After he had seen the doctor leave, William, instead of going to
Augustus, returned directly to Clarissa. He only felt secure regarding
her when he could see her. All the varied scenes through which he passed
seemed like a dream, and he could not rid himself of the impression he
would awaken and find Clarissa gone, leaving him alone again.
He had entirely forgotten Augustus, and in his distracted state of mind
the thought of the shock and surprise it must have been to the boy to
have him declare himself, a comparative stranger, as his father, did not
occur to him. His mind seemed incapable of comprehending or holding more
than one image; he felt the deepest chagrin that he, an expert thought
concentrator, had so lost control of himself as to make such a scene as
he had just gone through with Clarissa to mesmerize her. He had been
obliged to use upon her that which he had never used before upon any
subject he had ever put to sleep:--physical force.
Why was it she resisted his power so strongly, when she had been so
loving and obedient to his very thoughts but a short time before?
As he reached the couch and looked down upon her, a long, deep sigh
escaped him, and the thought passed through his mind: Suppose she had
not been here, but had gone out of his life again: how sad and lonely
and miserable it would be. The very thought was unendurable. He quickly
sank down beside her, holding her close to him, that he might have the
double assurance of sight and touch, of her actual presence with him.
So engrossed was he with the thought, he was unaware of Augustus'
entrance, though the wheel chair made some clatter. He had paused at the
door, expecting an invitation to enter, but receiving none, he came
directly to them and said:
"Mamma,--"
A tremor passed over Clarissa, so strong as to attract William's notice,
while at the same time a hand touched his arm. As he felt the tremor of
Clarissa's body, he tightened his hold, even as he turned his head. He
was impatient of interruption and his eyes did not express the most
pleasant mood as he turned toward the intruder, but when he saw who it
was, his entire countenance changed; he quickly noted the pallor of the
boy, and the brilliant flashing of his eyes, that told so plainly his
intense agitation.
He immediately removed one arm from Clarissa, and before Augustus could
divine his purpose, had lifted him from his chair and drawn him close
to his heart.
"My son--my boy and Clarissa's."
Augustus, taken completely by surprise, said nothing for a time, but his
eyes traveled quickly to his mother's face, which was cold and white and
rigid, then his voice rang out sharp and piercing--"Mamma--mamma--speak
to me--I am here--Augustus--speak to me."
There was no response. Never having seen his mother thus, as she always
devoted her undivided attention to him, he did not understand her apathy
and inattention to his call; he made up his mind she was dead, and this
man had killed her. That thought brought such a wave of anger and fury,
that for all his frailness of body, he had for the time strength to
release himself from William's clasp, and throwing both arms about her
neck, he tried to lift her, repeating over and over, "Mamma,--Mamma
dear, look at me."
The sight of the boy's suffering brought tears to William's eyes, and he
said, "Your mother is sleeping; she cannot hear you. She will waken
soon, and--"
"I hate you. She is not sleeping. She is dead, and you have killed her."
"Augustus, you will be sorry for such a speech. She is sleeping; gaining
strength to make us both happy. Have you no greeting for your father,
who loves you so dearly? I am proud to--"
"If you were very proud, you would go home, and not stay here where you
are not wanted. Mamma--Dinah--Mamma is dead, and--"
"Be quiet, Augustus. Do not shake your mother;--you will? Then I shall
be compelled to use force. I didn't want to do that, but you compelled
me to. Sit quiet and I will wake your mother."
Anyone having the slightest degree of doubt as to the parentage of this
child would have been quickly convinced, if they could have studied
their faces as William and Augustus confronted each other; Augustus'
excited and distorted face was a perfect miniature likeness of his
father's. Eyes flashed into eyes. For all the seriousness of the
condition, William thought, "What a perfect counterpart of my own
temper. He favors me much more than his mother."
He needed no proofs this was his boy, and he felt a thrill of pride. He
had an intense nature that no one understood. Most persons thought him
cold and distant, while in truth, he possessed an unusually affectionate
temperament, but was too proud to admit to anyone how he really hungered
for love. All persons could not supply this want; the whole force of his
nature had centered itself upon one object. She became his wife and no
other woman had ever had power to sway his thoughts and life. He was
regarded as austere and cold, yet could be influenced by this woman's
smile, to do anything man could do, and the pitiful, angered face which
looked into his was his child,--and hers.
