A Deserted Wife, or Model Woman
One hot summer’s day I received a visit from a young and beautiful
woman attired in fashionable costume. She told me she was desirous of
obtaining accommodation for a couple of months as her husband was in
England and the time of her accouchement was at hand. She was the bearer
of a letter which ran as follows--
LONDON, England, August 6 18--
_To whoever is with my
precious wife in her hour of trial_:
MY DEAR MADAM--I cannot refrain, as the husband of
the most lovable wife on earth from expressing my ardent
wish and prayer that all may be well and that you will
remind her that I am most tenderly loving and thinking
of her and shall pray hourly for her, but whatever be the
issue, let all be done for her happiness and comfort.
I will part with all I have rather than that she or her
infant shall want anything. Oh how I wish I were near
to love and comfort her. If her dear infant is spared all
well and boy or girl I shall be quite as pleased if my idol
be well. _Let all give way_ if need be for my precious
wife’s sake, and on no account let her life be endangered,
even for the sake of the child, if such crisis should occur,
which Heaven forbid.
I can say no more, but I wish I could enclose my hand
and heart if I could comfort your patient. Of course I
shall be terribly anxious to know that all is well; will you
kindly have a postal card ready just to say “all is well” if
so it be; never mind more till my poor wife can put her
own name to a letter.
God reward you for an act that I know the angels envy
you, for your charge is a “friend of Jesus,” and my only
friend on earth.
Yours in intensity of anxious interest,
P. MERRICK.
My address is
Sunny Hill Avenue,
London, E.
Mrs. Merrick explained to me that her husband was a member of a wealthy
English firm doing business in Montreal, and that he was at that time
obliged to be in London on business, but would soon return, when she
purposed setting up an establishment of her own. Her father and mother
(both Scottish Canadians) had been dead many years, and she had been
educated in a boarding school in Ottawa where she had first met Mr.
Merrick.
Within a few days the lady became an inmate of my house, and in course
of time became the mother of a beautiful little boy, news of which
was at once despatched to London. For three weeks Mrs. Merrick waited
patiently for a reply, and after that time, receiving none, she became
uneasy, and wrote a long letter to her husband, beseeching him to send
her an answer immediately, but neither to this letter did she obtain any
response and days became weeks and the weeks began to spread themselves
into months and yet not a line or even a word could be obtained to
indicate the whereabouts of Mr. Merrick or whether he was alive or dead.
At last the terrible truth began to dawn on the poor creature that
she had been basely deserted by him who was sworn to be her friend and
protector and she became almost demented, she tried to account for his
silence in many ways but her intellectual acumen as too great and her
reasoning always brought her to the one sad conclusion. However, as
nothing better could be done the spirited creature made up her mind to
earn her own living and that of her child, and setting her wits to work
she soon obtained a situation as governess at the house of Mr. Mullaly,
a retired merchant of considerable means whose wife and daughters were
desirous of obtaining an entree into polite society. Placing her boy
out to nurse, she set out for her new home, and soon began to feel the
blessedness of working for her own living.
But her happiness was not unmixed with pain. The Mullaly girls somehow
or another heard that Miss Caldwell (she had given her maiden name) was
the mother of a little child, and, although she admitted the fact
and recounted to them her whole history, they gave no credence to her
assertions, but began to treat her with the greatest contempt making her
life miserable. The poor woman would fain have left her situation, but
she recollected that it would be difficult to obtain another without
referring to Mrs. Mullaly who would be sure to tell the whole story with
several embellishments. On the whole she thought she had better remain
where she was for a time, hoping that, as years went by, and the girls
acquired more judgment and common sense, they would treat her with
greater fairness. Accordingly she bore all the taunts of the young
ladies with great meekness and patience, and made herself so agreeable
and useful that, although they never could make up their minds to
believe her story or to treat her as one of the family--the Mullalys
came to regard Miss Caldwell as indispensable to their existence, and
when Miss Mullaly the elder got married she took Miss Caldwell with her
in the capacity of housekeeper the young sisters no longer requiring her
in her capacity as governess, which situation she, however, did not long
keep as the remuneration would not enable her to educate her boy as she
desired. He was a fair-haired, bright little fellow, and the most loving
little creature on earth. She consulted with me what best could be done
to earn a larger salary. I advised her to become a professional nurse
though hard she would think it at first, when once accustomed to its
little drudgeries she would find it a noble calling, with God’s blessing
attached to it. She consented, and I trained her in my hospital, she
became in a very short time one of my most proficient nurses. From that
time she had gained the battle, for, as soon as some of our medical men
got acquainted with her, they gave her employment at the most serious of
their cases, till at last it became very hard for me to procure her
for some of my own patients, and through her abilities, patience, and
refined feelings she gained a great many sincere friends. One of her
patients, an old lady, left at her death $200 to her kind nurse, and
this enabled poor Mrs. Merrick to give her boy that education which she
had so long craved for him.
