"PAPA, DARLING, IT IS I, YOUR LITTLE KATHLEEN!"
The world says now I am dead; but, oh,
Lean down and listen. 'Tis all in vain!
Again in my heart bleeds the cruel blow;
Again I am mad with the old-time pain!
CARLOTTA PERRY.
It snowed in Boston that night when Ivan Belmont came home on his usual
mission--to extort money by begging, coaxing, threats or curses--(he
usually tried all in succession before he succeeded)--from the rich
widow, his mother, and the heiress, his sister.
And he was wont to say on these occasions that he would almost rather
_work_ for the money than to extort it from those two penurious women,
they were so close-fisted and quarrelsome.
It was quite true what he said. Money he _would_ have, but he was so
spendthrift and reckless that his mother groaned in spirit over his
excesses, and often flatly refused him a penny.
Then he would have recourse to Alpine, and he never left until he
secured it, although he invariably had to raise a storm before he
succeeded.
His periodical pirating visits grew to be deplored by the whole
household, even by the servants, who knew that the effects of his
demands were to be dreaded for days, in the increased harshness and
ill-temper of the two women they served.
To-night the contest had raged hotter than ever before and only the
threat of criminal deeds, unless his demands were met, had sufficed to
draw gold from the pockets of his relatives.
Chuckling over his success, he left the house and prepared to face the
raging storm outside on his way back to the distant city whence he had
come.
Crushing his hat down over his face, he hurried down the marble steps,
pausing at the bottom in surprise at seeing the cloaked figure of a
female in the act of ascending the steps.
The glare of a street-lamp shone full on the scene. Curiosity prompted
him to stare at the beautiful white face upraised timidly to his own.
As he did so, his own face whitened with horror, his eyes dilated, his
limbs trembled with fear.
"My God!" he muttered, hoarsely; and turning, fled from the spot in mad
haste, like one pursued by fiends.
He believed that he had seen a veritable ghost, for it was the
pale, lovely face of Kathleen Carew into which he had gazed so
wildly--Kathleen, whom he believed dead. So he fled from the spot as
wildly as his trembling limbs would permit.
Kathleen had always disliked and despised Ivan Belmont, so she only
smiled scornfully at his precipitate flight, and began to ascend the
marble steps, her heart beating with joy at the thought of meeting her
father again.
"I wonder if James will be frightened, too, and run away, thinking me a
ghost?" she murmured, with a sad little smile, as she rang the bell.
But it was not James who opened the door to her; it was a total
stranger, who stared in surprise at the sight of a beautiful,
refined-looking young girl out alone on such a stormy night.
All the old servants had been discharged after Kathleen's death,
because they had irritated Mrs. Carew by grieving after their young
mistress.
So the man looked in wonder at the strange young girl with the rich
golden hair and flashing dark eyes who stepped across the threshold as
if she belonged there, and said to him with gentle imperiousness:
"Tell your master there is a young lady to see him."
Without waiting for a reply, Kathleen brushed past the astonished
servant, entered a small reception-room on her right, and sat down to
await the entrance of her father.
She had not mentioned her name, because she wanted to take him by
surprise.
She wanted to see the joy-light flash into his handsome face when she
should throw herself into his arms and cry out, tenderly:
"Papa, darling, it is I, your little Kathleen, come home to you again!"
How glad he would be to see her again! He had always loved her so
fondly that his heart must have almost broken when they told him she
was dead.
And how glad he would be to have her back again. How his eyes would
flash when she told him how wretchedly she had been treated. He would
certainly call in the strong arm of the law to punish her persecutors.
Only she did not want them to do anything to old Mrs. Hoover, the kind
matron who had befriended her in the asylum.
She sunk down into a beautiful satin chair with a sigh of relief at
getting back to papa and home again--her beautiful home, so warm, so
luxurious, filled with the rich odor of hot-house flowers, in strong
contrast to the storm raging bleakly outside.
The man-servant, somewhat amazed at her coolness in entering the
reception-room, but supposing her to be some intimate friend of the
family, went in search of his mistress.
"A young lady is in the small reception-room asking for Mr. Belmont,"
he said.
He had naturally supposed that Kathleen meant Ivan Belmont, as he was
the only man connected with the house.
"Did you send Mr. Belmont to her?"
"He had just gone out, madame, and she did not wait for me to tell her,
but brushed past me and went into the room," he replied.
"Impertinent!" exclaimed the lady, in angry surprise. "I will go and
see what she wants," she added, rising and throwing down her novel to
go.
She was already in a towering rage, because she had been bullied by
Ivan into giving him five hundred dollars a few minutes ago, and the
idea that a woman, one of his low associates, most probably, had had
the effrontery to follow him here, added fuel to the flame of her fury.
Kathleen heard the swish of a silken robe, and the heavy curtains
parted and fell behind the tall and stately form of her handsome
step-mother.
The girl rose up--grieved that it was not her father, but so glad to
be safe at home again that she was almost glad to see again the wicked
woman who was the cause of all her trouble.
"Mamma!" she faltered, using the name she had been taught to give her
cruel step-mother, and Mrs. Carew, who had been advancing angrily
toward her, recoiled with a smothered cry and starting eyes.
Kathleen came toward her with eager, imploring hands outstretched in
greeting.
"Do not be frightened, mamma, I am not a ghost, I am human," she said,
sweetly; but Mrs. Carew, who had sunk down on her knees in mortal
terror, waved her back.
"Back, back!" she breathed, hoarsely; and Kathleen saw that she
believed herself haunted by the spirit of her dead step-daughter.
She went back to her seat and began to explain her appearance in
soothing tones:
"It was all a mistake, mamma. I was in a trance, not really dead, and
I came to myself in the coffin that night, and dazed and frightened
lest they should bury me alive, I ran away into the woods. Some people
caught me and put me into a lunatic asylum, from which I have just
escaped!"