"MY DARLING, YOU ARE FREE!"
The young man regarded her with astonishment, for she had never
greeted him so warmly before.
Edith saw his look and met it with a blush. She took his hat, then led
him directly to Mrs. Stewart.
"Roy, you will be astonished," she remarked, "but my first duty is to
introduce you to--my mother."
With a look of blank amazement, the young man mechanically put out his
hand to greet the beautiful woman who approached and graciously
welcomed him.
"That was rather an abrupt and startling announcement, Mr. Bryant,"
she smilingly remarked, to cover his confusion; "but pray be seated
and we will soon explain the mysterious situation."
"Pardon my bewilderment," said the young man, as he bowed over her
extended hand; "but really, ladies, I am free to confess that you have
almost taken my breath away."
"Then you will know how to sympathize with us," cried Edith, with a
silvery little laugh, "for we have both been in the same condition
during the last few hours."
"Indeed! Then I must say you look very bright for a person who has not
breathed for 'hours,'" he retorted, as he began to recover himself.
"Well, figuratively speaking, our respiration has been retarded many
times, during a short interval, by the strangest developments
imaginable," Edith explained. "But how did you trace me to the
Waldorf?"
"I had something important to tell you, so ran up to Nellie's to see
you, but was told that you had accompanied Mrs. Stewart thither," Roy
explained. "I hope, however, I shall be pardoned for interrupting your
interview," he concluded with an apologetic glance at the elder lady.
"Certainly; and, strange to say, we were speaking of you almost at the
moment that your card was brought to us," she returned. "Edith has had
an important communication handed her to-day, which I thought you
ought to have, since you are her attorney, without any unnecessary
delay."
"Oh! it is most wonderful, Roy! This is it," said the young girl,
producing it from her pocket. "But first I must tell you that in Mrs.
Stewart I have discovered mamma's old friend--the writer of those
letters of which I told you. She did not die in Rome, as was feared."
"Can that be possible?" exclaimed Mr. Bryant.
"Yes, dear. It is a long story, and I cannot stop to tell it all now,"
Edith went on, eagerly, "but I must explain that she has discovered an
important document that proves what makes me the happiest girl in New
York to-day. We met at Mrs. Wallace's this afternoon, where some one
addressed me as Miss Allandale, when she instantly knew that I must be
her child. Isn't it all too wonderful to seem true?"
After chatting a little longer over the wonderful revelations, he
suddenly remembered the "important communication" which Mrs. Stewart
had mentioned.
"What was the matter of business which you felt needed early
consideration?" he inquired.
Instantly Edith's lovely face was suffused with blushes, and Mrs.
Stewart, thinking it would be wise to leave the lovers alone during
the forthcoming explanations, excused herself and quietly slipped into
an adjoining room.
Edith immediately went to the young man's side and gave her letter to
him.
"Roy, this is even more wonderful than what I have already told you,"
she gravely remarked. "Read it; it will explain itself better than any
words of mine can do."
He drew the contents from the envelope, and began at once to read the
following confession:
"For the sake of performing one right act in my life, I wish
to make the following statement, namely: I hereby declare
that the marriage of my brother, Emil Correlli, to Miss
Edith Allen, who, for several weeks, has acted as my
companion, was not a legal ceremony, inasmuch as it was
accomplished solely by fraud and treachery. Miss Allen was
tricked into it by being overpersuaded to personate a
supposed character in a play, entitled 'The Masked Bridal.'
The play was written and acted before a large audience for
the sole purpose of deceiving Miss Allen and making her the
wife of my brother, whom she had absolutely refused to
marry, but who was determined to carry his point at all
hazards. Motives of affection for him, and of jealousy, on
account of my husband's apparent fondness for the girl,
alone prompted me to aid him in his bold design. I hereby
declare again that it was all a trick, from beginning to
end, and it was only by my indomitable will, and by working
upon Miss Allen's sympathies, that I was enabled to carry
out my purpose." (Then followed a detailed account of the
plot of the play and its concluding ceremony, after which
the document closed as follows): "I am impressed that I have
not long to live; and wishing, if it can be done, to right
this great wrong, and make it possible for the proper
officials to declare Miss Allen freed from her bonds, I make
this confession of a fraud that weighs too heavily upon my
conscience to be borne.
"ANNA CORRELLI GODDARD."
The above was dated the day previous to that of madam's death, and
underneath she had appended a few lines to Mr. Goddard, stating that
she knew he was in sympathy with Edith; therefore she should leave the
epistle with her lawyer, to be given to him, in the event of her
death, and she enjoined him to see that justice was done the girl whom
she had injured.
This was the missive that the lawyer had passed to Mr. Goddard at the
same time that he had read the woman's will in the presence of her
husband and Emil Correlli, and over which, as we have seen, he
afterward became so strangely agitated.
We know how he had hurriedly removed from his former elegant home to a
habitation on another street; after which, instead of going abroad, as
the papers had stated, he had gone directly to New York, upon the same
quest as Emil Correlli, but with a very different purpose in
view--that of giving to Edith the precious document that was to
declare her free from the man whom she loathed.
He could get no trace of her, however; unlike Correlli, he had no
knowledge of her acquaintance with Royal Bryant, and therefore all he
could do was to carry the letter about with him, wherever he went, in
the hope of some day meeting her upon the street, or elsewhere.
