CHAPTER XXII.
"I WILL RISE ABOVE MY SIN AND SHAME!"
Edith's strange visitor stood contemplating her with a look of mingledperplexity and sadness.
It was evident that she could not understand how any one could be gladto renounce a man like Emil Correlli, with the fortune and positionwhich he could give the woman of his choice.
The two made a striking tableau as they stood there facing each other,with that beautiful child between them; for in style and coloring,they were exactly the opposite of each other.
Edith, so fair and slight, with her delicate features and golden hair,her great innocent blue eyes, graceful bearing, and cultivated manner,which plainly betrayed that she had been reared in an atmosphere ofgentleness and refinement.
The other was of a far different type, yet, perhaps, not less strikingand beautiful in her way.
She was of medium height, with a full, voluptuous form, a complexionof pale olive, with brilliantly scarlet lips, and eyes like "blackdiamonds," and hair that had almost a purple tinge in its ebon masses;her features, though far from being regular, were piquant, and whenshe was speaking lighted into fascinating animation with every passingemotion.
"I shall be free!" Edith murmured again with a long-drawn sigh ofrelief, "for of course you will assert your claim upon him, and"--witha glance at the child--"he will not dare to deny it."
"You are so anxious to be free? You would bless me for helping you tobe free?" repeated her companion, studying the girl's face earnestly,questioningly.
"Ah, yes; I was almost in despair when you came in," Edith replied,shivering, and with starting tears; "now I begin to hope that my lifehas not been utterly ruined."
Her visitor flushed crimson, and her great black eyes flashed withsudden anger.
"My curse be upon him for all the evil he has done!" she cried,passionately. "Oh! how gladly would I break the bond that binds you tohim, but--I have not the power; I have no claim upon him."
Edith regarded her with astonishment.
"No claim upon him?" she repeated, with another glance at the littleone who was gazing from one to another with wondering eyes.
The mother's glance followed hers, and an expression of despair sweptover her face.
"Oh, Holy Virgin, pity me!" she moaned, a blush of shame mantling hercheeks.
Then lifting her heavy eyes once more to Edith, she continued,falteringly:
"The boy is his and--mine; but--I have no legal claim upon him--I amno wife."
For a moment after this humiliating confession there was an unbrokensilence in that elegant room.
Then a hot wave of sympathetic color flashed up to Edith's brow, whilea look of tender, almost divine, compassion gleamed in her lovelyeyes.
For the time she forgot her own wretchedness in her sympathy for hererring and more unfortunate sister--for the woman and the mother whohad been outraged beyond compare.
At length she raised her hand and laid it half-timidly, but withexceeding kindness, upon her shoulder.
"I understand you now," she said, gently, "and I am very sorry."
The words were very simple and commonplace; but the tone, the look,and the gesture that accompanied them spoke more than volumes, andcompletely won the heart of the passionate and despairing creaturebefore her for all time.
They also proved too much for her self-possession, and, with a moan ofanguish, throwing herself upon her knees beside her child, she claspedhim convulsively in her arms and burst into a flood of weeping.
"Oh! my poor, innocent baby! to think that this curse must rest uponyou all your life--it breaks my heart!" she moaned, while shepassionately covered his head and face with kisses. "They tell methere is a God," she went on, hoarsely, as she again struggled to herfeet, "but I do not believe it--no God of love would ever createmonsters like Emil Correlli, and allow them to deceive and ruininnocent girls, blackening their pure souls and turning them to fiendsincarnate! Yes, I mean it," she panted, excitedly, as she caughtEdith's look of horror at her irreverent and reckless expressions.
"Listen!" she continued, eagerly. "Only three years ago I was a pureand happy girl, living with my parents in my native land--fair,beautiful, sunny Italy--"
"Italy?" breathlessly interposed Edith, as she suddenly rememberedthat she also had been born in that far Southern clime. Then she grewsuddenly pale as she caught the eyes of the little one gazingcuriously into her face, and also remembered that "the curse" whichhis mother had but a moment before so deplored, rested upon her aswell.
