CHAPTER XLV.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 336, 23 January 1889, Page 6

CHAPTER XLV.

MRS MAPLESON'S CONFESSION. Colonel Mapleson regarded Ins wife as if he thought she had suddenly taken leave of her senses. August Huntress's heart was stirred with compassion for the beautiful and imperious woman, for he realised full well tiro trial that lay before her, and could understand how humiliating it must be to have her sin fiud her out at thi.« late day, when she had believed it buried for ever. All these long years she too had treasured her secret, believing: that no one save the stratige physician who had attended her at the birth of her child, and those who had adopted it, knew anything of that episode in her life, and that she had -so successfully concealed her identity at the time that it could never be discovered. ' What can you mean, Estelle?' demanded Colonel Mapleson, as soon as he could collect himself sufficiently to speak. Then, as he remembered how she had greeted Mr Huntress, how overcome she had been at sight of him, he glanced sharply at him, and knew instantly, fiom the look of sympathy on his face, that he must be in some way associated with that mysterious deception of which his wife had spoken. 'I mean,'* the wretched woman returned, in a voice of despair, while she sank weakly back into her chair, ' that the secret which you have kept concealed from me during all our married life cannot compare with what I have withheld from you ; you simply \ hid the fact of an earlier marriage and the existence of a son, while I committed a ononstron-s crime to conceal a like secret from you.' ' Good heavens, Estelle !' cried her husband, starting back from her with a look of horror at her appalling statement. c I cannot believe it,' and he, too, tank into the aearest chair, overcome with consternation, nnd actually trembling with dread of what was to iollow. Again he looked suspiciously at August Huntress, while a hundred thoughts flashed through his brain. He fully believed that he must have been connected in some way with the crime of which his wife spoke. Had she mamed him clandestinely, during those early years wlrle he had been away in the mines of Now Mexic i, and then deserted him to rein the other half of Jabez Afapleson's fortune 'arid preserve her own ? Had they met and loved each other in their youth ? Was that. the reason why Estel.e had been so indifferent to all other suitors — why she had told him she had ' not much heart to give him,* when he had asked her to marry him ? She had called him • August Dainon * when brought face to face with him, in a tone which betrayed that she had everything to fear from his presence there, and she confirmed this by fainting flit bis feet. But there were only sorrow and compassion written on Mr Huntress's face as he witnessed the proud woman's humiliation ; there was no vestige of any latent affection. no anger or harshness Puch a? thei'e would have been if she had wronged him or played Mm false ; there was no look, *-ays one of regret and sympathy, as for one he know had committed some great sin tbat had at last found her out and must be atoned for. ' What does she mean ? Do you know ?' Colonel Mapleson asked, huskily, as his visitor —perchance feeling bhe magnetism of his glance — turned his eyes from the bowed form of Mrs Mapleson to the mystified husbaud. 'I— - know something, but not all,' he answered, reluctantly. ' Then you have met my wife before ?" ' Once, and only once as I have already told you.' ' Where— under what circumstances ?' demanded the colonel, with considerable excitemen ' . 1 Pardon me,' returned Mr Huntress, with dignity, as it suddenly occurred to him what his host's suspicions might be, ' I prefer that Mrs Mapleson should herself tell you that, since it is more her secret than mine. Perhaps, however, it would be better for Geoffrey and me to letire to &ooie other room while she speaks with you alone,' and he halt rose as he spoke. But Mrs Mapleson threw out* otic clenched, jeuelled hand with an imperative gesture to check him. c No/ she ciied, o quiver of agony in her voice: 'if anyone has a right? to hear my confession— my story — you have,' and at this, Geoffrey turned a staitled face upon the man whom he had always regarded as honourable and irreproachable — one of nature's noblemen. 