent bow, put + up the steps and closed the door and mounted his box and drove + off.["] + +page 72: typo corrected + + She proposed this plan to her hostess, who at first opposed the + self-sacrifice, as she called it. But finally, being + pursuaded[persuaded] by Mary Grey, she yielded the point, and + +page 76: added missing " + + "Yes, it is from your unknown guardian.["] + +page 104: corrected punctuation typo + + The pastor expressed himself highly gratified, and added.[:] + +page 109: corrected and added missing punctuation + + "MARIA WHEATFIELD,[."] + +page 111: corrected quote + + "Yours truly, M. GREY.'["] + +page 115: added missing " + + "Hush--hush!" she murmured. ["]Be quiet! There are people in the + next room. They may hear you. And I am sure they should do so + they would take you for a lunatic." + +page 118: added missing punctuation + + "Yes; but don't cry out so loud--that's a dear! I repeat, there + are people in the next room[.] But you have not yet answered my + question." + +page 126: suggested possible missing word + + "I am tired of walking. And here is a vacant house placarded 'To + Let,' with a nice long porch in front. Come, let [us] go in and + sit down on one of the benches and rest." + +page 140: added missing " + + as I always get frightened and lose my presence of mind in the + terrible uproar of a steamboat landing or a railway station.["] + +page 146: typo corrected + + Her devoted slave was waiting for here[her] there. And on the + table, in addition to the other comforts, there was a little + +page break between 150-151: added missing end of word + + his companion, and the lovely youthful widow, who was lis- + + [Page 163 in TIA copy of a different publisher/edition + (www.archive.org/details/victorstriumphse00soutrich) shows only + "-ening" is missing here.] + + to him with such rapt attention, were a pair of happy and + devoted lovers. + +page 188: added missing " + + telegram from the agent, which he supposed to be a magical + answer to your message.["] + +page 213: added missing " + + "I said that you were my prisoner, Mr. Alden Lytton," answered + the deputy-sheriff, gravely. "I repeat that you are my + prisoner.["] + +page 222: typos corrected + + "Gn[On] my sacred oath I most solemnly declare that you are the + man and she is the woman I then and there united together," + + with fierce indignation, "all I have further to say is + this--that you have basely purjured[perjured] yourself to assist + and support an infamous conspiracy!" + +page 238: added missing punctuation + + Church of St. ----, in the city of Philadelphia, on the + fifteenth day of September last, between the hours of twelve + and one p. m[.]," said the counsel. + +page 246: duplicate word removed + + her father telling him of the whereabouts of his daughter, and + asking him to come and receive her at [at] his hands. But the + very day upon which this letter was mailed two events occurred + +page 247: typo corrected + + a coward! He dared not meet the penalty of his crime. He saw + another man condemed[condemned] to die for his offense, yet he + dared not confess and save the guiltless. He tried indirect + +page 247: duplicate word removed + + secrecy, he confessed himself the murderer of [of] Henry Lytton + and related all the circumstances that led to the tragedy. + +page 250: typo corrected + + inquired if the ladies were both quite ready. And being answered + in the affimative[affirmative], he took them out and put them + into the carriage, that was immediately started at a rate that + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Victor's Triumph, by Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VICTOR'S TRIUMPH *** + +***** This file should be named 29729.txt or 29729.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/7/2/29729/ + +Produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |