The Last Drop in a Bitter Cup.
"The girl has more spirit than I gave her credit for," Mrs. Farnum
muttered to herself, as she entered her own rooms after leaving Virgie.
"If she persists in her purpose of securing proofs and going to Heathdale
to claim her position, of course it will upset everything. However, she
will not be able to do that at present; she must first take a long
journey, and meantime Miriam will, no doubt, think of some way to prevent
a <i>denouement</i>. Doubtless the girl will write once more and charge Sir
William with his perfidy—she is not one to bear tamely such a wrong; but
Miriam will be on the watch, and if the little upstart gets no reply, her
pride will probably assert itself, and we shall have no more trouble with
her, for a while at least. Meantime Sir William may be prevailed upon to
get a divorce, and then the way will be clear once more for Sadie.
"How fortunate," she added, going on with her soliloquy, "that Will Heath
and Margie were married just at this time!—she swallowed that story
whole. Well, I must confess it was calculated to stagger any one, though I
was almost afraid she had heard something before about the facts; but it
seems she had not."
* * * * *
The truth regarding the news that Mrs. Farnum had received from Lady
Linton, and which the latter had so cunningly utilized to further her
scheme to separate her brother and his wife, was this:
Sir William Heath had a cousin who bore the same name as himself, though
without the title, of course.
He was three years older than the young baronet, and had been named for
his uncle, with the hope that he would be received as the heir in case no
son was born to the elder Sir William. But this was not to be.
From childhood the boy had been attached to his little, neighbor and
playmate, Margaret Stanhope, and they had been engaged for years, as Mrs.
Farnum told Virgie.
But being the son of a younger son, he had had to struggle somewhat for
his education and position in life, and it was only a few months previous
to Sir William's return from America that he had succeeded in securing a
situation as private secretary to a nobleman, and thus felt that at last
he had a right to marry the sweet girl whom he had so long and so fondly
loved, and make a home for himself.
The marriage had been set for the 28th of June, but Lady Heath's sudden
and alarming illness, it was feared, would necessitate a postponement. But
when she began to improve, and the question being submitted to her, she,
having a great fondness for both her nephew and his betrothed, had
insisted that the marriage should proceed. It accordingly took place in
the chapel at Heathdale, Sir William himself giving away the bride, as her
father was not living. So it will readily be seen that there was a
semblance of truth in nearly all that Lady Linton had written to Mrs.
Farnurn.
She had not been quite sure that she would succeed in this part of her
scheme, for it might be that Sir William had mentioned the fact of his
having a cousin by the same name; so she had written her letter in a way
to do no harm in case it did not help her plan. If Virgie did <i>not</i> know,
however, she would readily take it for granted that it was her husband who
had been married on the 28th, while the fact that a long engagement had
existed would seem to prove that he had wilfully deceived her from the
first, and tend to make her believe that her own marriage had been simply
a farce.
Knowing that the certificate was in Sir William's possession, that Mr.
Abbot was dead, and surmising, from their signatures, that two of the
witnesses at least were very ignorant, she hoped, even if Virgie should
have sufficient spirit to assert herself that it would be very difficult
for her to collect proofs of a legal marriage. She knew that she could
bring plenty of evidence to prove the fact that they had lived and
traveled together for several months under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Heath,
but she did not believe that that would count for very much; it would not
be the first time that such a thing had occurred—young men would sow wild
oats occasionally, and though it might wound her pride terribly to have
any scandal arise regarding the matter, yet she could bear that with a far
better grace than to have an ignorant plebeian from the wilds of America
become the mistress of Heathdale.
Her aim was to estrange and keep the couple separated long enough to
secure a divorce and compromise Sir William with Sadie Farnum, and then
she would be ready to snap her fingers at all danger for the future.
Mrs. Farnum wrote immediately to Lady Linton, giving her a full account of
her interview with her despised sister-in-law, while Virgie, as soon as
she could recover sufficient strength and composure to make the effort,
also wrote a long letter to Sir William.
