"Alas! Why Did She Do It?" 5
CHAPTER II.
After Sixteen Years 7
CHAPTER III.
"This Prince Karl--This Ralph Chainey--is My Rescuer at Newport
Last Summer," Whispered the Romantic Girl 11
CHAPTER IV.
"I Distinctly Forbid You to Know this Actor," said Mrs. Carew 15
CHAPTER V.
Mrs. Carew is Mysteriously Absent 19
CHAPTER VI.
Kathleen's Defiance 23
CHAPTER VII.
"Mrs. Carew is Going to Make You Marry Her Son," said the Maid 27
CHAPTER VIII.
"Please Buy My Diamond Necklace," said Kathleen 33
CHAPTER IX.
Murdered! 37
CHAPTER X.
At Dead of Night 40
CHAPTER XI.
The Fatal Telegram 45
CHAPTER XII.
"Kathleen, I Swear that I Will Avenge Your Murder!" 50
CHAPTER XIII.
Another Mystery 53
CHAPTER XIV.
A Strange Fate 57
CHAPTER XV.
Poor Daisy Lynn 63
CHAPTER XVI.
Kathleen's Desperation and Her Escape 70
CHAPTER XVII.
"Will You be My Own Sweet Wife, Kathleen?" 74
CHAPTER XVIII.
Kathleen's Disappearance 79
CHAPTER XIX.
"Ralph Chainey is a Married Man!" 83
CHAPTER XX.
Kathleen Makes a Startling Discovery 88
CHAPTER XXI.
Was Ralph Chainey a Villain? 91
CHAPTER XXII.
Rescued 93
CHAPTER XXIII.
"Papa, Darling, It is I, Your Little Kathleen!" 97
CHAPTER XXIV.
Turned Out Into the Storm 102
CHAPTER XXV.
Teddy Darrell Again 105
CHAPTER XXVI.
"I Would Lay Down My Life to Serve You!" said Teddy 107
CHAPTER XXVII.
Alpine's Renewed Hopes 111
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Teddy Darrell's Plans 115
CHAPTER XXIX.
Fedora's Escape 119
CHAPTER XXX.
"My Darling Girl, I'm as Fond of You as Ever!" 122
CHAPTER XXXI.
Kathleen's Weary Waiting 126
CHAPTER XXXII.
"We Have Met--We Have Loved--We Have Parted!" 128
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Ralph Chainey's Anger 133
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Alpine Sows the Seed of Jealousy 135
CHAPTER XXXV.
Alpine's Falsehood 138
CHAPTER XXXVI.
A Cruel Stab 142
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Ralph Chainey is Driven to Desperation, and Turns on His Foe 146
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
"I Have Come for My Diamonds," Kathleen said to the Jeweler 148
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Kathleen Before Her Father's Portrait 153
CHAPTER XL.
A New-found Relative 157
CHAPTER XLI.
Ralph's Letter 160
CHAPTER XLII.
"You Shall Not Marry Ralph Chainey!" Uncle Ben Cried Violently 162
CHAPTER XLIII.
The Old Housekeeper's Story 167
CHAPTER XLIV.
Grandmother Franklyn 171
CHAPTER XLV.
Ivan Receives a Check in His Career 175
CHAPTER XLVI.
"I Have Betrayed Myself. You Know My Heart Now." 177
CHAPTER XLVII.
A Terrible Crime 181
CHAPTER XLVIII.
"Kathleen Has Mysteriously Disappeared." 184
CHAPTER XLIX.
The Franklyns at Last! 188
CHAPTER L.
"She Was My Mother." 192
CHAPTER LI.
A Cousin for a Lover 195
CHAPTER LII.
The Search for Kathleen 198
CHAPTER LIII.
"Oh, Sir, Have Pity on Me!" prayed Daisy Lynn 200
CHAPTER LIV.
"Is This Your Niece?" 205
CHAPTER LV.
Kathleen and Daisy Meet at Last 207
CHAPTER LVI.
"So Shines a Good Deed in a Naughty World." 210
CHAPTER LVII.
Mrs. Carew Triumphs in Her Sweet Revenge Upon Kathleen 212
CHAPTER LVIII.
"I Will Never Humble Myself to You Again." 214
CHAPTER LIX.