Involuntarily, she took his little hand, and lifting it to her lips,imprinted a soft caress upon it, at which the child smiled, showinghis pretty white teeth, and murmured some fond musical term inItalian.
"You are an angel not to hate us both," said his mother, a suddenwarmth in her tones, a gleam of gratitude in her dusky eyes. "But wereyou ever in Italy?" she added, curiously.
"Yes, when I was a little child; but I do not remember anything aboutit," said Edith, with a sigh. "Do not stand with the child in yourarms," she added, thoughtfully. "Come, sit here, and then you can goon with what you were going to tell me."
And, with a little sense of malicious triumph, Edith pulled forwardthe beautiful rocker of carved ivory, and saw the woman sink wearilyinto it with a feeling of keen satisfaction. It seemed to her like theirony of fate that it should be thus occupied for the first time.
She would have been only too glad to heap all the beautiful clothes,jewels, and laces upon the woman also, but she felt that they did notbelong to her, and she had no right to do so. Taking her little one onher knee, the young woman laid his head upon her breast, and swayinggently back and forth, began her story.
"My father was an olive grower, and owned a large vineyard besides, inthe suburbs of Rome. He was a man of ample means, and took no littlepride in the pretty home which he was enabled to provide for hisfamily. My mother was a beautiful woman, somewhat above him socially,although I never knew her to refer to the fact, and I was their onlychild.
"Like many other fond parents who have but one upon whom to expendtheir love and money, they thought I must be carefully reared andeducated--nothing was considered too good for me, and I had everyadvantage which they could bestow. I was happy--I led an ideal lifeuntil I was seventeen years of age. When carnival time came around,we all went in to Rome to join in the festivities, and there I met myfate, in the form of Emil Correlli."
"Ah! but I thought that he was a Frenchman!" interposed Edith, insurprise.
"His father was a Frenchman, but his mother was born and reared inItaly, where, in Rome, he studied under the great sculptor, Powers,"her guest explained. Then she resumed: "We met just as we were bothentering the church of St. Peter's. He accidently jostled me; then, ashe turned to apologize, our eyes met, and from that moment my fate wassealed. I cannot tell you all that followed, dear lady, it would taketoo long; but, during the next three months it seemed to me as if Iwere living in Paradise. Before half that time had passed, Emil hadconfessed his love for me, and made an excuse to see me almost everyday. But my parents did not approve; they objected to his attentions;his mother, they learned by some means, belonged to a noble family,and 'lords and counts should not mate with peasants,' they said."
"Then I made the fatal mistake of disobeying them and meeting my loverin secret. Ah, lady," she here interposed with a bitter sigh, "therest is but the old story of man's deception and a maiden's blindconfidence in him; and when, all too late, I discovered my error,there seemed but one thing for me to do, and that was to flee with himto America, whither he was coming to pursue his profession in a greatcity."
"And--did he not offer to--to marry you before you came?" queriedEdith, aghast.
"No; he pretended that he dared not--he was so well-known in Rome thatthe secret would be sure to be discovered, he said, and then my fatherwould separate us forever; but he promised that when we arrived in NewYork, he would make everything all right; therefore, I, still blindlytrusting him, let him lead
me whither he would.
"I was very ill during the passage, and for weeks following ourarrival, and so the time slipped rapidly by without the consummationof my hopes, and though he gave me a pleasant home and everythingthat I wished for in the house where we lived, even allowing it toappear that I was his wife, we had not been here long before I sawthat he was beginning to tire of me. I did everything I could to keephis love, I studied tirelessly to master the language of the country,and kept myself posted upon art and subjects which interested himmost, in order to make myself companionable to him. Time after time Ientreated him to fight the wrong he was doing me and another, whowould soon come either into the shelter of his fatherhood or toinherit the stigma of a dishonored mother; but he always had someexcuse with which to put me off. At last this little one came"--shesaid, folding the child more closely in her arms--"and I had somethingpure and sweet to love, even though I was heart-broken over knowingthat a blight must always rest upon his life, and something to occupythe weary hours which, at times, hung so heavily upon my hands. Afterthat Emil seemed to become more and more indifferent to me--therewould be weeks at a time that I would not see him at all; I usedsometimes to think that the boy was a reproach to him, and he couldnot bear the stings of his own conscience in his presence."