She told him everything, just as if she had not written to him before—how
his letters had suddenly ceased, and how she had waited and hoped to hear
from him until she had grown weary and heart-sick from his long silence.
She told of her meeting with the Farnums, and of the wretched story she
had just learned from the elder lady. She begged him for but one word of
contradiction, and she would believe in him and wait patiently for his own
time for coming to her. But if the terrible tale was true—if he had
deceived her from the first, and had cheated her and her father into
believing that he was making her really his wife, when it had been only a
farce, to tell her plainly, and she would never trouble him again.
When the letter was finished she went out and posted it herself, to insure
its going by the first steamer, and then she tried to school herself to
wait patiently for a reply.
But in a day or two she became conscious of a change in the inmates of the
house toward her. Ladies whom she knew met and passed her with a cold nod,
and a bold stare, which brought a scarlet flush to her cheeks. Some,
indeed, did not deign to recognize her at all. The servants were less
attentive, almost rude, the clerk and proprietor distant and reserved.
Too well she understood what it all meant, and there was but one way to
account for the sudden change in the atmosphere which surrounded her.
Mrs. Farnum, the only one in the house who could possibly know anything
regarding her history, must have given some hint of her apparently
questionable position.
But there was no redress, for she would not humiliate herself enough to
ask an explanation; so she could only submit in silence, and bear it with
what fortitude she could summon to her aid, while she was waiting to hear
from her husband.
But she endured agonies during the time, and the days dragged, oh, so
heavily by.
She remained closely in her own rooms, seeing no one save the servants and
her own nurse, and devoting herself to the care of her little one.
At last the day that she had set for a letter to come arrived, and she
grew feverish, almost hysterical while waiting for the mail to be
delivered.
She heard the clerk going his rounds; he stopped at Mrs. Farnum's door to
leave something, and then came on toward her door. Her heart stood still
as he approached. He passed by—there was nothing for her, and her heart
was almost broken.
She sent the nurse down to the office to ask if there was not some
mistake—if Mrs. Heath's mail had not been overlooked.
"No, there are no letters for <i>Mrs. Heath</i>," the man answered, with a
peculiar emphasis on the name, and an insolent laugh, that made the woman
very angry.
When she related the circumstance to Virgie, she threw up her arms, with a
gesture of despair, and cried out:
"Oh! what shall I do?"
She appeared stunned, crushed, and the kind-hearted creature who served
her, and who, of course, had known that something was wrong, was extremely
anxious about her.
She begged that she might be allowed to send for Dr. Knox; but Virgie
refused, with a shudder. She could not bear the thought of the good
physician learning the story of her desertion and shame, for such, she
began to feel, must be the true construction to be put upon Sir William's
long absence and silence.
A little later there came a tap upon her door. She sent the nurse to
answer it, and heard some one say:
"Mrs. Farnum's compliments, and she would like Mrs. Heath to read these,
and then return them to her."
The nurse shut the door, and then came to Virgie, with a letter and paper
in her hand.
For an instant she thought it might be a letter for her, and she seized it
with an eager cry.
But no; it was addressed to Mrs. Farnum, though it bore the Heathdale
postmark, and was in the handwriting of Lady Linton.
Virgie grew deathly white, and clutched at her throat, for it seemed as if
she were suffocating.
Then she mastered her emotion, and crept away to her chamber to read the
letter, for she felt that it contained some fatal news, and she wished no
one to witness her suffering as she read it.
With it convulsively clasped in her hands, she fell upon her knees and
sobbed:
"Oh, Heaven, spare me deeper sorrow! oh, do not confirm my shame!"
It was some time before she could compose herself enough to read that
fatal missive, but at length she unfolded it and began to peruse it.
* * * * *
"Dear Myra," the letter began, "you may be surprised by the contents of
this, but I cannot bring myself to address that person by the name which
she claims, and so feel compelled to ask you to oblige me by giving her a
message, or, perhaps what would be better, allow her to read this letter
for herself. My brother is away from home just now, and, as my custom is
in his absence, I open all letters of a private nature, and act as I judge
best regarding them. The wildest epistle imaginable came to him yesterday
and I was thankful that he was away, for he is so very happy that it must
have shocked him exceedingly and I shall need to communicate its contents
very delicately to him.