In the meanwhile Willie Merrick was placed at school at Lennoxville,
where he evinced great talent. At twelve years of age he was noted as
the finest classical scholar in the school, and his mother was induced
to place him in training, with a view to his matriculating at the
University of Bishop’s College. The fond mother lived only for her son,
so she placed him under the care of a private tutor, at whose hands
he made such progress that at the early age of fifteen he entered the
University. Here he showed himself at once to be made of no ordinary
metal, and he became quite a favorite with the Principal and professors,
all of whom were ever ready to lend him a helping hand. His mother had
intended him for the church but Willie did not (so he said) feel “good
enough” for that high and holy calling, so he entered the Faculty of
Law, determined, if possible, to distinguish himself in that profession
so soon as he obtained the necessary qualifications for commencing
practice. In process of time he obtained his degree, graduating with
high honors, and he was not long in establishing a practice equal to
that of many older advocates.
Although without any hope of ever taking her place again as Merrick’s
wife, the poor woman whom he had so basely deserted instituted a
thorough search for him in England, and was enabled to discover all his
history, and also so gain an insight into his proceedings whilst away
from her. It seems that he had married her under an assumed name, his
real patronymic being Stephens, and that his people were purse-proud and
overbearing. On his arrival in England his father, who had heard of the
young man’s escapades in Canada peremptorily ordered him to have no more
correspondence with his Canadian wife, but to marry a noble lady whom he
had purchased (through money lent; to her father) for the ennobling of
the Stephens family.
When the deserted woman became assured of the truth of these disclosures
she made up her mind to give no more thought to the wretch who had left
her in such a predicament, and determined to centre her hopes and her
affections in her son, who had by this time become a distinguished
lawyer, and was quite as proud of his mother as his mother was of him.
He took a house for himself and only parent in the Western suburbs, and
they lived in quiet comfort together, the young man going little into
society, except on public occasions, on all of which he was invariably
asked to take a prominent part in the proceedings.
When William Merrick had been in practice about two or three years he
was entrusted with an important case connected with the endowment
of some church in Lower Canada, which was appealed from one court to
another, until, finally, it was decided to carry it to the House of
Lords. Accordingly the young advocate made preparations for a trip
to England, and, being unwilling to leave his mother alone for such a
lengthened period, he decided to take her along with him. They sailed
from Quebec one fine Saturday in June, arriving at Liverpool late on the
following Saturday night, a strong westerly wind blowing them rapidly
across the Atlantic! They stayed but a few days in Liverpool, and then
went on to London, putting up temporarily at the Langham, at that time
the most fashionable hotel in London. The morning after their arrival
the young lawyer, having occasion to go to the Courts on business, Mrs.
Merrick was left for a time to her own devices, she occupied a half-hour
or so in reading the newspapers, and then made up her mind to go for
a stroll before luncheon. Attiring herself rather gaily (she was still
remarkably good-looking, only a little over 40 years then) she set out
with a sprightly step down the main staircase, humming to herself a
lively air which she used to sing in happier days. Just as she
was descending the last flight of stairs, a gentleman having a
delicate-looking lady on his arm began to ascend, and on hearing
the melody, faint though it was, which the approaching lady, was
unconsciously humming, glanced suddenly and swiftly upwards; then, as if
a thunderbolt had struck him, he came to a sudden halt, having a dazed
expression on his features and littering a half suppressed oath or
imprecation. Mrs. Merrick had not noticed the approaching couple, her
thoughts being far away, but the suddenness of the gentleman’s movement
arrested her attention, and she looked him fully in the face for a
moment; then, uttering a wild shriek, she fell backward and would have
been probably severely injured, had not a gentleman, who happened to
be close behind her, caught her as she fell, and carried her to the
landing-place, where restoratives were applied, and the unfortunate
woman speedily came to her senses.