'Oh, the curse of gold, l ' the unhappy woman went on wildly. ' What w ill it nob tempi one to do? The of it bjnnts natural affection and honour, and warps the reason. It leads one to deceive, to scheme, and sin for the possession* of it. What blind fools men and women are, to Facrifice so much — love, a life-time of innocence, purity, and happiness, for the sake of a little paltry yellow dust! If I could but live over my life, how gladly would I endure poverty and toil and self-denial 5o secure a quiet conscience and a heai t free from its burden of sin and dread i Oh, such a life as I have led is but a miserable failure from beginning to end !' Colonel Mapleson began to be alarmed afc his wife's increasing excitement, while her remorse and her ominous allusions drove him almost distracted. He arose, and, going to her side, took her trembling hands in his, baying,; 'Estelle. it" you cannot calm youiself, I shall insist upon your going to your room j you will surely bo ill if you yield so to nervous excitement. Whatever this matter is, fchat seems to weigh so heavily upon your mind, I can wait unoil you are in a better state for its recital. Come, let me take you upstairs,' and he genUy^ried to force her to rise. But she wrenched her hards from his clasp. • No, no,' she cried, with a shiver ; * I will not carry this dreadful burden on ray heart- another hour ! For more than twenty years I have borne fche brand of an inhuman monster upon my soul, and I wonder that ifc has not transformed me into something so repulsive and loathsome that everyone would shrink from ma in fear and disgust. 1 have often looked at myself with amazement to think it wan possible for anyone to conceal so effectually the corruption and wretchedness and duplicifv of • one's nature. I believe I have realised as no one else ever did what the Saviour meant by a ' whited sepulclne full of dead men's bones. 1 William !' turning upon her husband with a wild, glittering eye, and searching his face with a glance of pitiful appeal, * I expect that you will despise and hate me — thatour eon will loathe me»— when you learn what I have to tell you.' ' The ecene was becoming very painful, and Mr Huntress, pitying her^om the depths of his heart,, arose and \valked pfiftQt her sight, feeling that he could not Iqqk .u,pc-i? her agony, while Geoffrey sab spell - bound, ' dreading the impending .displ^sure more ihan he could express.

Colonel Mapleson, feeling asif he must do ( something to calm her excitement, went to a closet, pourecb out a glass of wine and brought it to her. ' Estelle, drink this,' he said, kindly, as he put it to her lips, though his hand shook so that he could not hold the glass steadily. Shehastily swallowed it, and then pushed him from her ; it soemed as if she could not bear him near her while her sin was unconfessed — until ho should hear and judge her, and sho could know what her doom was to be. For more than twenty years he had been her husband. He had always been kind and chivalrous in his treatment of her. At first she had been proud of him for his honour and manliness, then her pride had gradually devoloped into a strong, deep affection, which, however, she had never allowed horself to parade before him, because of 'his unvarying reticence towards her. She had tried to be a good wife to him, to win his respect by her faithfulness in duty, her devotion as a mother, and his admiration by preserving her beauty and shining a star in the society they frequented, and now, after succeeding for so long a time, it drove her nearly crazy to think that perhaps the confession ot her early folly would undo all this, and breed contempt for her, or worse — his pity. His own deception seemed very, trivial compaied with hers, for a cruel fate alone had prevented him from acknowledging his wife and child whom he had fondly loved, and would have cheiished as long as they had been spaied to him, while she had deliberately planned to abandon her delicate babe, and cast it unloved upon the cave of strangeis. The wine which she had Jrunk, however, sewed to steady her nerves, and to give her strength for the trial before her. and after a few minutes she raided her white, drawn face, saying : ' Sib down all of you, foi my story is not a shorb one, though for all our sakes I will make it as biief as possible. ' You will remember, William, that after 1 came into rjossession of my half of Uncle Jabez'rf fortune, I went abroad. I had always had an intense longing to see Europe, and when the means to do so were at my disposal, I resolved bo gratify that desire. Yon know, too, that as a family we had always been poor, it had been a continual struggle with us to secure even the necessaries of life, and the battle with poverty had been a most bitter one to me. Now, I was bound to get the most I could out of life, to make up for the deprivations of my yputh, I indignantly refused to marry as ray unple desired, for I, as well as you, considered that he had no right to make any such sUpu : lations in disposing of his money ; but I was young — I had seven years before me in which to enjoj r my wealth, and I said I would spend every dollar of my income in being happy and making up to my family for the hardships of previous years. So