CHAPTER I. A STRANGE ADVENTURE.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 290, 15 August 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER I. A STRANGE ADVENTURE.

It was a beautiful winter night. The sky was brilliant with millions of beautiful stars that glowed and sointillated as if conscious that their light had never before penetrated an atmosphere so raiificd and pure. The earth was" covered with a glaring coat of ice above newly-fallen anow. Trees and shrubs bent low and gracefully beneath their weight of icy jewels which adorned every twig and branch. Every roof and spire, chimney and turret, gleamed like frosted siher beneath the star-Ht heavens, while the overhanging eaves below were fringed with myriads of glistening points that seemed like pendulous diamonds, catching and refracting every ray of light from oho glittering: vault above and the gao-lit streets beneath. But it was a night, too, oE intense cold. Never within the remembrance of its oldest inhabitant had the meicury fallen so low in the city of Boston, as on this nineteenth of January, 185 — . So scvero was the weather that nearly every street was deserted at an early hour of 'bhe evening ; scarcely a pedestrian was to be seen at nine o'clock, and the brilli.-nbly lighted thoroughfares had a lonely and desolate appearance without their accustomed flow of life and humanity. The luckless policemon, who alone paraded the sidewalk* on their lound of duty, would now and then slink into sheltered nooks and doorways for the brief respite from the stinging, frosty air. where they would vainly stiive to excite a better circulation by the active swinging of arms and the vigorous stampingof feet. Even the horse-cars and omnibuses were scantily patronised, while the jroor dii\eis, muffled to their eyebrows in fur coats and comforters, seemed like dark, grim specties. devoid of life and motion", save for the breath that issued from their mouths and nostrils, and, concealing, formed in frozen globules among their beards. At ten o'clock on this bitter night, Thomas Turner, M.D., was arranging his oflice preparatory to retiring, and feeling profoundly thankful that he had no patients who demanded his attention, and believing, too, that up one would venture loibh to call him, when, to his annoyance and dismay, his bell suddenly lang a clanging and imperath c peal. With a shiver of dread at the thought of having to -leave the warmth and eomfoit of his home to face the fearful cold, yet with a premonition that the summons would tesult in something out of the oulinary course of events, he laid down the ca=e of instruments that he had been caiefully arranging, and went to answer the call. He found a lad of perhaps fifteen >cais standing outside the door. Without a woid he thrust a card into the physician's hand. ' Come in, boy ; come in,' said the doctor, pitying the poor fellow, Avhose teeth A\ete chattering at such a rate it was doubtful whether he could have spoken it he wished. He obeyed the imitation with alacrity, however, and made directly for the radiator, towards which Dr. Turner pointed, telling him ' to go and warm himself.' ' The .physician then stepped beneath the, hall light to examine the caul he had received. It proved to be the bu&iness card of a tirst-class, though small, hotel in the' city, and on the blank side of it there, had Been hastily written t^ese wo)ds : ;" • > ' Come at once to the — —House.' a n urgent case demands ymirimmiedtMd attention. ■ ' | ";A: Payson. Clerk.' Dr. Turner frowned, and hung his head in thought for a moment. He had had a haid day ; he was vei-y weary, and . would have hesitated about answering a strange call even in mild weather, and the temptation to send the boy and his card- to someone else, and lemain in the genial warmth of his own home, was very strong. . Still, the man was conscientious*. The summons was urgent, and it might be a case of life and death. Peihaps the delay of sending to some other physician might result in the loss of a human life. This thought decided him. He turned quickjy on his heel and passed down the hall to his office, remarking to the waiting messenger as' he \vent : •Wait here. 1 wil} bo ready to return with you in a few moments.' He looked into his medicine case to see that he had everything that he wished ; ■wrapped himself in a long ulster with an ample cape; drew a fur cap