Oh, Ralph Chainey, Wake! 217
CHAPTER LX.
"My Love Shall Call Him Back from the Grave!" 220
CHAPTER LXI.
She Loved Much 223
CHAPTER LXII.
"God Bless Brave, Bonny Kathleen Carew!" 225
CHAPTER LXIII.
Within Prison Bars 227
CHAPTER LXIV.
"Your Father is George Harrison, the Convict!" 231
CHAPTER LXV.
A Startling Dénouement 234
CHAPTER LXVI.
"I Will Go to the Old Haunted Mill," said Kathleen Bravely 239
CHAPTER LXVII.
Teddy's Love Letters 242
CHAPTER LXVIII.
In Mortal Peril 244
CHAPTER LXIX.
"I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen." 252
KATHLEEN'S DIAMONDS
OR
SHE LOVED A HANDSOME ACTOR
CHAPTER I.
"ALAS! WHY DID SHE DO IT?"
What is the matter? Oh, nothing--a girl
Is found here in suicide rest.
Romantic? Of course; here's a rich, dark curl
On the beautiful, blue-veined breast.
AMELIA V. PURDY.
Incredible, you say?
Alas, it was too true!
She was dead by her own hand, the beautiful child-wife of Vincent
Carew, the millionaire--dead in her youth and beauty, leaving behind
her all that life held for a worshipped wife and loving mother; for
upstairs at this moment in the silken nursery her child, the baby
Kathleen, barely six months old, lay sweetly sleeping, watched by an
attentive French _bonne_, while in the darkened parlor below, the
girlish mother, not yet eighteen, lay pale and beautiful in her coffin,
with white flowers blooming on the pulseless breast, hiding the crimson
stain where the slight jeweled dagger from her hair had sheathed itself
in her tortured heart.
She was so young, so ignorant, or surely she would have held back her
suicidal hand--she would have taken pity on her child, the dark-eyed
little heiress she was leaving motherless in the wide, wide world
that, whatever else it may give us, can not make up for the loss of the
best thing life has to offer--a mother's love!
It is always a terrible misfortune to a young girl to be motherless,
and it was going to be the tragedy of Kathleen Carew's life that she
had no mother. The dagger-thrust that let out the life-blood of unhappy
Zaidee Carew turned the whole course of her daughter's life aside into
different channels.
But that lay in the future. _Now_ all Boston wondered over the tragic
death of Vincent Carew's wife, and people asked each other in dismay:
"Why did she do it?"
No one could answer that question.
The world thought that the young wife was perfectly happy.
And why not? Surely she had good cause.
Vincent Carew, the rich bachelor, who was a power in politics, and
aspired to be governor of his state, had married Zaidee Franklyn out of
a poverty-stricken home, lifting her at a bound to rank and fortune,
and all for love of her fair face.
He had snapped his white fingers in the face of the world that called
his marriage a _mésalliance_, and carried everything by storm. For his
sake, society--cultured Boston society--had received his wife, the
lovely young Southern girl, with her shy ways and neglected education,
and for a time all went well.
So no one could answer the question why did she kill herself, but
that was because Vincent Carew was too proud to admit the ubiquitous
reporter inside his aristocratic portals. If one of these curious
mortals had secured admittance to the house and questioned the
servants, they would have told him what they suspected and discussed
in whispers among themselves--that madame was madly jealous of the
teacher her husband had employed to finish her very imperfect education.
"She is a snake in the grass, that pretty widow, and she makes my
mistress unhappy," said the housekeeper, the first month that Mrs.
Belmont came, and her opinion was adopted by all the other servants.
They all hated the stately young widow in her black garments, and when
the grewsome tragedy of Mrs. Carew's death darkened the sunlight in
that luxurious home, they whispered to each other that it was Mrs.
Belmont who had worked their mistress such bitter woe that she could
not bear her life.
If indeed she had schemed for anything like this, Mrs. Belmont had
succeeded in her designs. Zaidee Carew, with her own dimpled, white
hand, had cut the Gordian knot of life, and in a few more days a
stately funeral _cortège_ moved away from Vincent Carew's doors to the
cemetery where his dead wife, in all her youthful beauty, was laid to
rest beneath the grass and flowers.