OUT IN THE COLD, BLEAK WORLD!
"No doubt you have decided ere this what course you intend to pursue,"
said Mrs. Varrick sternly.
"I-- I will do whatever you wish," sobbed the girl; "but oh! let me
plead with you to let me stay here until Mr. Varrick returns!"
Mrs. Varrick's face grew livid in spots with anger, but by a splendid
effort she managed to control herself before the detective. She turned
to him.
"Will you kindly step into an inner room, and there await the conclusion
of this conference?" she asked.
He bowed courteously and complied with her request. When Mrs. Varrick
found herself alone with the girl, she made little effort to conceal her
hatred.
"Why do you wish to see my son?" she asked, harshly. "To try to get him
to condone the atrocious wrong of which you have been guilty? Your
audacity amazes me!"
"I have said that I am innocent!" said the girl, and she rose slowly to
her feet.
"Never, with my consent, will he ever speak to you again! Do you hear
me? I would curse him if he did.
"And it would not stop at that," went on Mrs. Varrick. "I would cut him
off without a dollar, and turn him into the streets a beggar! That would
soon bring him to his senses. Ay, I would do all that and more, if he
were even to speak to you again. So you can see for yourself the
position you would place him in by holding the least conversation with
him."
"He shall not suffer because of me!" sobbed Jessie Bain. "I will go away
and never look upon his face again. I only wanted to tell him to believe
me. I am going, Mrs. Varrick, out into the cold and bitter world from
which he took me. Try to think of me as kindly as you can!"
With this, she turned and walked slowly from the room. On the threshold
she paused and turned back.
"Will you say to him--to your son, I mean--that I am very grateful for
all that he has done for me," she asked, "and that if the time ever
comes when I can repay it, I will do so? Tell him I would give my life,
if I could only serve him!"
"One moment," said the lady, as she was about to close the door: "I do
not wish to send you away empty-handed."
As she spoke she drew a purse from her pocket, saying:
"You will find this well filled. There is only one condition I make in
giving it to you, and that is, that you sign a written agreement that
you will never seek or hold any communication with my son hereafter."
"I am very poor indeed, madame," Jessie said, "but I-- I could not take
one penny from--from the person who believes me guilty of theft. But I
will sign the agreement, because--because you ask me to do so."
"Then step this way," said Mrs. Varrick, going to the table, where,
pushing a folded paper aside, Jessie saw a closely written document
lying beneath it. On the further end of the table a gold pen was resting
on a bronze ink-tray.
Mrs. Varrick dipped the pen in the ink, and handed it to the girl.
"Sign there," she said, indicating, with a very shaking finger, a line
at the bottom.
Perfectly innocent of the dastardly trap that had been set for her,
Jessie took the pen from the hand of Hubert's mother, and fearlessly
wrote her name--signing away all hopes of happiness for all time to
come, and putting a brand on her innocent brow more terrible than the
brand of Cain.
Without waiting for the ink to dry upon it, Mrs. Varrick eagerly
snatched the paper and thrust it into her bosom.
Jessie slowly left the room, and a few moments later, carrying the same
little bundle that she had brought with her, she passed slowly up the
walk and through the arched gate-way, Mrs. Varrick watching after her
from behind the lace-draped window.
She watched her out of sight, praying that she might never see her face
again.
"I have separated my son from her," she muttered, sinking down upon a
cushioned chair. "Any means was justifiable. He would have married
her--it was drifting toward that, and rapidly. I could see it. Heaven
only knows how I have plotted and planned, first to find some business
by which my son could be called from the city, and during his absence
get rid of that girl--so effectually get rid of her that she would
never cross his path again. And I have succeeded!"
As she spoke she drew from her bosom the paper which Jessie Bain had
signed, and ran her eyes over it.
Heaven pity any girl who signs a document the contents of which she is
ignorant!
This document was a statement acknowledging that she, Jessie, had taken
Mrs. Varrick's diamond bracelet, and had hidden it in the bottom of her
trunk, intending to slip out the following day and dispose of it,
thinking she would have plenty of time to do so ere its loss was
discovered; but that in this she had miscalculated, as Mrs. Varrick soon
became aware of the theft; that search was made for it, and that a
detective, who had been secured for the purpose of tracing it,
discovered it in its hiding-place in her trunk; and that, knowing the
consequences, she in her terror had made a full confession, acknowledged
her guilt and threw herself completely upon Mrs. Varrick's mercy, who
had promised not to prosecute her providing she left the country, which
she was only too willing to do.
And to this terrible document Jessie Bain signed her name clearly and
plainly.
With hurried step Mrs. Varrick crossed the room and locked the precious
document in a secret drawer of her _escritoire_; then she remembered
that the detective was awaiting her. She summoned him quickly.
"The matter has been adjusted, and we have rid the house of the girl's
presence," she said, coldly. "I thank you for your sagacity in tracing
my diamond bracelet," she said, thinking it best to throw in a dash of
covert flattery, "and I shall be pleased to settle your bill whenever
you wish to present it."
The detective bowed himself out of her presence, and left the house,
musing on the mysterious robbery, and saying to himself: "I would be far
more apt to suspect the lady of the house than that young girl."
He sighed and went on his way; but all day long, while immersed in the
business which usually was of such an exciting nature that he had no
time for any other thought, the lovely face of Jessie Bain rose up
before him.
He threw down his pen at last in despair.
"I must be bewitched," he muttered. "If I were a younger man I would
certainly say that I had fallen in love. I must find out where that girl
has gone, and have a little talk with her. I can not bring myself to
believe that she stole that bracelet."
He put on his hat and reached for his cane.
"I can not say how long it will be before I shall return," he said to
his fellow detective in charge of the office.
In the meantime, in her lonely mansion, Mrs. Varrick was writing a long
letter to her son. In it she expressed the hope that he was having a
pleasant time, and that he must not hurry home, but stay and attend to
business thoroughly, even though it took him a little longer. But not
one word did she mention of Jessie Bain. So preoccupied was she with her
own thoughts that she did not know Hubert had entered the room until she
heard his voice.
"I will save you the trouble of posting your letter, mother. I see it is
addressed to me. You can read me the contents in person."