"Ah," interposed Edith, with a scornful curl of her red lips, "suchmen have no conscience; they live only to gratify their selfishimpulses."
"Perhaps; while those they wrong live on and on, with a never-dyingworm gnawing at their vitals," returned her companion, repressing asob.
"At last," she resumed, "I began to grow jealous of him, and to spyupon his movements. I discovered that he went a great deal to one ofthe up-town hotels, and I sometimes saw him go out with a handsomewoman, whom I afterward learned was his sister--the Mrs. Goddard, wholives here, and who visits New York several times every year. I didnot mind so much when I discovered the relationship between them,although I suffered many a bitter pang to see how fond they were ofeach other, while I was starving for some expression of his love.
"This went on for nearly two years; then about two months ago, Emildisappeared from New York, without saying anything to me of hisintentions, although he left plenty of money deposited to my account.He was always generous in that way, and insisted that Ino must haveeverything he wished or needed--I am sure he is fond of the child, inspite of everything. By perseverance and ceaseless inquiry, I finallylearned that he had come to Boston, and I immediately followed him. Iam suspicious and jealous by nature, like all my people, and that day,when I saw him walking with you, and looking at you just as he used tolook at me in those old delicious days in Italy, all the passion of mynature was aroused to arms. Braving everything, I rushed over to himand denounced him for his treachery to me, also accusing him of makinglove to you."
"And did it seem to you that I was receiving his attentions withpleasure?" questioned Edith, with a repugnant shrug of her shoulders."I assure you he had forced his company upon me, and I only endured itto save making a scene in the street."
"I did not stop to reason about your appearance," said the woman; "atleast not further than to realize that you were very lovely, and justthe style of beauty to attract Emil; but he swore to me that you wereonly the companion of his sister, and he had only met you on thestreet by accident--that you were nothing to him. He asked me to tellhim where he could find me, and promised that he would come to melater. He kept his word, and has visited me every few days ever since,treating me more kindly than for a long time, but insisting that Imust keep entirely out of the way of his sister. And so it came uponme like a deadly blow when I read that account of his marriage inyesterday's paper. I was wrought up to a perfect frenzy, especiallywhen I came to the statement that Monsieur and Madam Correlli wouldreturn immediately to Boston, but leave soon after for a trip Southand West, and ultimately sail for Europe. That was more than outragednature could bear, and I vowed that I would wreak a swift and surerevenge upon you both, and so, for two days, I have haunted thishouse, seeking for an opportunity to gain an entrance unobserved. Isaw you sitting at the window--I recognized you instantly. I believed,of course, that you were a willing bride, and imagined that if I couldget in I should find you both in this room. While I watched my chance,one of the servants came to the area door to let in the gas-man, andcarelessly left it ajar, while she went back with him into one of therooms. In a moment I was in the lower hall, looking for a backstairway; if any one had found me I was going to beg a drink of waterfor my child. There was a door there, but it was locked; butdesperation makes one keen, and I was not long in finding a keyhanging up on a nail beneath a window-sill. The next instant the doorwas unlocked, and I on my way upstairs--"
"And the key! oh! what did you do with the key?" breathlesslyinterposed Edith, grasping at this unexpected chance to escape.
"I have it here, lady," said her companion, as she produced it. "Ithought it might be convenient for me to go out the same way, so tookpossession of it."
"Ah, then the door to the back stairway is still unlocked?" breathedEdith, with trembling lips.
"Yes; I did not stop to lock it after me; I hurried straight up here,but--expecting to have a very different interview from what I havehad," responded the woman, with a heavy sigh. "Now, lady, you have mystory," she continued, after a moment of silence, "you can see that Ihave been deeply wronged, and though from a moral standpoint, I haveevery claim upon Emil Correlli, yet legally, I have none whatever;and, unless you can prove some flaw in that ceremony of night beforelast--prove that he fraudulently tricked you into a marriage with him,you are irrevocably bound to him."
