Virgie's Inheritance Part 24

"Oh, Heaven, spare me deeper sorrow! oh, do not confirm my shame!"

It was some time before she could compose herself enough to read that fatal missive, but at length she unfolded it and began to peruse it.

"Dear Myra," the letter began, "you may be surprised by the contents of this, but I cannot bring myself to address that person by the name which she claims, and so feel compelled to ask you to oblige me by giving her a message, or, perhaps what would be better, allow her to read this letter for herself. My brother is away from home just now, and, as my custom is in his absence, I open all letters of a private nature, and act as I judge best regarding them. The wildest epistle imaginable came to him yesterday and I was thankful that he was away, for he is so very happy that it must have shocked him exceedingly and I shall need to communicate its contents very delicately to him.

"That girl of whom you wrote me in your last actually claims to be his lawful wife--believes it, I suppose, poor child--and cannot understand how utterly impossible it would be for any one belonging to an old and honorable family like ours to ally himself with one so low in the social scale. I am shocked that my brother should have been guilty of anything so out of character as she represents while he was abroad. I am sincerely sorry for the wrong which it appears he has done her, if what she says is true, and shall insist that he provide comfortably for her for the future; but, of course, the idea that she has a right to come here as mistress is preposterous, and I trust that you will make it appear so to her. Advise her to renounce at once all claim to the name, and settle quietly in some place where she is not known, and perhaps she may be able to bring up her child in a respectable way, so that its prospects will not be hampered in the future by its mother's mistake.

"Will and Margie returned while I was writing to you, and both look so well and happy that it does my heart good to see them. Of course I had to stop for awhile, but now I will try and finish my letter. I have had a serious talk with my brother, and he appears to feel very much troubled over his American escapade, confessed that he had done wrong, and gave me this hundred pound note, which I inclose for the benefit of the girl; and I sincerely trust she will do nothing more to disturb a happy household, and one which will be very much annoyed by any useless scandal."

There followed a little more pertaining in an indifferent way to the above household, but Virgie had read enough, and the letter fell from her nerveless fingers, while she sat staring vacantly before her, her brain almost turned by the heartless words she had just read, her heart broken with its weight of woe, while a feeling of utter wretchedness and desolation made her long for death to steep her senses in oblivion.

She forgot all about the paper which had been given her with the letter, while the hundred-pound note, which had been inclosed with it, had fluttered out unheeded as she drew it from the envelope, and now lay upon the floor at her feet.

Later she examined the paper, and found a notice of the marriage of William Heath and Margaret Stanhope. Whether Lady Linton had been the cause of it to further her schemes, or whether some strange fatality had occasioned the mistake, it would be difficult to say, but the paragraph read:

"Married:--On the 28th instant, in the Heath Chapel, Sir William Heath, of Heathdale, to Miss Margaret Stanhope, only daughter of the late Sidney Stanhope."

Thus was added the last drop to the cup of bitterness which Virgie had to drink.

There had been a strange mixture of truth and falsehood in the letter which Lady Linton wrote to Mrs. Farnum.

Her brother was away for a day or two on a matter of business when Virgie's imploring epistle arrived--a circ.u.mstance for which his sister was most thankful, for it was no trifling matter for her to be always on the alert to intercept the letters that pa.s.sed, through the bag at Heathdale. But she had succeeded in accomplis.h.i.+ng this by having had an extra key made for the lock and always accompanying the carriage when it went for the mail.

This drive she called her "const.i.tutional," and as the carriage was a closed one, she could readily unlock the bag and abstract the letters she wanted without being seen, and consequently was never suspected of having anything to do with the interrupted correspondence of Sir William and Virgie.

She had also been interrupted while writing to Mrs. Farnum by the return of her brother and the entrance of her cousin's new wife. Afterward she had had a talk with Sir William, in which he confessed to feeling greatly "troubled" regarding Virgie and her long, unaccountable silence. He said he felt that he had "done wrong" to have left her so long, for, as it had proved, his mother was gradually though slowly improving, and he might have gone and returned without affecting her health; he should see Sir Herbert Randal when he came again, and make arrangements to sail immediately for America. But Lady Linton cunningly provided against this calamity by privately informing the physician that her mother was worrying over this threatened departure, and he succeeded in prevailing upon the baronet to wait a week or two longer.

Sir William had, indeed, given his sister a hundred-pound note, but it was for the benefit of a poor girl who had been crippled by a railway accident; and thus all these circ.u.mstances being artfully woven into her letter had something of truth in them, and helped to serve the scheming woman's purpose.

Chapter XVIII.

"I Will Prove It."

It was very fortunate for Virgie that she had a little one at this time, else she would have deemed life scarcely worth the living, so stunned and crushed was she by the terrible blow that had fallen upon her.