I settled a comfortable income on my father and mother, and then, taking my sister Nellie for a companion, I sailed to Europe to gratify my taste for travel and sightseeing. We both spoke French and German fluently, for we had been faithful students, and fitted ourselves for teaching ; both were self-reliant and courageous in spite of our youth — our conflict with our unfavourable surroundings had made us so — therefore we felt competent to travel lv ourselves without a chaporon, who, y e felt, would hamper our movements. Some of the timo we had a guide, but in England, France, and Germany, we were $ble to go about quite independently. It was perhaps a daring thing to do, but Nellie was somewhat ojdpr than 1, and very self-possessed and dignified in her bearing, and we never met with the slightest inconvenience from being without an escort. We had a very pleasant time together — we had plenty of money and did nob need to stint ourselves— Nell loyed art, and I music, so for a year we put ourselves undpr the best of masters, and gave ourselves up fco thosp accomplishments, and had our fill, But I am getting somewhat ahead of my story. f While we. were in London, a few months afuer reaching England, we met a literary gentleman, a Mr Charles Southcourt, who J paid mo considerable attention, and to whom I was very strongly attached. We met often, too, upon the Continent, for he aleo was tra\ elling in search of material for hi?, writings, and our routes frequently crossed each other. Finally, during my second year abroad, he confessed his affection for me, and asked me to marry him. He was brilliant, handsome, talented, bub poor. Had he f een rich I would not have , hesitated p. moment, for I loved him ; but I knew, far too well, what poverty was to be willing to relinquish cay fortune and the handsome income it brought mo, the luxuries and pleasures it yielded me, to say , nothing of depriving my parents and ysler of the comforts and advantages they were enjoying, and I refused him. He knew that I returned his affection— he bad not dieame r lof beine rejected, and demanded the reason. I told him frankly, He then informed me that all pecuniary diffipulby could pooh be remo\e?l, for there was a prospect of l?is soon receiving a responsible appointment SQioeyjheve in the far Ea<-.t, which would secure him an ample income which, with what he should realjse from his writings, would enable him to piovide f.or the comfortable support of my family, and secure to me every" luxury which rnj' own fortune was then giving me. Would J become his wife if he secured this appointment?' he asked, I told him yes, and I believe if it had not been for depriving my delicate and aged parents and BtfitGr of the comforts they were enjoying — if I had only had myself to consider, I should have willingly thrown up my fortune and become his wife, whether he secured the appointment or not. ' Full of hope at having won my consent, Charlie returned at once to London we were at that time in Rome— bo bend all his energies to sectire his coveted position. Two mouths later, Nellie and I returned to Paris, where we were again joined by Mr Southcourb, who was jubilant, for he said he was sure of his appoinbment, and he showed me a letter, from a person high in authority, which geenjed feo promise it beyond a doubt. 'About this time we received a lejbte from home telling us that papa was failing r the physician feared the worst, and we were told to hold ourselves in readiness to return at once if he should continue to grow worse. Mamma wrote that she could nob bear to shorten our pleasure, but ahe knew that our own hearts would bid us come if they found that he could not rally ; that was, however, merely a warning to prepare us ; she would write again if there was any change for the worse. ' J told Nellie that we must go home at once ; something might happen to make papa's disease terminate suddenly, and he would die before we could possibly reach him, if we should wait to-hoar from mamma again Nellie agreed to this, but Mr Southcourb was very unhappy over our decision ; he could nob bear the thought of separation : he said something might occur to make ib final, unless I would marry him at once and give him the right to call me hh wife before I left ; in that case he could )gb me go and feel sure of me. Ab firsb I wo ( uld not lisben to bhis proposal. I knew jbub' too [wejl jfchab if my marriage was dis,povered ; the income fionj my half of Uncle