For all time he must have second place in her heart, and the pleasure of
wife and child should be his study from this moment. Such thoughts
produced a very different expression upon his face, and he said tenderly
and affectionately,
"Clarissa--Clarissa--Awake."
Slowly her eyes opened. Her face pictured happiness and contentment as
she saw William's smiling welcome; who would have believed his proud,
haughty head could have bowed so humbly as it did when he saw the
bright, glad gleam in her eyes? He stooped to kiss her as though she was
just awakening from a natural sleep. As his arms encircled her, her own
entwined themselves once more around his neck, and with a happy sigh she
gave him kiss for kiss.
Augustus was, for the time, forgotten by both of them, but his eyes and
ears were active; for a time, he remained silent, then a tempest of
jealousy swept over him. He had ever been first in his mother's
thoughts; now he was forgotten for a stranger. His spirit had not been
disciplined to expect only his proper share of any one's attention, for
from the earliest time in his recollection, he had been the principal
object of attention in his home.
His very infirmity and physical weakness spared him criticisms of even
the most wholesome nature; one and all around him had known but one
object in life--to please him. He was totally unaccustomed to being
overlooked in this manner, and his was not a nature to endure this state
of things.
With all the might of his uncultivated and ungoverned will, he hated
this man who was engrossing his mother's attention and love. He raised
himself erect by the help of his hands, and rage nearly choked him as he
said--"Mamma!"
Was there magic in his voice? If not, why did she draw so coldly and
quickly from William's grasp?
"Mamma,--send that man away. I hate him."
"Yes, dear. Do not get nervous, Augustus. There--Mamma's little man is
not angry--"
"Mamma--I hate him. Send him home. He is not my father, is he? You told
me my father was everything noble--everything I loved--I hate that
man--I hate him. Mamma, I will not have him for a father--I will not--"
"Hush, dear."
"I will not hush if he stays here. I will not live with him. Come,
Mamma, let us go away and leave him here--I will make you a fine
picture. Come, Mamma, don't look at him--he is wicked. He sent Dr.
Goullard away--I hate him--hate him."
"Augustus, you will make yourself ill. Hush, dear."
"Don't kiss me all the time. Tell him to leave here. This is our home,
and we don't want him. I will get ill. I will get nervous. When I get
sick, you will know you are to blame for it. If you do not send him off,
I will be ill. He lied. He is not my father--I will not have him for a
father."
"No, dear;--there, be quiet. I will take you to Dinah."
"I will not go to Dinah unless you stay with me. Tell him to go home."
"Yes, dear; only calm yourself. There, the bell is ringing. Some one is
coming, and my little man must not be seen like this. Be yourself, and
you shall have anything you want. Here comes Dinah; let us see who is
here. Dinah, who has called? Augustus is nervous. You had better take
him, and give him some of that medicine for his nerves at once."
"I will not take it. I will not;--not unless you come too."
"Master William, it be someone to see you, and I let him in. Here he
is." William and Clarissa both looked toward the door. There stood
James with a parcel in his hand, his face beaming with pleasure.
Clarissa quickly reached him, and gave him her outstretched hands. He
tore off the covering of the package he carried, offering her a large
bunch of her favorite flowers. This token of affection brought joyful
tears to her eyes, and, still holding one of his hands, she led him to
Augustus, saying, "This is my son, Augustus. Augustus, this is the man
of whom I have so often told you, who was so good and kind to me when I
was a mischievous and wilful girl. These are my favorite flowers; he
always kept them for me, and you will have to hear him tell all about my
girlhood. Will you not, darling? James can tell such lovely stories. He
will tell you the same ones he used to tell me. I feel as though I were
a girl again. Bid him welcome, Augustus."