Edith shivered with pain and abhorrence at these last words, but shedid not respond to them in any way.
"I came here with hatred in my heart toward you," the other went on,"but I shall go away blessing you for your kindness to me; for,instead of shrinking from me, as one defiled and too depraved to betolerated, you have held out the hand of sympathy to me and listenedpatiently and pityingly to the story of my wrongs."
As she concluded, she dropped her face upon the head of her child witha weary, disheartened air that touched Edith deeply.
"Will you tell me your name?" she questioned, gently, after a momentor two of silence. "Pardon me," she added, flushing, as her companionlooked up sharply, "I am not curious, but I do not know how to addressyou."
"Giulia Fiorini. Holy Mother forgive me the shame I have brought uponit!" she returned, with a sob. "I have called him"--laying hertrembling hand upon the soft, silky curls of her child--"Ino Emil."
"Thank you," said Edith, "and for your confidence in me as well. Youhave been greatly wronged; and if there is any justice or humanity inlaw, this tie, which so fetters me, shall be annulled; then,perchance, Monsieur Correlli may be persuaded to do what is righttoward you.
"No, lady, I have no hope of that," said Giulia, dejectedly, "for whena man begins to tire of the woman whom he has injured he also beginsto despise her, and to consider himself ill-used because she evendares to exist."
"Perhaps you would wish to repudiate him," suggested Edith, who feltthat such would be her attitude toward any man who had so wronged her.
"Oh, no; much as I have suffered, I still love Emil, and would gladlyserve him for the remainder of my life, if he would but honor me withhis name; but I know him too well ever to hope for that--I know thathe is utterly selfish and would mercilessly set his heel upon me if Ishould attempt to stand in the way of his purposes. There is nothingleft for me but to go back to my own country, confess my sin to myparents, and hide myself from the world until I die."
"Ah! but you forget that you have your child to rear and educate, hismind and life to mold, and--try to make him a better man than hisfather," said Edith, with a tender earnestness, which instantly meltedthe injured girl to tears.
"Oh, that you should have thought of that, when I, his mother, forgetmy duty to him, and think only of my own unhappiness!" sobbed theconscience-stricken girl, as she hugged the wonderin
g child closer toher breast. "Yesterday I told myself that I would send Ino to him, andthen end my misery forever."
"Don't!" exclaimed Edith, sharply, her face almost convulsed withpain. "Your life belongs to God, and--this baby. Live above yourtrouble, Giulia; never let your darling have the pain and shame oflearning that his mother was a suicide. If you have made one mistake,do not imagine that you can expiate it by committing another ahundred-fold worse. Ah! think what comfort there would be in rearingyour boy to a noble manhood, and then hear him say, 'What I am mymother has made me!'"
She had spoken earnestly, appealingly, and when she ceased, theunhappy woman seized her hand and covered it with kisses.
"Oh, you have saved me!" she sobbed; "you have poured oil into mywounds. I will do as you say--I will rise above my sin and shame; andif Ino lives to be an honor to himself and the world, I shall tell himof the angel who saved us both. I am very sorry for you," she added,looking, regretfully, up at Edith; "I could almost lay down my lifefor you now; but--Correlli is rich--very rich, and you may, perhaps,be able to get some comfort out of life by--"
Edith started to her feet, her face crimson.
"What?" she cried, scornfully, "do you suppose that I could ever takepleasure in spending even one dollar of his money? Look there!"pointing to the elegant apparel upon the bed. "I found all thoseawaiting me when I came here to-day. In the dressing-case yonder thereare laces, jewels, and fine raiment of every description, but I wouldgo in rags before I would make use of a single article. I loathe thesight of them," she added, shuddering. "I should feel degraded,indeed, could I experience one moment of pleasure arrayed in them."
Suddenly she started, and looked at her watch, a wild hope animatingher.
It was exactly quarter past two.
A train left for New York, via the Boston & Albany Railroad, at threeo'clock.
If she could reach the Columbus avenue station, which was less thanfifteen minutes' walk from Commonwealth avenue, without being missed,she would be in New York by nine o'clock, and safe, for a time atleast, from the man she both hated and feared.