CHAPTER XLII.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 331, 5 January 1889, Page 4

CHAPTER XLII.

FURTHER DEVKLOrMEKTS. Mr Huntress was struck dumb with ns" tonishrnent by this unexpected declaration ; but Geoffrey sprang forward, clasped that extended hand, and exclaimed, in a voice that shook with emotion : ' Oh, sir, I can never express my gratitude for that blessed assurance !' Colonel Mapleson's fingei's closed almost convulsively over the you nee man's hand, while ho turned his gaze upon him, searching his faco with eager, hungry eyes. ' Geoffrey,' he murmured, in a trembling tone, 'you arc my Annie's bow' His lips quivered, a great trembling seized him, and he seemed on the point of breaking down utterly. It was several minutes before he could collect himself sufficiently to sper>k, although he struggled manfully with his emotion. At length he turned again to Geoffrey, to whose hand ho had clung all the time, saying : 'How like you are to Everet, my other son. I mistook you for him when 1 first entered the room ' 'So you did upon one other occasion, if you remember,' Geoffrey returned. The man made a gestuie of pain. 'Ah !' he said, humbly, 'jou will forgive me, I hope, when I explain why I avoided you at that time. But r.hi« meeting has unnerved me. 1 find myself unable to either think or speak collectedly. Will you both remove- 3'our outer coats, and then, Geoffrey, tell me the story of your life— of your adoption by this gentleman while I ti y to recover myself. But first t^ll me have you both dined? Shall I not order something for you ?' he concluded with thoughttul hospitality. They assured him that they had dined just before leaving Richmond, and needed nothing; and then ha\injr removed their ovei coats as requested, Geoffrey began his tale. His face had brightened wondei fully during the last few moments; thcexpie?sion of tense anxiety, of doubt and apprehension, had all faded "from it, and he looked more like himself than he had done since the day of his interrupted marriage : it was such a blessed relief to know that no stigma was attached to his birth. He told all that he had learned of his history through Jack and Margaret Henley, and how he had so strangely come upon them while striving to follow up the faint clue that he had obtained at Saratoga : of his having been found so helpless and forlorn in New York by Mr Huntress ; of the restoration of his mental faculties through his kindness and interest, and of the happy life that he had since led as a member of his household. The only incidents that he omitted were those in which Everet— his father's other son — had been concerned, and which he would not then pain him by mentioning, though possibly they might have to be told later. Colonel Mapleson listened with rapt interest and attention throughout the whole recital, and appeared deeply moved dining that portion which related to his mental infirmity. When it was all told, he seemed to fall into a painful reverie ; his face was inexpressibly sad, his attitude despondent, as if memories of the past which had thus been aroused, came crowding thick and fast upon him, filling him w ith sorrow and regret. Finally he aroused himself, with a longdrawn sigh, and rising, went to a handsome desk which was in the room, in which he unlocked a small drawer, and taking a package from it, brought and laid it upon the table by which Geolirey was sitting ' I had grow n to feel almost as ii this portion of my life had been blotted out,' he said ; ' at least until it wa& so suddenly recalled to me by meeting you at Saratoga last summer. But our mistakes i"ise up and comfort us ; our sins find us out when we least expect it. Open that boy, Geoflrey, and draw what comfort you can from its contents.' Geoffrey's face flushed at being thus addressed. He had come there with his heart full of bitterness toward the man who he believed had done his mother an irrepaiablewionjj. But now he found those feeling* fast changing to pity and sympathy for him. His manly confession had more than half conquered him at the outset, while his tender memories of the acknowledged wife of his youth, and the fond inflection with wbicli his voice was filled every time he uttered his own name, told him that some of his dearest hope 3 had clustered around those early diys when he had been a wee infant, and stirred a tenderness within his own heart for his father which he never imagined he could feel. He untied the faded blue ribbon that bound the box which Colonel Maplet>on had given him, with fingers that trembled visibly, removed the lid and found a thin, folded paper within. He opened it. It was an old telegram addressed to William Mapleson, Santa Fe, New Mexico, and contained these words : ' I will come, Will. Start at ten on the eighth.' There was another paper underneath this and his heart beat rapidly as he drew it forth. A blur came before his eyes, a nervous trembling seized him, making the paper rattle in his grasp, for something seemed to tell him even before he lookel at it, what it was. Yes, it was even as he had surmised, for there, in black and white as plain and strong as the law could make it, was the certificate which proved the legality of the bond that united William Maple&on and Annie Dale, and dated only a few days later than the telegram which he had but just seen. They had been married in Kansas City immediately upon the arrival of Miss Dale, by the Rev. Dr. A. K. Bailey, of the Episcopal Church. A song of thanksgiving aro?e in Geoffrey's heait as he read this, for it proved that his mother had been an honoured wife — that no stain had ever rested on his birth ; he was the legitimate hun of William and Annie Mapleson, and the burden of fear and dread that had so long oppressed him was rolled away from his heart at last. There was something else in one corner at the bottom of the box— a tiny case of black morocco. Geoffrey seized it eagerly, turned back the lid, and a small, heavy ring of gold lay before him. His heart leaped anew at the sight of it ; nothing had been neglected to do honour to the beautiful girl whom William Mapleson had loved. %) He turned it toward the light and read on its inner surface ' W. M. to A. J)., Aug. 12th, 18—.' A heavy sigh that was almost a sob burst from him, though it w r as one of joy instead ot sorrow. • A fortune could not purchasethepe from