"I love you because you were so good to mamma. I welcome you to our
home--"
"Bless your heart, honey,--that is what we always called your
mother--there were never two persons who looked so much alike as you and
your father. I will tell you stories that will make your pretty eyes
stick out, all about your mother's naughtiness, picking my choicest
flowers. I remember every one. I never expected to be so happy as I am
this very minute."
"We will have a jolly time. You can wheel me out and tell me the
stories. Do you like my father? Was he a good man? You said I looked
like him, so you must have known him."
"Did I know your father? Was he a good man? There was never his equal.
He is the grandest, noblest, wisest--"
"That will do, James; possibly you can bring your thoughts away from the
past, to the seemingly insignificant present long enough to tell me what
has brought you here, and how you knew where to find me."
At the sound of William's voice, which was severe, James turned at once
and replied, "Forgive me, master, but you told me yourself that our Miss
Clarissa was the famous Miss Earle, the singer, and everyone knows where
she lives. I know no other person would make you leave home and come so
far, so I reckoned I would find you where she was. When you stayed so
long, and there was a telegram came for you, soon followed by another, I
knew it must be something of importance, and I thought I would bring
them to you. I hope you are not angry, sir."
"If you believed them to be so important, why did you not give them to
me at once?"
"Here they are. I admit I was wrong--but I am so happy to see Miss
Clarissa--"
"That is the most disagreeable man I ever saw. He shall not scold you.
Do not mind him. You come with me; I want you to tell me all about my
mother when she was little. I will show you all my pictures. I am so
glad you have come. You just push my chair. Dinah will show you where to
go. You will send him away, and come right along, will you not, mamma?"
"Yes, dear."
"Come: I cannot walk, but I can stand up. I can paint, and draw and
sing. Those were pretty flowers you brought mamma--"
The rest was lost by the closing of a door, which shut out further
sound. Clarissa had kept her eyes upon William's face, ever since
Augustus left her side; there was little to be gleaned from it. His eyes
had not once left the paper before him. As the door closed, he lifted
them and looked straight and steadily at her. There was sufficient power
there to make her shiver. Her hand went quickly to her heart, but her
gaze did not falter--she looked as steadily at him as he did at her. It
was an uncomfortable pause, and William was first to break it.
"I have sad news for you. Your lover, one of the numerous galaxy, is
very ill. I am sent for to restore him to health. Do not looked so
shocked and worried. I will not let him die, as he is my best subject,
and science would receive too rude a blow if Prof. Huskins' acknowledged
best subject should sicken and die, and he be powerless to prevent it.
He shall live; but as I stand here talking to you, I have the power and
will obliterate the memory of every other man from your mind. Pardon me
for so noisy a laugh, but the thought came to me quickly: 'William
Huskins, you have devoted the best years of your life to science and won
the distinction of being the most powerful demonstrator of mesmeric
influence living: now the sole use you find for it is to vanquish the
remembrance of past lovers from a fickle woman's mind, that you may
enjoy her embraces.' Ludicrous enough to make anyone laugh, isn't it?"
"You are talking enigmas. I have and have had no lovers. Your coarse
suggestions are an insult to my womanhood and motherhood. I am truly
sorry for any man who depends upon you for his life; he had better
die--"
"Beware how you try me. You have no idea of the power I possess. Pshaw!
You are doubtless tired of him, and would feel better if he were dead. I
will that he shall not die. He shall live. Possibly your memory can be
refreshed sufficiently to recall the fact that you requested me,--your
husband,--to carry him your favorite flowers, which oppressed you at the
time."
"I shall answer but one assertion you have made--"
"Mamma, come,--I want you to hear something."
"Yes, Augustus, I will be there directly. You said you were my husband;
you are not."
"It would not astonish me much if you told me that I was the second man
who had passed through the marriage ceremony with you."
"You are the only man who has ever entered my life. It is not necessary
for you to wear that sneering and sarcastic smile. I ought to know the
symptoms of your unreasonable jealousy by this time. Once it hurt me;
now I defy you. I am a mother, but I was never a wife. That is the
reason I said that Augustus was not your son. When I told him his father
was dead, I told him the truth. His father was the man whom I idolized
as men worship gods. Keep away. Do not touch me. That man was not the
William Huskins the world knows. He was what I thought you were.