It is scarcely necessary to say that the lady and gentleman whose advent
so upset Mrs. Merrick were none other than Mr. and Mrs. Stephens who
had come up to London for the operatic season and were staying at the
Langham Hotel. Taking advantage of the confusion, Stephens hurried
his wife along to her room, giving no further answer to her many and
wondering enquiries than: “Oh, it’s only the heat; don’t mix yourself up
with all these people,” and, without allowing time for remonstrance
or further enquiry, he put a stop to all questioning by hurrying the
delicate creature along till he deposited her, breath less, in an easy
chair. Going out into the corridor he tried to discover how matters
stood, but the woman he dreaded to meet had been borne to her room and
medical attendance had been summoned. This Mr. Stephens learned from a
waiter; so, determined to deport himself as if he knew nothing of the
cause of the lady’s illness, and was as much puzzled at the occurrence
as the rest of those who had either witnessed it or come on the scene
soon afterwards, he returned to his wife, and, throwing himself into a
chair, pretended to read. But his wife, obtuse though she possibly was
with regard to the fainting lady, something had struck her about the
manner her husband assumed. She could not get over it, and when at the
table d’hote with her husband listened attentively to the conservation
of two gentlemen who were sitting vis-à-vis. One enquired after the
health of the lady who had taken so suddenly ill on the landing in the
morning. The younger of the two gentlemen expressed his gratitude to the
other for assisting his mother so kindly, who would have, but for his
assistance, fallen down stairs, but was somewhat better now. He said the
Doctor had not been able to ascertain the cause of her sudden illness,
and, as his mother had always been blessed with such good health, he
himself could not account for it. In the meantime Mr. and Mrs. Stephens
had been listeners to the conversation when all of a sudden a curious,
gurgling noise was heard, a chair was overturned, and Mr. Stephens was
stretched on the floor in a dying condition, blood streaming from
his mouth. There was a great commotion in the dining-room, and it
was thought at first he had swallowed a bone and was choking; but the
physicians who arrived, three in number, pronounced it a rupture of a
blood-vessel and applied at once the necessary remedies, but gave little
hope of his recovery. As soon as his condition permitted a removal, he
was carried, by the advice of the doctor, to a private hospital near by,
where his delicate wife also preferred to go, and nothing more was heard
of the dying stranger, for a while anyhow.
Our young lawyer, Willie Merrick, had been successful in his law
affairs, and had arranged a trip to the continent with his mother, when
a cablegram was sent to them from Canada, saying: “Don’t leave England;
wait for letters; good news.” This was rather annoying to Mr. Merrick,
as he had only a few weeks more at his disposal; and he anticipated this
trip as so necessary to restore his mother’s cheerfulness. Mrs. Merrick
was also puzzled as to what could possibly detain them any longer in
London. At last the Canadian post arrived, and with it large documents
and letters which had been sent from England to Canada and were now
returned, informing Mrs. Merrick that a certain W. Merrick Stephens
had died, leaving a large fortune, and that half of this estate was
bequeathed to Mrs. Merrick in Canada, whose maiden name had been Emma
Caldwell, or, in case of her death, to her heirs. Young Mr. Merrick
being at this time a well-known young lawyer in Montreal it was not hard
to find him. Both he and his mother could not imagine who had left them
such a fortune. Well did Mrs. Merrick think of the man whom she had
loved so dearly and truly and who had pretended to be so fond of her.
But, she knew too well that she had been deceived, that he had married
her under a false name, and had she not recognised him at the hotel with
a lady who was his wife!--She had never told her son the cause of her
sudden illness when first at the hotel; and her son had never mentioned
the affair of the dying stranger at the dinner-table, thinking his
mother still too weak to be disturbed by such shocking calamities. His
partner from Montreal wrote; “You had better stay and see about this
large fortune at once. Every one is not such a lucky fellow as you.” A
Mr. Tidal was mentioned as executor of the estate of W. M. Stephens, and
our hero prepared at once to call on that gentleman, who received him
very friendly, but requested him to call the next day with his mother at
the family residence of the deceased, which visit had been particularly
desired by the deceased gentleman’s widow. Our young gentleman of coarse
promised to comply with the wish, and was very much surprised when,
on returning to his mother, he found her hesitating,--but for a moment
only, a second thought, as she promised to accompany him, feeling in her
heart that, whatever Mrs. Stephens might wish to see her for, she would
certainly not blame her for anything, as all the wrong that had been
committed had been committed towards her, but still her heart was heavy
when at two o’clock they started in one of those stage coaches of which
London has so many. After about two hours’ drive they alighted in
front of an old-fashioned family mansion, surrounded by well cultivated
grounds. The gentleman, Mr. Vidal, on whom young Mr. Merrick had called
the day previous, came to the portal to greet them, and begged Mrs.