One day he was out at Central Park, when he suddenly came upon a
former friend--Mrs. Wallace--who immediately announced to him her
intention of arranging a charitable art exhibition and solicited
contributions from him to aid her in the good work.
Thus the appearance of that bit of old "Roman Wall" is accounted for,
as well as the presence of Mr. Goddard himself, who was particularly
requested by Mrs. Wallace to honor the occasion, and allow her to
introduce him to some of her friends.
It would be difficult to describe the terrible shock which the man
sustained when he heard Edith addressed by and respond to the
name--Miss Allandale.
Like a flash of light it was revealed to him that the beautiful girl
was his own daughter!--that, in her, he had, for months, been
"entertaining an angel unawares," but only to abuse his privilege in a
way to reap her lasting contempt and aversion.
This blighting knowledge was followed by a sense of sickening despair
and misery, when, almost at the same moment, he saw Isabel Stewart
start forward to claim her child and lead her from the room, when he
knew she must learn the wretched truth regarding his life of
selfishness and sin.
As they disappeared from sight, he sank back behind the easel that
supported his Roman picture, groaning in spirit with remorse and
humiliation.
A little later he stole unseen from the room, and, crossing the hall,
opened the door of the reception-room, which he had seen Edith and her
mother enter.
He had determined to give the young girl the letter that would serve
to release her from her hateful fetters; he would, perhaps, experience
some comfort in the thought that he had rendered her this one simple
service that would bring her happiness; then he would go away--hide
himself and his misery from all who knew him, and live out his future
to what purpose he could.
We know how he carried out his resolve regarding the confession of
Anna Correlli; and the picture which met his eye, as he opened that
door and looked upon the mother and daughter clasped in each other's
arms, was one that haunted his memory during the rest of his life.
As soon as Royal Bryant comprehended the import of Anna Correlli's
confession, he turned to Edith with a radiant face and open arms.
"My darling! nothing can keep us apart now!" he murmured, in tones
vibrant with joy, "you are free--free as the air you breathe--free to
give yourself to me! Come!"
With a smile of love and happiness Edith sprang into his embrace and
laid her face upon his breast.
"Oh, Roy!" she breathed, "all this seems too much joy to be real or to
be borne in one day!"
"I think we can manage to endure it," returned her lover, with a fond
smile. "I confess, however, that it seems like a day especially
dedicated to blessings, for I have other good news for you."
"Can it be possible? What more could I ask, or even think of?"
exclaimed Edith, wonderingly.
Roy smiled mysteriously, and returned, with a roguish gleam in his
eyes:
"My news will keep a while--until you give me the pledge I crave, my
darling. You will be my wife, Edith?" he added, with tender
earnestness.
"You know that I will, Roy," she whispered; and, lifting her face to
his, their mutual vows were sealed by their betrothal caress.
The young man drew from an inner pocket a tiny circlet of gold in
which there blazed a flawless stone, clear as a drop of dew, and
slipped it upon the third finger of Edith's left hand.
"I have had it ever since the day after your arrival in New York," he
smilingly remarked, "but coward conscience would not allow me to give
it to you; however, it will prove to you that I was lacking in neither
faith nor hope."
"Now for my good news," he added, after Edith had thanked him, in a
shy, sweet way that thrilled him anew, while he gently drew her to a
seat. "I met Giulia Fiorini on the street this afternoon."
"Oh, Roy! did you?"
"Yes; she is here, searching for Correlli. I recognized her and the
child from your description. I boldly resolved to address her, as I
feared it might be my only opportunity. I did so, asking if I was
right in supposing her to be Madam Fiorini, and told her that I was
searching for her, at your request. She almost wept at the sound of
your name, and eagerly inquired where she could find you. I took her
to my office, where I told her what I wished to prove regarding her
relations with Correlli, and that, if I could accomplish my purpose,
it would give her and the child a claim upon him which he could not
ignore. She at once frankly related her story to me, and stated that
when they had first arrived in New York from Italy, Correlli had taken
her to Madam ----'s boarding-house, where he had made arrangements for
himself, wife and child--"
"Oh, then that settles the question of her claim upon him!" Edith here
interposed, eagerly.
"Yes--if we can prove her statements, and I think we can; for when I
told Giulia of my visit to madam, and how I had failed to elicit the
slightest information from her, she said that she knew where one of
the servants--who was in the house when she went there--could be
found, for she had stumbled across the girl in the street and learned
where she is now living. She gave me her address, and I went
immediately to interview her. Luck was in my favor--the girl was at
home, and remembered the 'pretty Italian girl, who was so sweet-spoken
and polite;' she also knew where her previous fellow-servant could be
found, and asserted that they would both be willing to swear that
madam herself had told them to 'always to be very attentive to the
handsome Italian's wife, for she made more out of them than out of any
of her other boarders.' So, I flatter myself that I have gathered
conclusive evidence against the man," Roy added, in a tone of
satisfaction. "I shall interview Monsieur Correlli at once, and
perhaps, when he realizes that his supposed claim upon you is null and
void, he may be persuaded to do what is right regarding his wife and
child."
The lovers then fell to talking of their own affairs, Edith relating
what she had so recently learned from her mother, and concluded by
mentioning the plan of readoption, suggested by Mrs. Stewart, in order
to avoid the gossip of the world.