"Your ardor worked upon my ignorant mind, until it created there an
image of a man whose only existence was in my heart, while you, who
passed for him, was in reality his exact opposite. Now you understand
why I say that I am a mother but no wife, for I believe, from the depths
of my soul, that marriage only exists where there is mutual love between
man and woman. I meant well, but--"
"Clarissa, I am going to forget every word you have just said, and
trust you in spite of all the dark appearances; remembering only what
you have said of your love for me before we were married--"
"I never loved nor married you; it was only the image of a man that I
had in my mind. Never for one moment in all your life, have you known
what it was to love me, and we were, therefore, never married. My child
is illegitimate. As this fact has come clearer to me, I have striven to
the best of my ability to bring as much happiness into his life as lay
in my power.
"The Bible says 'What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.'
I believe that God is love. You never loved me, and I loved only the
image of a man who had no real existence. Not you, William Huskins.
There was no love in our union, and God never sanctioned it; it was not
a real marriage."
"You do me a great injustice, Clarissa, when you say I never loved you.
How can you say so, when the memory of the past is in your mind? If I
lacked in loving demonstration, it was because of ignorance how to
express myself. You have seen a side of my nature no one else knows to
exist. Surely I proved myself a loving slave while you stayed with me.
In your greatest anger, you must admit I was ever beside you, never
bestowing even a passing thought upon any other woman. Your pleasure
and presence made up for me the sum of life's happiness, and words can
never express the black desolation of my heart since you left me."
"Love! What do you know of love! Let me tell you how you have loved me.
You were affectionate, happy and kind just so long as we were alone; let
me pet an animal, speak to a man or even a woman, with the most common
courtesy, and that kindness was replaced by a demon of jealousy that
would listen to no reason, but reviled me without--"
"Clarissa, I know I was hasty, possibly cruel; I did not mean to be so.
It was my great love for you that made me jealous. I will admit it was
torture for me to see you engrossed with any one, but surely there must
be some excuse for me when you think it was love that made me so. I do
not pretend I am blameless. I know jealousy changed me from a sane man
to a mad one, but I swear to you, give me your love again, and you shall
nevermore witness such scenes, for, should I feel the demon's influence
coming to me again, I will go away from your presence and only return
when I can bring you as much happiness as you give me, when you yield
yourself to--"
"That is just it, William,--so long as I yield, so long as I amuse you
and gratify your wishes, you are happy, and accept those signs as the
offerings of love. Stand where you are till I finish,--your idea is that
a woman's love is only expressed by a blind obedience to her husband.
"What is man, that he expects from a woman that which he will not give
in return? You believe now just as you have in the past; that is,--if I
loved you, I would see, think, feel and act according to your ideas of
how a woman should, consigning to your guardianship and care my
conscience and opinions, even as I would my body. You have no right to
expect from me anything that you would not do yourself. I learned what
love was when I became a mother. Do you think my love for Augustus
demands his giving up all his desires and expectations? No;--my love for
him is so strong I would endure with a smile and never a moan, if I knew
that my suffering would purchase his happiness. I do not want him to
see, feel and think as I do; I want him to have perfect freedom of
choice. I do and always will find my greatest happiness in witnessing
his joy."
"A mother's love is different from a husband's."
"So I have found them. Since Augustus was first placed in my arms, I
have known but one thought, one desire;--that was to please him. It is
for him I always sing; never for the public. I always feel he will be
proud to think, in after life, his mother was a gifted and talented
woman."
"Are you not a little selfish yourself, when you have left me sad and
lonely all these years since you have had our boy?"
