Gertrude Leith having done what she could for the happiness of others,
prepared to take her own departure.
"You will not leave us, my dear, true friend, my second mother," Golden
exclaimed, as she came in veiled and bonneted, to bid her good-bye.
"Yes, dear, it will be better for a time, at least, that I should go
away. I shall return north and go back to those quiet quarters in
Brooklyn, where you and I spent those peaceful weeks before we came
south. When you come to New York with your husband you will find me
there."
"I will certainly seek you out," Golden replied. "But surely you do not
intend to forsake my father. The doubt and perplexity are all over now.
You know that you are legally his wife, my own mother being dead before
he ever knew you."
"Yes, I know, dear," she answered, gently. "Yet it is best I should
go away for a time. Your father must have time for his grief. After
awhile, if he desires it, I may return to him."
Her words were too full of wisdom for anyone to gainsay them, so she
went away.
Richard Leith's grief and remorse over his lost little Golden was as
deep and passionate as if she had died yesterday instead of more than
sixteen years ago.
He was too sorrowful to remember the fair woman he had put in the dead
wife's place in the vain hope of stilling the fever and pain that had
ached ceaselessly at his heart for sixteen years.
The time came later on when the first wife's memory became a sweet
and chastened dream to him, and his second wife's new loveliness of
character won its place in his heart.
Some years of quiet happiness and mutual love came to them after
they learned to know each other better, but there was no year in
which Richard Leith did not return south once, at least, to spend a
few solemn hours by the low grave under the whispering cedars and
broad-leaved magnolias, where the broken marble shaft bore the fond
inscription:
"IN LOVING MEMORY OF GOLDEN,
WIFE OF RICHARD LEITH."
There was one other to whom that green grave became like a shrine, a
holy Mecca, to which his poor, faltering footsteps were daily bent.
It was old Hugh Glenalvan, whom old Dinah daily guided to the sacred
spot, where he would sit for hours, his gray locks fluttering in the
gentle breeze, meditating, or perhaps holding spirit communion with the
sainted dead.
It was discovered on the day of Golden Leith's burial that John
Glenalvan and his whole family had secretly left the house the night
previous.
A week later a letter came from the villain to Bertram Chesleigh,
offering to sell Glenalvan Hall on fair terms, and stating that he
should never live in the south again.
A bargain was closed at once, and Bertram Chesleigh became the
possessor of the old hall, which was speedily repaired and remodeled
under the supervision of himself and his lovely young wife.
Before the work was completed a chance newspaper chronicled the fact of
a distressing railway accident and among the list of killed appeared
the name of John Glenalvan.
Bertram and Golden destroyed the newspaper, and old Hugh never knew
that his wicked son had gone suddenly and without preparation into the
presence of his august Maker.
The old man's life flowed on in sweet serenity. All his happiness was
centered in the living Golden, and beside the grave of the dead one.
While he lived, Golden and her husband made their home at Glenalvan
Hall, but after several years of quiet peace the white soul of the
noble old man took on the wings of immortality, and soared to its
Heavenly home through the open gates of the sunset.
They made him a grave by his daughter's side, and when the grass was
growing green upon his grave they took old Dinah with them and turned
their faces northward.
Black mammy had become reconciled to Mr. Chesleigh when she saw how
happy he made her little missie. Her kind and wrinkled old visage
reflected the radiant happiness that shone on Golden's beautiful face.
She waited on her kindly and devotedly as ever, declaring that no
starched-up French maid should ever take her place while she lived, and
Golden, with a shuddering remembrance of the wicked Celine's treachery,
always assured her "old mammy" that she need never fear such an
intruder on her privileges.
The day came when one of the most beautiful and palatial homes in New
York opened wide its doors to receive Bertram Chesleigh's fair wife as
its honored mistress.
Though Golden had seen some of the stately homes of New York she was
astonished at the luxury and magnificence of her own.
Mr. Chesleigh smiled indulgently at her pretty, childish delight as
he led her through suite after suite of the sumptuous, luxurious
apartments the day after their arrival.
"I am glad you are so pleased with your new home," he said, "but now,
my darling, you must run away and let black mammy dress you. I have
invited a few guests to dinner."
"Strangers?" she asked, with a shy pretty blush on the exquisite face
that was fresh and sweet as a rosebud with only that pensive droop of
the golden-brown lashes to hint at the sorrow through which she had
passed.
"Not exactly,'" he replied with a smile. "Lawyer Leith and his wife,
Mr. and Mrs. Desmond, and little Ruby. I think you will be glad to see
her, though she must have tyrannized over you dreadfully in the old
days."
"A dear little tyrant she was," laughed Mrs. Chesleigh. "I shall be
very pleased to see her again."
She went to her dressing-room, and a loving remembrance of some things
the child had said to her once, caused her to choose a lovely dress
of white and blue, with large, gleaming white pearls for her neck and
wrists, and knots of fragrance-breathing violets fastened among her
creamy laces.
Bertram uttered a cry of delight when she came to him in the
drawing-room in the beautiful dress with the golden curls framing the
perfect face in a halo of light.
She looked beyond him and saw her father and his wife gazing at her
with eyes full of love and wonder, and she sprang joyfully to their
embrace.
Mrs. Leith released her after some low-murmured words of love and
praise, and she saw her husband's sister by her side.
Mrs. Desmond had grown more brilliantly lovely than ever. Happiness and
contentment had lent new radiance to the lovely face, but there was a
wistful air, almost amounting to humility, about her as she extended
her jeweled hand, and said, sweetly:
"My dear little sister, can you ever forgive me?"
"Freely," she said, clasping the offered hand, and proffering the kiss
of peace.