me,' ho said, looking up with moist oyos, j while bo voverontly laid baclc in their place the priceless treasures he had found. A spasm of pain contracted Colonel Mapleson's face at his words, for be could well understand the feeling thai lay behind them, and ho could not fail to realise, too, something ot tho questionable position which his boy had occupied all his life. He was veiy grave and thoughtful, and Mr Huntress, as he watched him, could see that ho was struggling with some weighty matter that, lay upon his conscience. At length he lifted his head with a quick, resoluto motion, showing that he had settled it, whatever it was. 'Mr Huntress and Geoffrey, 1 he said, glancing from ono to the other ; c I have a long story to tell you, and a hard one, too, for nob a soui in tho world sa\ o you two and the clergyman \\ ho performed the ceremony really know that I was ever married before the present Mrs Mapleson became my wife. I am bound to tell this story not only to yon, but also to her ; that, as yon cannot tail to understand, will be the hardest part of my confession.' Both his listeners sympathised with him deeply. They could easily peiceivo how humiliating it would be to this proud man to make oiicli a disclosure to his wife after having deceived her for more than a score of years ; 3'et both know that it was an act of justice which should be performed in order that Geoffrey might bo acknowledged as a son and heir, and thus attain his proper position in the m orld. ' It is a painful story, too,' tho colonel went on, ' for, Geoffrey, I loved your mother with all the (strength of toy nature — as a man loves but ence in his life — and when I lost her the whole world became a blank to me, while even now it is almost more than I can bear to speak of it. I cannot tear the wound open and live over all that experience more than once, and, if you do not Gbject, I would like Mrs Mapleson to be present v, hile I make my confession.' Mi* Huntress urged him to act according to his own wishes in the matter. As far as lie was conceited Mrs Maplcon's presence Mould make no difference, unless the situation should prove to be too trying for her. ' She must know it within a few hours at the farthest, and it will also be necessary for her to meet, you ; *o it might as well be done at once. What do you say, Geoffrey ?' Colonel Mapleson asked, turning to his son. 'Do just what you think Mill be for the best, sir,' he replied ; and his father immediately arose and left the room. ' Estelle,' he said, going into his wife's I boudoir, Mhere she sat, handsome and stately, reading the last "Atlantic Monthly," ' will you come down to the library foralittle while? I have some callers to whom I M'ish to introduce you.' Something unusual in her husband's tone made Mrs Mapleson drop her book and search hit- lace. He was white to his lips. ' Whj', William, what ails you? Has anything happened Everet ?' she questioned, anxiously, her motherhood aroused for her child. ' Everet i* well, a? far as I know, but ' ' Surely you are ill, or you have had bad news ?' =he interrupted. ' Ko, lam not ill, although some business of a painful nature has upset me a trifle,' he answered, knowing that he was looking wretched, and not attempting to conceal his agitation. ' You know 1 do not like to be mixed up with business transactions,' his wife leplied, M'ith an impatient shrug of her shapely shoulders. ' But I particularly desire yom presence Mhilelmakc a statement to these gentlemen,' Colonel Mapleson said, striving to speak more calmly, though the hand that M r as zesting on the back of Mrs Mapleson's chair trembled in a way to really startle her. ' Why, William,' she &aid, facing him, ' have you been getting into financial trouble at your time of life ?' • Ko ; it is an eiroi — a mistake made long years ago that I wish to rectity,' hegra\ely answered. • Who are these people?' she asked, still searching his face, earnestly. 4 A Mr Huntress and his son trom Kew York." 'Huntress!' repeated the lady, reflectively. ' Where have I heard that name before ?' ' Never mind now, Estelle ; you can think of that =>ome other time. Please do not keep me waiting.' Xot a word was spoken by either as they passed down the grand staircase. Colonel Mapleson was too absorbed in the painful duty before him, while 'coming events' seemed aheady to have 'cast their shadows' upon the handsome face and proud spititof his wife. A painful expression almost convulsed Colonel Mapleson's face as he paused irresolute a moment before the library door. But hi-3 hesitation was only for an in stant. The next he turned the handle, led his wife within the room, when ho closed and locked the door to insute freedom fiom interruption. Then he led his companion straight to August Huntress. ' Mr Huntiess, allow me to present to you my wife, Mr^ Mapleson, 1 he said by way of introduction. The lady glanced 'nto the gentleman's face. Instantly her own froze into a look of horror ; a shock went quivering through her frame like the blow of an axe upon a tree. She started wildly back from him, her eyes dilated, her lips apart. ' Ay/just Damon P she gasped, and sank fainting to the floor.