As he said this, there resounded a peal of boyish laughter, ringing
clear and distinct. William hesitated, then resumed: "I make no
pretentions to goodness, but there are a few facts I have a right to
state. When you left my home, every ray of brightness faded out of my
life. I doubted everybody and everything;--I was proud--too proud to
want anyone's pity or sympathy, so I sought to hide my suffering beneath
a mask of indifference and coldness. What I suffered, no one but myself
will ever know. It has made an old man out of a young one;--it has so
completely crushed my pride I am willing now to sue for a second place
in your affections, when the first is filled by my son. It is impossible
for me to go back to my lonely home and endure what I have. If I have
been cruel, harsh and unjust to you whom I love better than my life, I
ask to be forgiven, and promise that, coming to me again, you shall be
the guiding influence of our home. Give me one chance to show the depth
and earnestness of my love. Few men have given women the fidelity I have
shown you. That ought to be a factor in my favor."
"William, I believe you have been true to me. I have heard you called a
woman-hater everywhere, but why have you been? You have not seen another
woman who happened to please you as I did. It was no sacrifice upon your
part, as you were not strongly attracted to them. I believe I am just
and honest with you when I say the feeling you held for me, and which
you called love, was only a physical attraction, and that was the cause
of your suffering so from jealousy. Do not interrupt me--I know that you
do not believe it, but I do, and with good reason."
"I must have been a most cruel husband indeed."
"No, William, I know you have not meant to be, and I am willing to
acknowledge I, too, have made many mistakes; we have both been at fault,
but you might at least have come and asked me to stay in your home, when
you knew my delicate condition."
"Clarissa! As there is a good Judge in the Infinite, I did not know it."
"You did know it, for I told you so myself, during that last quarrel."
"I will not dispute your words, that would be useless, but will admit
much of that interview is a blank in my memory. You know, as well as I,
when jealousy or rage controlled me I was not always responsible for
what I might do or say. If I were to be weighed in the balance of
Infinite Justice, however, I should firmly declare that, had I known
your condition, I should have humbled my pride and sought your presence,
shielding you from your pain and suffering so far as lay in my power."
"You are the cause of Augustus' infirmity, and every time I see him
looking longingly at other boys who can run and walk and play, how do
you suppose I feel?"
"How can I be blamed for that, Clarissa? Surely, I injured you in no
way."
"You never struck me with your hands, but you struck my heart; pride,
fears, disappointment, anguish of mind, and, yes, I may as well admit
it, lonesomeness produced such an effect upon me that, for a while, I
was unable to walk; my body would tremble and shake so that I could not
support myself.
"When my boy,--my idol came, he was physically perfect. How proud I was
of him; but when the time came all other children walk, mine could not
stand alone! He was called upon to pay the penalty of our sins. My love
for him increased when I knew I was the cause of his affliction; I could
not help feeling bitter and angry toward you, for without your senseless
and unreasonable jealousy, our boy might have been like others, only
brighter, for every one admits that he is unusually talented."
"If I could take his infirmity from him, I would gladly do so, but I
cannot. Every reparation man can make, however, I will make, if you will
give me a chance. You have been in my home. Won't you and Augustus come
there to live? I promise upon my honor to be guided by your judgment and
wishes. You will not believe me till you test it, but I know my love is
strong enough to bear any test. You think a mother's love is purest, but
that love which a good man offers the woman he wants to make his life
complete, cannot be exceeded by any sentiment possible to souls of
earth.
"Show me a test of endurance you would undergo for Augustus;--I will
double it for you without a murmur. Will you not give me one trial,
Clarissa? Come--how you tremble! I must go and leave you--kiss me before
I go. I will go ahead, for Merle is very ill and needs me. I will either
come back for you, or you and Augustus may come on with James. Nancy
will have everything in readiness. We will begin anew. Which will you
do?"
"We will come with James, William."
"When?"
"Just as soon as we can get ready."
"I cannot realize you are really coming to me again, Clarissa;--I fear
I will awake and find it is only a dream, as I have so many times
before. Look me straight in the eye, and swear you will come.--I believe
it now. I will not disturb James and Augustus. He was frightened and
thought you were dead. Thinking I had killed you, he disliked me, but
you will influence him to love me. Won't you write me while you have to
stay here? I will leave a check at my apartments for all you will need.
James will fetch it to you. Think of me sometimes, even though I am
unworthy."
When he left Clarissa, William walked quickly from the house, and sought
his own apartments, preparatory to going to Merle, who, as the telegrams
stated, was seriously ill.