down over! his ears, and a pair of seal-=kin gloves upon his hands, and then went foith with his youthful guide to face the penetiating air of this bitterly cold night. When he reached the House, he was conducted directly to a handsome suite of 1 rooms in the third storey, and ushered into the -presence of a magnificently beautiful woman, who was reclining upon a luxiuious couch. Dr. Turner had never seen a lovelier woman. She was, apparently, about twenty-one or twenty-two years of age. Her hair was very dark, almost black ; her eyes were also very dark, with straight, beautiful brows. She was deathly pale— the pillow on which she lay was scarcely whiter — but her complexion wag faultless, her skin as fine and smooth as -an infant's, while her features were remarkable for their delicacy and loveliness. Beside her, in a lower rocker, and holding one fair white' hand in both her own, there sat another woman, some two or three years older, but scarcely less beautiful, though of a different type, and looking anxious and distressed. A few direct inquiries enabled the physician to comprehend the nature of the case, after which he rapidly wrote a few lines upon a card, and, ringing lor a servant, despatched it to the clerk below. An hour later a middle-aged woman, cf respectable and motherly appearance, was conducted to the sick room, and when morning, broke there was still another presence in that chamber— a tiny baby girl, with rings of golden brown hair clustering about her little head, with eves of heaven's own blue, and delicate patrician features, which, however, were not like those of her mother, who lay &o pale and weak among her pillows, and who, strange to say, had betrayed no sign of joy or maternal love at the coining of the little stranger. Three weeks previous two ladies had arrived, late one evening, at the House, where the younger had registered as ' ilrs E. E. Marston and maid.' The clerk, aa he read the entry, had glanced with -astonishment at the lovely blonde who Jiad beeu thus designated as , maid,' for her. manner and bearing were every whit as stately, cultivated, < and pre-

possessing as that of her supposod mistress. Both ladies spoke French and German, as well as English, fluently, and it was impossible to dotcrmine to what nationality they belonged. The younger seemed almost like a Spanish beauty of high dogrcc, whilo her companion had more the appearance of an Anglo-Saxon. Both woro lichly and fashionably attired, and evidently belonged to tl<c wealthy class. Mrs Marstou worcjowcls of the purest water in the richest of sottings. Sho selected the most elegant suite of rooms that were unoccupied, and ordered all meals to bo served in her private parlour ; consequently but very liltlo was seen or known of cither misti cas or maid after their arrival, although the very fact of their so closely secluding thomsolvcs servod to excite a good deal of ciuiosity on the part of -the other inmates of the house. After the birth of Mrs Marston's little daughter. Dr. Tinner made his usual number of \ i>its to see that his patient was doing well, and then he discontinued them, although his cm iosity and interest were so excited regarding the" mysterious woman and her attendant. thaU)ic would havo been glad of an excuse to attend her evon longer. Three weeks passed,, and ho was considering the propriety of piesenting his bill, since the. lady was a bCvangor and would doubtless leave as soon as sho could do so with safety to heisclf. and her child, when one morning he received a note from Mrb Marston, requesting him to call upon her at his earliest convenience. That <Sening found him knocking at her door, his heart boating with something of excitement, and \\ ith a sense of constraint upon him, such as he had ne\cr before experienced. The 'maid ' admitted him, a dainty Hush tinging her fair cheek as she encountered his eainosfc glance, an d he thought her moic beautiful than o\er, while ho was I'umly conxinced that she was in loality no ser\ant, but connected by some tie of blood to the woman whom she piofe&sed to serve, although there was no resemblance between them. Mis Mai^ton aro^c to receive him as he entered. He had ne\er seen her dressed until now, and ho was aim &t bewildered by her biilhant beauty She \va< tall, with a symmetrical ligurc. Sho was queenly and self .possessed in her carriage, and totiayed in cveiy