The next day I had a long conversation with my mother--as to what we
should do in the future.
It resulted in my proposing, that we should return immediately to
Liverpool.
"No! no!" protested she, with an eagerness that astonished me; "I cannot
think of that. I must wait for the return of my husband."
"Your husband!"
"Yes! yes! Mr Leary. He has gone to California; but I have reason to
believe that he will soon be back."
"Now that you have spoken of _him_," said I, "please to tell me all
about him; and how he has used you since I left home."
"He has always been very kind to me," she answered, "very kind indeed.
He has gone to the diggings in California, where I have no doubt but
what he will do well, and come back with plenty of money."
"But I was told in Dublin that he deserted you there," said I. "Was
that very kind indeed?"
"It is true; he did leave me there; but the business was doing badly,
and he couldn't help going. I have no doubt but what he was sorry for
it afterwards."
"Then you followed him here, and lived with him again?"
"Yes; and we were very happy."
"But I have been told by Mr Davis--whom you know--that he again
deserted you here, and ran away to California with another woman. Is
that true?"
"He did go to California," answered my foolish mother, "and I suppose
that Miss Davis went with him; but I blame her more than him: for I'm
sure she led him astray, or he would not have gone with her. However,
I'll not say much against her: for I hear she is dead now, poor thing!"
"Knowing that she has deserted you twice, what leads you to think that
he will again return to you?"
"Because _I know that he loves me_! He was always so kind and
affectionate. The woman, who led him astray, is no longer alive to
misguide him; and I know he will comeback to me."
"My poor deceived, trusting, foolish mother!"