"And me, too--I am deeply repentant," said a low voice beside Mrs.
Desmond, and looking up, Golden saw Mr. Desmond, debonairly handsome
as ever, but so humble and ashamed that even a harder heart than our
little Golden's must have pardoned his folly.
Then Ruby took possession of her and gave her a bear-like hug.
"Oh, you darling," she cried, "I have missed you so much, and to think
you were Uncle Bert's wife all the while. It is just like one of
mamma's novels that she is always reading. I warn you, Uncle Bert, that
I shall make you jealous, I shall stay with her so much. And I do so
want to see that dear old black mammy I have heard about."
Her childish curiosity was gratified, and the New York child, after her
first surprise, grew very fond of the good-natured, old negress who had
been Golden's nurse from babyhood up.
"I do not have a nurse any more," she confided to Golden. "They have
hired a governess for me, and I like to study. It improves my temper."
"Which was never very bad," smiled Golden, kissing the pretty little
brunette.
"When you go into society you will be surprised to meet Elinor
Glenalvan again," Mrs. Desmond said to her after awhile. "She has
picked up a rich, old man somewhere, and is Mrs. Langley now. Six
months ago she burst upon society in a blaze of glory, and at present
she is considered the handsomest woman in New York. But her star will
fade when you are introduced to the social world."
Soon afterward the two cousins met at a brilliant reception. Both
looked their best, Elinor in Ruby velvet and diamonds, Golden in
misty, white lace and pearls, Elinor just touched with the tips of her
fingers the arm of her decrepit old spouse, Golden clung lovingly to
her princely-looking and devoted husband. As they passed each other
Mrs. Langley cast one look of bitter hatred and envy upon her fair,
angelic-looking rival.
It was as Mrs. Desmond had predicted. Elinor's star paled before the
superior loveliness of Golden, and in bitter anger and chagrin, the
eclipsed beauty retired from the field, and removed to a distant city,
where she was seen and heard of no more by those who had formerly known
her.
Little Golden was glad when her enemy was gone, but she felt no vanity
over her brilliant social successes. Her chief joy and pride was that
she reigned queen over her husband's adoring heart.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
This story was originally serialized in the _Family Story Paper_, where
it ran from June 5, 1882 to September 4, 1882. This e-text is derived
from a later reprint as No. 218 in _The Favorite Library_ published by
The American News Company. The reprint edition also included two filler
short stories: "A Mock Idyl" by Percy Ross and "Farewell" by W. H.
Stacpoole. The filler stories are not included here.
A table of contents was added for the convenience of the reader.
Some inconsistent punctuation was retained (e.g. "Life Time" vs.
"Life-Time" in title; "upturned" vs. "up-turned").
Some inconsistently italicized text was retained (e.g. "rencontre").
Some unusual spellings were retained (e.g. "exhult," "ballustrade").
Accent marks to match original were omitted (e.g. "protege").
Italics are represented with _underscores_.
Page 3, changed "herelf" to "herself."
Page 4, changed "to hasty" to "too hasty."
Page 6, added missing quote before "Oh, grandpa."
Page 13, changed "strangly" to "strangely."
Page 17, changed "recounter" to "rencontre."
Page 22, changed "neverspeak" to "never speak."
Page 24, changed "aughs" to "laughs."
Page 27, added comma after "Oh, my darlin'."
Page 29, changed "founding" to "foundling" and changed ? to ! after
"the girl is my niece."
Page 31, changed "furthur intercouse" to "further intercourse."
Page 37, changed "matin" to "mating."
Page 38, added missing quote after "Jest wait one minute, darlin'."
Page 42, changed "struggled" to "straggled."
Page 48, changed "greatsest" to "greatest."
Page 54, added missing quote before "He likes pretty faces."
Page 55, changed "flirted" to "flitted."
Page 56, changed "you hair" to "your hair."
Page 60, changed "must not thing" to "must not think."
Page 61, changed "significent" to "significant."
Page 66, changed "thoughfully" to "thoughtfully."
Page 75, removed extra "the" from "It is the the truth."
Page 80, changed "Your know" to "You know" and "father as" to "father
has."
Page 83, changed "distress" to "mistress."
Page 84, changed ? to ! in "you are mistaken!"
Page 85, added missing quote before "Go, and take."
Page 87, changed "her her husband" to "her husband."
Page 91, changed "idendity" to "identity," "Lieth" to "Leith,"
"Bestram" to "Bertram," "maked" to "marked" and "cousse" to "course."
Page 97, changed "cempetence" to "competence."
Page 101, changed "gazedw onderingly" to "gazed wonderingly."
Page 102, changed "perference" to "preference," "you wife" to "your
wife," and "guilty of his" to "guilty of this."
Page 104, changed "delerious" to "delirious."
Page 106, added missing open quote before "I wonder how."
Page 107, changed "bess" to "bless."
Page 110, changed "prostate" to "prostrate."
Page 111, added missing quote before "I _know_."
Page 112, changed "Lieth's" to "Leith's," "Lieth" to "Leith" and
"idict" to "indict."
Page 113, changed "as last" to "at last."
Page 116, adding missing comma after "for God's sake" and changed
"unable so bear" to "unable to bear."
Page 117, added missing quote after "seen her even once."
Page 118, changed "requim" to "requiem."
Page 120, added missing quote after "absent for several days."
Page 124, changed "Lieth" and "Keith" to "Leith."
Page 127, changed "queit" to "quiet."
Page 128, changed "No?" to "No!"
Page 129, changed "belive" to "believe."
Page 130, changed "hated" to "hatred."
Page 139, changed "uncle Bert" to "Uncle Bert."