As the carriage containing Jay Gardiner and Sally came to a sudden stop,
he put his head out of the window to learn the cause, and found they had
already reached the station.
"We shall reach home by nightfall," he said in a tone of relief.
But to this remark Sally made no reply. She was wondering how she could
ever endure life under the same roof with his prying mother and sister.
While we leave them speeding onward, toward the place which was to be
the scene of a pitiful tragedy, we must draw back the curtain which has
veiled the past, and learn what has become of beautiful, hapless
Bernardine.
After her desertion by the young husband whom she had but just wedded,
and the theft of the money which he had placed in her hands, she lay
tossing in the ravages of brain fever for many weeks in the home to
which the kind-hearted policeman had escorted her.
But her youth, health, and strength at last gained the victory, and one
day, in the late summer, the doctor in charge pronounced her well,
entirely cured, but very weak.
As soon as she was able to leave her bed, Bernardine sent for the
matron.
"You have all been very kind to me," she said, tears shining in her dark
eyes. "You have saved my life; but perhaps it would have been better if
you had let me die."
"No, no, my dear; you must not say that," responded the good woman,
quickly. "The Lord intends you to do much good on earth yet. When you
are a little stronger, we will talk about your future."
"I am strong enough to talk about it now," replied Bernardine. "You know
I am poor, and the only way by which a poor girl can live is by
working."
"I anticipated what you would say, my dear, and I have been making
inquiries. Of course, I did not know exactly what you were fitted for,
but I supposed you would like to be a companion to some nice lady,
governess to little children, or something like that."
"I should be thankful to take anything that offers itself," said
Bernardine.
"It is our principal mission to find work for young girls who seek the
shelter of this roof," went on the matron, kindly. "The wealthy ladies
who keep this home up are very enthusiastic over that part of it. Every
week they send us lists of ladies wanting some one in some capacity. I
have now several letters from a wealthy woman residing at Lee,
Massachusetts. She wants a companion; some one who will be willing to
stay in a grand, gloomy old house, content with the duties allotted to
her."
Bernardine's face fell; there was a look of disappointment in her dark
eyes.
"I had hoped to get something to do in the city," she faltered.
"Work is exceedingly hard to obtain in New York just now, my dear
child," replied the good woman. "There are thousands of young girls
looking for situations who are actually starving. A chance like this
occurs only once in a life-time."
Still, Bernardine looked troubled. How could she leave the city which
held the one that was dearer than all in the world to her? Ah, how could
she, and live?
"Let me show you the paper containing her advertisement," added the
matron. "I brought it with me."
As she spoke, she produced a copy of a paper several weeks old, a
paragraph of which was marked, and handed it to Bernadine.
"You can read it over and decide. Let me know when I come to you an hour
later. I should advise you to try the place."
Left to herself, Bernardine turned to the column indicated, and slowly
perused the advertisement. It read as follows:
"WANTED--A quiet, modest young lady as companion to an
elderly woman living in a grand, gloomy old house in
the suburbs of a New England village. Must come well
recommended. Address MRS. GARDINER, Lee, Mass."
"Gardiner!"
The name fairly took Bernardine's breath away, for it was the name
bestowed upon her by the young man who had wedded and deserted her
within an hour.
The very sight of it made her heart grow sick and faint. Still, it held
a strange fascination for her. She turned to look at it again--to study
it closely, to see how it appeared in print, when, to her amazement, she
caught the name "Jay Gardiner" in a column immediately adjoining it.
She glanced up at the head-lines, and as she did so, the very breath
seemed to leave her body.
It was a sketch of life at Newport by a special correspondent, telling
of the gayety that was going on among the people there, particularly at
the Ocean House. Nearly, half a column was given to extolling the beauty
of young Mrs. Gardiner, _nee_ Sally Pendleton, the bride of Doctor Jay
Gardiner, her diamonds, her magnificent costumes, and smart turn-outs.
The paper fell from Bernardine's hands. She did not faint, or cry out,
or utter any moan; she sat there quite still, like an image carved in
stone. Jay Gardiner was at Newport with his bride!
The words seemed to have scorched their way down to the very depths of
her soul and seared themselves there. Jay Gardiner was at Newport with
his bride!
What, then, in Heaven's name was _she_?
Poor Bernardine! It seemed to her in that moment that she was dying.
Had he played a practical joke upon her? Was the marriage which she had
believed in so fully no marriage at all?
She had no certificate.
It was scarcely an hour from the time the matron had left her until she
returned; but when she did so, she cried out in alarm, for Bernardine's
face was of an ashen pallor, her dark eyes were like coals of fire, and
her hands were cold as death. The matron went up to her in great alarm,
and gently touched the bowed head.
"Bernardine," she murmured, gently--"Bernardine, my poor child, are you
ill? What has happened?"
After some little correspondence back and forth, Bernardine was accepted
by the lady, and in a fortnight more she was able to make the journey.
The matron went down to the depot with her, to see her off, and prayed
that the girl would not change her mind ere she reached her destination.
The train moved off, and she waved her handkerchief to the sweet, sad,
tear-stained face pressed close to the window-pane until a curve in the
road hid it from her sight; then she turned away with a sigh.
Bernardine fell back in her seat, not caring whether or not she lived to
reach her destination.
It was almost dusk when the train reached the lovely little village of
Lee, nestling like a bird's nest amid the sloping green hills.
Bernardine stepped from the car, then stood quite still on the platform,
and looked in bewilderment around her.
Mrs. Gardiner had written that she would send a conveyance to the
station to meet her; but Bernardine saw none.
While she was deliberating as to whether she should inquire the way to
the Gardiner place of the station agent, that individual suddenly turned
out the lights in the waiting-room, and in an instant had jumped on a
bicycle and dashed away, leaving Bernardine alone in a strange place.
At that moment, a man stepped briskly beneath the swinging light. One
glance, and she almost swooned from horror.
The man was Jasper Wilde!