movement the well-bied lad}, accustomed tv the \eiy be?t of society. She was dressed in a heavy black silk, which fitted her perfectly and toll in guiceful folds lound her splendid foim. She wore no colouis, and might ha\e been in mom nine, judging from the simplicity of bur die^s, and she might not — ho could not deteimine. Her only ornaments xwmo several lings of gieat value, and ,m elegant brooch, which tautened the licit lace, line as a cobweb, about her tin oat, 'I am \ery glad to see you, Dr. Turnci," ?hc said, giaciou&ly, as she extended iiei w hife, jewelled hand 10 him ; ' and 1 thank you for le^pondino &o piomptly to my ie quest. Nellie, please lnim_r th.it loekei foi the gentleman,' .she concluded, indicating a willow cliau in another poition ot the room The maid obeyed, and then quietly withdtew. 'You at o looking lcnaikably well, Mis Marston,' Dr. Tuttiei obt>ci\ed, Inudly able to belie\ c that bhe could be the same woman who had been so pale and wan when he had tii^t seen hei . Hei complexion was almost dazzling in its pmitx, while tlic Hush on her check told of perfect health and a \igorous constitution. 'I am \eiy w ell, thank you,' she 10 sponded, somewhat coldly, as il her physical condition weie not a question • that she caied to discu&s witli him — 'so well that I am contemplating lca\ing Boston by the end of another week, and I have a -keel you to come to mo in oidcr that I may consult xou upon a matter of impoitance. line fiist, do \ou think iVhall lun any iisk in tjaxelling by that time ?' 'If anyone else had asked me that, 1 should have said at once, ' Impossible ! ' icturned the physician, smiling. 'But you have so lapidlv recupciated that I should not fear a chancre &o much for you as fot many others. It depends somewhat, howex cr, upon wheie you aic going.' Mis Marston fluthtd slightly at this, but, after an instant of he-itmon, she said, eompo:edly : ' Oh, I intend to go to a warmer climate. I shall probably .-pend the icst of the \\ inter in the South ' 'Then I think \ou may go in perfect safety, ifjou aie quite sine you ieclwell and stiony. ' 'As to that, I ncxer felt moic vigoious in r my life ; but ' T.iclady bent herhcad shape!} in thouglit, a shadow of perplexity and doubt crossing her beautiful face. • i'erhaps you fear to take the little one ? the weather is rather sex ere tor a tender infant,' sugn-esled the doctor. , ' Oh, no. I do not intend to tike the cbjld at all.' leturned the mother, quickly, a nervous tremor running tlnvugh her frjme as die spoke. ' You do not intend to take your child withjou?' repeated the physician, a.ston-i-lied, Axhilo he searched the downcast face before him with a suspicious look. 'No; and that was what 1 wished to consult xvith you about,' replied Mis Mardton, .shifting unea&ily for an instant beneath his trlancc. Then -she lifted her head proudly and met his eyes with calm hauteur. ' You xxish tv leave it out to nui.se, perhaps, and da-ii c me to suggest some proper per&on?' observed Dr. Turner, trying to explain her conduct thus. 'No,' an&wercd the lady, coldly. 'I xvish to ask if yon could reconuncn.d some institution in the city where I could put her, and where sho would receive proper care. ' Dr. Turner regarded the woman with amazement. 4 Institution, madam ! What kind of an institution V he asked, aghast. 'Some public institution or .some homo for homeless children,' she answeied, not a muscle of her beautiful face mox ing. 'I leally do not comprehend you/ the physician said, almost ready to believe that he xvas in the presence of "a lunatic, for surely no mother in her right mind could think of abandoning her child in such a heartless xvay. 'Indeed, I thought I made an explicit statement,' remarked Mrs Marston, haughtily. ' However, the child is not to go with mo. There aie reasons— imperative reasons — that compel me to dispose of her ' Abandon her, do you mean ?' questioned the physician, sternly. The iady shrugged her shapely shoulders and mode an impatient gesture, as if the subject and object were alike distasteful to her. 1 It you choose to put it in that disagreeable xvay, I suppose I sball have to accent the term,' she replied, coldly. 'But you have not answered my question. Do you knoxv of tl a home for orphans where she would be received and where I might safely leave her ? I would make it an object tor any such institution to take her,'