THE SHADOW OF ORPHANAGE AND SORROW.
"Thou didst set thy foot on the ship, and sail
To the ice-fields and the snow;
Thou wert sad, for thy love did naught avail,
And the end we could not know....
Oh, I spoke once and I grieved thee sore;
I remember all that I said--
And now thou wilt hear me no more, no more
Till the sea gives up its dead."--JEAN INGELOW.
The golden summer days fled fast, and the Winans family remained at
Rosemont until they were to go to their Washington home to make ready
for Ethel's marriage early in December.
Lord Chester had not yet returned to America, as the lawsuit was not
decided yet, but the date of the marriage remained unaltered, for Ethel
had indignantly disclaimed any desire to break her engagement because
of the altered prospects of her betrothed.
So while they rested at Rosemont they had much to look forward to in
the near future, only they talked of it but little, for each had secret
sorrows that weighed heavily on their hearts. Precious had one in the
inability to tear from her mind the thought of the man so soon to
become her sister's husband, and Earle had one of the same character
in his stifled love for willful Ladybird, who had used him so cruelly.
Senator Winans was pained because he was so soon to lose his elder
daughter, and his wife, while she shared this sorrow, had another grief
very near her gentle heart.
In the forty years of life that had passed over her golden head in
mingled sunshine and shadow the senator's lovely, graceful wife had
never been known to turn traitor to a friendship, or to shirk a duty,
however hard. In her noble nature all the elements of constancy and
self-sacrifice were exquisitely blended to form a model woman, whether
in prosperity or adversity.
So it was not strange that her peculiar interest in Ladybird Conway
had drawn her maternal instincts strongly toward the capricious but
adorable little beauty.
Her interest in the young girl dated back to her parents.
Bruce Conway had been Grace's first lover, and it is said that a
woman's heart always retains a slight tenderness for the lover who was
first to worship at her shrine.
On the other hand the girl Bruce Conway had married claimed Mrs. Winans
as her dearest friend, and it was through her that little Earle, when
kidnaped by a poor mother crazed by the loss of her own child, had been
restored to his parents. Now, when gentle, brown-eyed Lulu had been
dead for years, her memory was still green in the heart of this true
friend, and for her beloved sake Mrs. Winans yearned over Ladybird with
inexpressible tenderness.
With her husband's full concurrence in her plans she had come to
Rosemont hoping to find pretty Ladybird and adopt her as her own.
For the shadow of orphanage and sorrow had fallen darkly over the
little curly, brown head with its will-o'-the-wisp fancies.
In June Bruce Conway had sailed from New York on the Mamaroneck, and
all the world knew now that some awful mysterious fate had overtaken
the steamer, for she had never reached port nor been sighted during
the voyage; and after she had been fully a month overdue her lifeboats
had been seen drifting empty on the ocean. It was certain then that
the Mamaroneck had been wrecked, but at first it was hoped that the
passengers had been rescued from the lifeboats by some other steamer.
Alas! weary months had come and gone, and still no tidings of the
fifty souls, passengers and crew, of the Mamaroneck. Hope died out in
every heart. They were given up for lost. The sea had claimed them for
her victims.
To the Winans family the news of the probable death of Bruce Conway
came with a shock of pain, and their sympathies turned to the orphaned
girl left lonely in the wide world.
Ladybird had kept up at first an occasional correspondence with
Precious, but at last it had closed abruptly, and, as the traveling
party were always on the wing, her whereabouts were quite unknown to
them. But they hoped to find her with her aunt at the pretty cottage
home at Rosemont.
But cruel disappointment awaited their inquiries.
Ladybird had indeed returned home in September, but, crushed by the
news of her father's death, had drooped and paled like a broken flower.
Meanwhile Lawyer Stanley, who had been Mr. Conway's legal adviser, had
declared his belief in his client's death, and produced papers by which
he was chosen Ladybird's guardian. He asserted that Mr. Conway had died
bankrupt through unfortunate speculations, and that his daughter was
penniless. But professing sincere friendship for the dead, he accepted
the charge of Ladybird as a sacred trust. Miss Prudence Primrose had
been sent to California, to a half-brother there, and then Mr. Stanley
had moved away to New York with his family, consisting of an invalid
wife and Aura, to which was now added the charge of a helpless orphan
girl whom Aura hated so bitterly that it seemed strange to think that
the father could feel so deep an interest in her welfare.