"That girl of whom you wrote me in your last actually claims to be his
lawful wife—believes it, I suppose, poor child—and cannot understand how
utterly impossible it would be for any one belonging to an old and
honorable family like ours to ally himself with one so low in the social
scale. I am shocked that my brother should have been guilty of anything so
out of character as she represents while he was abroad. I am sincerely
sorry for the wrong which it appears he has done her, if what she says is
true, and shall insist that he provide comfortably for her for the
future; but, of course, the idea that she has a right to come here as
mistress is preposterous, and I trust that you will make it appear so to
her. Advise her to renounce at once all claim to the name, and settle
quietly in some place where she is not known, and perhaps she may be able
to bring up her child in a respectable way, so that its prospects will not
be hampered in the future by its mother's mistake.
"Will and Margie returned while I was writing to you, and both look so
well and happy that it does my heart good to see them. Of course I had to
stop for awhile, but now I will try and finish my letter. I have had a
serious talk with my brother, and he appears to feel very much troubled
over his American escapade, confessed that he had done wrong, and gave me
this hundred pound note, which I inclose for the benefit of the girl; and
I sincerely trust she will do nothing more to disturb a happy household,
and one which will be very much annoyed by any useless scandal."
There followed a little more pertaining in an indifferent way to the above
household, but Virgie had read enough, and the letter fell from her
nerveless fingers, while she sat staring vacantly before her, her brain
almost turned by the heartless words she had just read, her heart broken
with its weight of woe, while a feeling of utter wretchedness and
desolation made her long for death to steep her senses in oblivion.
She forgot all about the paper which had been given her with the letter,
while the hundred-pound note, which had been inclosed with it, had
fluttered out unheeded as she drew it from the envelope, and now lay upon
the floor at her feet.
Later she examined the paper, and found a notice of the marriage of
William Heath and Margaret Stanhope. Whether Lady Linton had been the
cause of it to further her schemes, or whether some strange fatality had
occasioned the mistake, it would be difficult to say, but the paragraph
read:
"Married:—On the 28th instant, in the Heath Chapel, Sir William Heath, of
Heathdale, to Miss Margaret Stanhope, only daughter of the late Sidney
Stanhope."
Thus was added the last drop to the cup of bitterness which Virgie had to
drink.
There had been a strange mixture of truth and falsehood in the letter
which Lady Linton wrote to Mrs. Farnum.
Her brother was away for a day or two on a matter of business when
Virgie's imploring epistle arrived—a circumstance for which his sister
was most thankful, for it was no trifling matter for her to be always on
the alert to intercept the letters that passed, through the bag at
Heathdale. But she had succeeded in accomplishing this by having had an
extra key made for the lock and always accompanying the carriage when it
went for the mail.
This drive she called her "constitutional," and as the carriage was a
closed one, she could readily unlock the bag and abstract the letters she
wanted without being seen, and consequently was never suspected of having
anything to do with the interrupted correspondence of Sir William and
Virgie.
She had also been interrupted while writing to Mrs. Farnum by the return
of her brother and the entrance of her cousin's new wife. Afterward she
had had a talk with Sir William, in which he confessed to feeling greatly
"troubled" regarding Virgie and her long, unaccountable silence. He said
he felt that he had "done wrong" to have left her so long, for, as it had
proved, his mother was gradually though slowly improving, and he might
have gone and returned without affecting her health; he should see Sir
Herbert Randal when he came again, and make arrangements to sail
immediately for America. But Lady Linton cunningly provided against this
calamity by privately informing the physician that her mother was worrying
over this threatened departure, and he succeeded in prevailing upon the
baronet to wait a week or two longer.
Sir William had, indeed, given his sister a hundred-pound note, but it was
for the benefit of a poor girl who had been crippled by a railway
accident; and thus all these circumstances being artfully woven into her
letter had something of truth in them, and helped to serve the scheming
woman's purpose.