Merrick to have the kindness to see Mrs. Stephens in her own apartments,
as she was in delicate health and very much crushed down through the
sudden loss of her husband. A maid who had appeared at the time was
ordered to direct Mrs. Merrick to the boudoir of her mistress and,
announcing the visitor, withdrew. Mrs. Stephens, attired in deep
mourning, looked very pale. On seeing Mrs. Merrick enter, she rose from
her chair and holding both hands out to greet the astonished lady, said:
“Oh, you wronged, wronged woman,” but then tears smothered her words,
and it was quite a while before she could speak again. “How can I atone
for the wrongs committed on you, but I promised him. His last request
was that I would see you and beg your forgiveness for him. He had
recognised you at once at the hotel, and he felt his Conscience
troubling him very much. But the sight of your son--his son--was too
much for him. He felt he could not live to meet the son he had so
wronged and the woman he had so loved and so betrayed. He told me all
when the blood was streaming and smothered his words. He had married me
by the command of his father for my money, but had afterwards learned to
love me when he saw I was so devoted to him, but he had not the courage
to tell me of you and his child. I often noticed him looking sad, and
when I asked him to tell me what was troubling him he would say: ‘Don’t
be so kind to me, I don’t deserve it, I am very, very wicked.’”
“We have no children, our first-born, a boy, only lived one hour; the
second, a girl, only three days. Since then my health has never been
good, but he was so kind, so indulgent with all my weaknesses, that I
can hardly realize he was ever unkind to any one. But his father was a
stern old man of iron will who made him leave you and marry me for my
father’s money. All this I could not tell to your son nor to anybody
else than to you. Will you tell me you forgive him? I know your heart is
pure and good or you would have troubled him while alive. Don’t sit so
mute, you frighten me; shall I call your son--the servants?”
“No, no, don’t call anybody,” was her response, “but speak of him, of
him you loved, the only one I have ever loved save my child.” At the
thought of her son she broke out into sobs, and the blessed tears
brought balm to her heart. Silence prevailed for a long time, save the
sobs of both. At length a knock was heard, and a servant inquired if the
ladies wished to take refreshments with the gentlemen. Both would
have declined but for appearance sake, and, after bathing their faces,
descended to the room where the gentlemen had transacted their business.
On entering Mrs. Stephens approached Willie saying: “I hope you have
consented to take, in addition to the name which you bear already, the
name of Stephens, which was the last desire of my dear husband and also
my sincere wish.”
“If my mother consents to assume that name also I shall, but otherwise I
must decline, as I shall never bear any other name than my mother whom I
love and honor, and who can, if she prefer, refuse this bequest and need
never tell me why. I know she will do all for the best if it combine
with honor.”
“She will not refuse,” was Mr. Vidal’s reply; “and now, ladies, I have
to beg you to sign those deeds that we are able to congratulate the new
lord of the estate.”--(All signed).
The end of this story is very short now. Mr. W. Merrick Stephens and
mother never returned to Montreal, but are living with Mrs. Stephens
(the widow) on the same estate and never has there existed a more
perfect harmony and friendship--both trying to make each other happy and
those around them. The last I heard from them was the following letter:
LONDON, December 18.
MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,
Don’t be angry that I call you old. I know you are not
much older than myself, but it seems you are nearer to me
when I address you so. How my life has changed! You
used to tell me the evening will be better than the morning
How true! She is so good (his wife), both Willie
and I cannot help loving and admiring her. She thinks
Willie looks like him and has many of his ways. If her
health is good next spring we shall all three visit Canada,
I think the sea-voyage will do her good. I shall be so
proud to introduce her to you, and so glad to see you
again who helped and advised me always for the best.
You can write the history of my life it you like. Why
did you ask my permission? You well knew I would
do more for you if you let me I know you will not say
anything to harm us, and I shall forever consider myself
in your debt, but you must send us one of your books
when out. Willie joins with me in sending his best regards
to your husband and children and believe me for ever
your grateful friend.
EMMA MERRICK STEPHENS