"We must find the little girl, and take her home with us. She will be
a pleasant companion for Precious when our dear Ethel is married and
gone," said the senator kindly, and his wife added:
"Yes, we must find her, for I know she is not happy with that
coarse-grained Aura Stanley. She must come to us and be our daughter,
for she has more claim on us than on her father's lawyer."
Ethel and Precious both agreed that Ladybird was a darling, and that it
would make them very happy to have her for a sister; but Earle Winans
never bore any part in these discussions, although he listened to them
in silent eagerness, wondering if it would ever happen, as they were
planning, that Ladybird should come to them as a sister. He knew by the
feverish throb of his passionate heart that he loved her still, despite
the pride and anger that strove for mastery in his haughty breast.
"I deemed that time, I deemed that pride
Had quenched at last my boyish flame,
Nor knew till seated by thy side
My heart in all save hope the same."
One day when he was seated at a desk in the library, with his dark,
curly head bent dejectedly on his hand, a light footstep crossed the
floor, and a tender arm stole around his neck. He looked up into his
mother's tender face, that was quite young and lovely still, in spite
of her forty years.
"My dear, you are sad. Why is it?" she asked lovingly.
"It is only your fancy, dearest," he replied, summoning a smile.
"Earle, I have something to ask you. Will you go to New York on a
little mission for me?" she asked softly, threading his dark curls with
her slender, jeweled fingers.
"You can command me, dearest mother, to go to the ends of the earth for
you," he replied smilingly, but with real affection.
"Good boy! But I will not impose on you like that. It is only to take a
little run up to New York, find these Stanleys and persuade Ladybird to
come here to us with you."
He made a vehement ejaculation, and she saw the crimson mount to his
temples.
"You will do this for me, my son?" she cooed, in that soft, caressing
voice he had loved ever since it had soothed him to his infant slumbers.
But he rose to his feet impatiently.
"You do not know what you ask--you do not understand--" he began hotly.
The sweetest, most knowing little smile dawned on Mrs. Winans'
exquisitely curved red lips.
"Ah, my boy, I know more than you suspect," she smiled. "Do you think
I did not know, last summer, that you and Ladybird had been lovers? It
was a silly madcap prank, that little affair of hers, but she was so
young, so thoughtless, it can easily be forgiven. And she loved you
through it all, I am sure."
"She promised to marry another man," he said stiffly.
"Only fun. She did not mean it, poor little madcap," smiled his mother;
then more seriously she added: "I am sure the little girl loves you,
Earle, and I want you to forgive her and bring her back to us. Promise
me."
"I cannot forgive," he murmured unsteadily, and she looked at him in
gentle wonder, and answered:
"Then, my son, your love was not worth much if it lacks the quality
of forgiveness that is inherent in all true affection. And Ladybird,
poor child, has been punished enough for her willful prank. Remember
she went away without seeing you when you were wounded, although I
have seen her wistful eyes turned often toward your door with a silent
yearning that almost melted my heart. But we let her go without a sign
that we understood her proud and silent grief. It was her punishment,
and she bore it without murmuring. But now the heavy hand of orphanage
and sorrow is upon her, and it is cruel to harbor resentment."
"Ah, mother, I wish I could be good, like you," he breathed huskily.
With a gentle sigh she answered:
"The good that is in us, Earle, has to be perfected by years of
experience. As the ardor of our youthful passions fades we become more
reasonable and more ready to condone the faults of others. I can see in
your proud, impulsive nature the traits of your parents reflected, so I
cannot blame you too severely for your unrelenting disposition toward
your willful sweetheart; but, dear Earle, I can also assure you, out
of the wisdom of suffering and experience, that forgiveness is one of
the noblest attributes of human nature, and brings with it an exquisite
peace and happiness that is its own best reward."
The violet eyes were soft with unshed tears, and the low voice was as
sweet as music. Earle Winans' moody anger dissolved like mists of dawn
before her sweet influence.
He put his arms lovingly about her, and as he kissed the calm, white
brow he whispered:
"Angel-mother, you make me ashamed of my harshness. I will not cherish
my resentment any longer. It shall be as you say. I will seek Ladybird
and bring her home to you."
"Heaven speed your mission," she cried between tears and smiles, and
before many hours he was on his way to New York, with a lighter heart
than he had borne for months.
But four days later a brief note came to his mother:
"I have found the Stanleys, but Miss Conway is not with them. She
married Jack Tennant two weeks ago, and went to California on her
wedding tour. EARLE."