For two long hours, after reading that letter from Lady Linton, and the paper containing that paragraph of William Heath's marriage, she lay as if paralyzed upon her bed. One would hardly believe that she lived at all, but for that look of unutterable woe in her eyes and the expression of agony about her mouth.

But she was aroused at last to a sense of her duties and responsibilities as a mother, by the crying of little Virgie in the outer room; and yet that cry was like another dagger plunged into her heart, for it reminded her that, if the dreadful things which she had been told were true, her whole future was dishonored--that she was a betrayed and deserted woman and her child nameless.

"Oh, Heaven! it cannot be!" she cried, lifting her arms with a gesture of despair and locking her fingers in a convulsive clasp above her head, while her mind went back over the past and reviewed every event that had occurred since the beginning of her acquaintance with Sir William Heath.

She had believed in him so thoroughly, he had seemed so n.o.ble and true, so entirely above all deception and double dealing. He had appeared to love her so devotedly, had been so proud of her as the future mistress of his beautiful home, and so supremely happy in the antic.i.p.ation of the coming of their little one. He had hoped for a son and heir, and yet he had expressed no disappointment upon learning that their child was a daughter; he had welcomed the little stranger most tenderly in his letter and fondly named her, to please himself, for her mother.

He had seemed so impatient and regretful at the thought of leaving her so long alone, and had promised to come to her the moment that he could safely leave his mother.

All this made it very difficult for Virgie to believe in his apparent perfidy and treachery, and yet the evidence against him seemed so overwhelming that she was convinced in spite of herself.

She did not dream of a plot against her, for she could not conceive of any motive for one; but his letters had suddenly ceased and she could not believe accident had caused it, when she had written again and again telling him of it and pleading for but a word from him.

Then she had heard that story of the engagement to Margaret Stanhope, then the account of the marriage at Heathdale, by Lady Linton, who appeared entirely ignorant of her existence even; and taking all this into consideration, together with the notice which had appeared in the paper sent to Mrs. Farnum she felt obliged to accept the fact of Sir William's intentional treachery and desertion.

Yet in the face of everything she clung to the conviction that she was a lawful wife--that her child was the heiress of Heathdale; but the difficulty was to prove it.

"Prove it? I will prove it," she cried, and at once all that was resolute in Virginia Heath's character began to struggle to a.s.sert itself, and she went forth from her chamber, at that cry from little Virgie, with an unflinching purpose written upon her heart.

The nurse cried out in alarm as she saw her white face and sunken eyes.

"You are ill, madam," she exclaimed. "Go back to bed--the baby will do well enough with me."

"No, I am not ill," Virgie answered, as she took her little one, but she spoke in a strained, unnatural tone, adding, "I would like you to go to Mrs. Farnum's door and say that I desire a 'few moments' interview with her."

The woman went to do her bidding, but muttered with a troubled look:

"These English people seem to bring nothing but sorrow and mischief to the poor thing, in spite of their sweet ways and honeyed speeches; I wish they'd clear out--and whatever her husband can mean to leave her here alone so long and not a line to tell her why is more'n I can make out."

Mrs. Farnum obeyed Virgie's request with some misgivings; but she saw at once upon entering the room that the young wife believed the very worst, and she was half frightened at the result of her work.

Virgie arose as she entered, her baby clasped close in her arms, and handed her the letter which she had sent her to read.

"Here is your letter, Mrs. Farnum," she said, with a cold dignity that awed her visitor, "and you will find the note inclosed with it. Please be particular to have it returned to the one who sent it."

"But, my dear, will you not need it yourself?" interrupted the woman with a.s.sumed kindness.

Virgie's lips curled.

"It was an unpardonable insult to offer it to me," she said, with spirit.

"I cannot understand how they dared to send it to me in any such way; indeed, I cannot understand a good many things that have come to me through you. If Sir William Heath has wilfully done me this irreparable injury he might at least have been man enough to strike the blow himself, rather than employ women to be his emissaries."

Mrs. Farnum winced.

"Ah! but you forget--"

"I forget nothing; do you suppose that I could?" cried Virgie, sharply, "but I might at least have been spared this last indignity--to offer me a paltry hundred pounds when he has a fortune in his hands belonging to me."

"A fortune! I did not suppose--I did not know that you had any money,"

stammered Mrs. Farnum, looking blank.

"My father left me a good many thousands of dollars when he died; it was all settled upon me at the time of my marriage, but Sir William Heath took charge of it and has it now. He deposited five thousand dollars in a bank here for my use, while he should be away, and the most of that remains; but there is much more that rightly belongs to me," Virgie explained.

"Then this hundred pounds surely is your due," Mrs. Farnum said, as she drew it from the envelope and held it out to the young wife.

Virgie drew back haughtily.