Jabez's property would be stopped, and my sick and dying father be deprived of; everything that had now become so necessary to him. But Charlie was_ so sure that he should get his appointment, when he would at once settle onethird of his income upon my parents ; he was so hopeful over his book, so importunato, and distressed at the thought of my leaving, while Nellie also thought' there could be no risk, that my scruples aud better judgment were overcome and I yielded, upon the condition that our marriage be kept a profound secret until he actually secured his position; He agreed to this, because he said he knew I should scarcely reach home before he would have fcho wherewithal to enable me to make over my share of Uncle Jabez's fortune to my cousin, without missing it, and so we were privately married in Paris just before leaving for London. ' Upon our arrival there, we found that a 'steamer had just sailed, and no other would leave for three or four days. The very next morning we received another letter from home saying that papa had rallied and was so much improved, mamma regretted she had written so discouragingly before, and told us not to think of returning until we felt entirely ready to do so. I was so happy in my new relations that I was only too glad of this respite, for the prospect of a separation from my husband was as painful to me as to him. Three short, blissful weeks after that we spent together, and then there came a startling cable message, bidding Nellie and me to return instantly.' ' Mrs Mapleson paused and struggled with herself at this point ; evidently her task was a bitter one, and almost more than she was able to accomplish. \ ' 1 cannot tell you of that parting/ she finally resumed ; ' it was almost like parting soul from body, and I shall never forget the look that was on my Charlie's faoe as he stood on the pior at Liverpool and watohed the vessel that bore us away out of sight. We reached home just in season to be recognised by papa, to receive his dying blessing, and bidding to care tenderly for mamma, and then he was gone. Our mother was utterly prostrated by his death and the watching during the long weeks of his illness, and for months she, too, seemed to be upon the borders of the grave. * Meantime, I heard regularly from Charlie ; and every letter told me of some delay regarding the decision upon his appointment, but it was sure to be all right in the end, he said, and he would let me know the very moment it was decided. ' You can easily realise that those months were anxious ones to me, for I feared, 3s3 s the guilty always fear, deception, while, too, the deaeption I was practising wos inexpressibly galling to me. Mamma rallied after a time, arid for a little while we thought she would recover, but the improvement was not lasting, and it soon became evident that consumption had fastened upon her. 'It was nearly five months since my return, and I began to be very unhappy, for there was still no favourable news from my husband. One day I was sitting alone in my room writing to him, and feeling vqry much depressed, when Nellie suddenly burst in upon me, her face all aglow, and bearing a telegram in her hand. ' ' Estelle, what will you give me for good news as last ?' she cried, gayly, and holding it above her head out of my reach,, ' • I will give you a hundred dollars, Nell, if it is good news,' I answered, springing up to take it from her, my heart beating high with hope, for I felt almost sure that the message could contain nothing else. • 1 tore it open with trembling eagerness, only to find these words within : ' Lost — appointment given a man narked Wilniot. Will write particulars.' 'It was a dreadful blow ! Nellie had read the message over my shoulder, and for a moment we were both so paralysed that we could only look into each other's face in dumb agony. Then I remembered nothing more for a while fqr a month I did npt leave my bed. During this time Charlie wrote, bitterly regretting that he had sent me the message, but saying he had promised to let me know as soon as the matter was decided, and on the impulse of the moment, his judgment blunted by his own disappointment,, he had cabled* what afterward ho realised must have beep a cruel blow to me, He said that money had bought up the position, while he had been so certain that the influence at work for him was stronger fchar any amount of bribery. 'Still,' he cheerfully concluded, 'he would try for something else, and do i his utmost to relieve me from my embarrassing position/ ' All thjs, however, was poor consolation forme; I could not confess my ma triage and. go to him a beggar in my poverty, ovon though my heart L.pged for him with all the strength of its deep and lasting love. My mother failing, slowly but surely, was dependent upon me for every comfort that she possessed, and besides this I could not make up my mind to put the ocean between u& when I knew I should never pee her again if I did. My husband h^d spoken of my ' embarrassing position,' but he did not dream one-half the truth, for I had concealed from him j the fact that I was soon to become a mother.'