CHAPTER XXX.
"I HATE YOU WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF MY ITALIAN BLOOD."
Isabel Stewart felt that she could not bear the painful interview anylonger, and was about to touch the electric button to summon herservant to show her visitor out, when he stayed her with a gesture ofappeal.
"One moment more, Isabel, I implore," he exclaimed; "then I will go,never to trouble you again."
Her beautiful hand dropped by her side, and she turned again to himwith a patient, inquiring glance.
"You have spoken of our--child," the man went on, eagerly, though aflush of shame dyed his face as he gave utterance to the pronoundenoting mutual possession. "Do you intend to continue your search forher?"
"Certainly; that will now be the one aim of my life. I could nevertake another moment of comfort knowing that my old friend and my childwere destitute, as I have been led to believe they are."
"And if--you find her--shall--you tell her--your history?" falteredGerald Goddard, as he nervously moistened his dry lips.
His companion bent her head in thought for a moment. At length sheremarked:
"I shall, of course, be governed somewhat by circumstances in such amatter; if I find Edith still in ignorance of the fact that she is anadopted daughter, I think I shall never undeceive her, but strive to becontent with such love as she can give me, as her mother's friend. If,on the other hand, I find that she has learned the truth--especially ifshe should happen to be alone in the world--I shall take her into myarms and tell her the whole story of my life, beg her to share myfuture, and let me try to win as much as possible of her love."
"If you should find her, pray, pray do not teach her to regard me as amonster of all that is evil," pleaded her companion, in a tone ofagony that was pitiful. "Ah, Isabel, I believe I should have been abetter man if I could have had the love of little children thrownabout me as a safeguard."
Isabel Stewart's red lips curled with momentary scorn at this attemptto shift the responsibility of his wasted and misguided life upon anyone or anything rather than himself.
"What a pity, then, that you did not realize the fact before youdiscarded the unhappy young mother and her innocent babe, so manyyears ago," she remarked, in a tone that pierced his heart like aknife.
"I did go back to Rome for the child--I did try to find her after--Ihad heard that--that you were gone," he faltered. "I was told that theinfant had doubtless perished with you, though its body was neverfound; but I have mourned her--I have yearned for her all my life."
"And do you imagine, even if you should meet her some time in thefuture, that she would reciprocate this affection which, strangelyenough, you manifest at this late day?"
"Perhaps not, if you should meet her first and tell her your story,"the man returned, with a heavy sigh.
"Which I shall assuredly do," said Mrs. Stewart, resolutely; "that is,if, as I said before, I find her alone in the world; that muchjustification is my due--my child shall know the truth; then she shallbe allowed to act according to the dictates of her own heart andjudgment, regarding her future relationship toward both of us. I feelsure that she has been most carefully reared--that my old friend Edithwould instill only precepts of truth and purity in her mind, and myheart tells me that she would be likely to shrink from one who hadwronged her mother as you have wronged me."
"I see; you will keep her from me if you can," said Mr. Goddard, withintense bitterness.
"I am free to confess that I should prefer you never to meet," saidMrs. Stewart, a look of pain sweeping over her beautiful face; "butEdith is twenty years of age, if she is living; and if, after learningmy history, she desires to recognize the relationship between herselfand you, I can, of course, but submit to her wish."
"It is very evident to me that you will teach her to hate her father,"was the sullen retort.
"Her father?" the term was repeated with infinite scorn. "Pray in whatrespect have you shown yourself worthy to be so regarded?--you whoeven denied her legitimate birth, and turned your back upon her,totally indifferent to whether she starved or not."
"How hard you are upon me, Isabel!"
"I have told you only facts."
"I know--I know; but have some pity for me now, since, at last, I havecome to my senses; for in my heart I have an insatiable longing forthis daughter who, if she is living, must embody some of the virtuesof her mother, who--God help me!--is lost, lost to me forever!"
The man's voice died away in a hoarse whisper, while a heart-brokensob burst from his lips.
"Go, Gerald," said Mrs. Stewart, in a low, but not unkindly imperativetone; "it is better that this interview should terminate. The past ispast--nothing can change it; but the future will be what we make it.Go, and if I ever hear from you again, let me know that your presentcontrition has culminated in a better life."
She turned abruptly from him and disappeared within her chamber,quietly shutting the door after her, while Gerald Goddard arose to"go" as he had been bidden.
As, with tottering gait and a pale, despairing face, he crossed theroom and parted the draperies between the two pretty parlors, he foundhimself suddenly confronted by a woman so wan and haggard that, for aninstant, he failed to recognize her.
"Idiot!" hissed Anna Correlli, through her pallid, tightly-drawn lips;"traitor! coward! viper!"
She was forced to pause simply because she was exhausted from thevenom which she had expended in the utterance of those fourexpletives.
Then she sank, weak and faint, upon a chair, but with her eyesglittering like points of flame, fastened in a look of malignanthatred upon the astonished man.
"Anna! how came you here?--how long have you been here?" he finallyfound voice to say.
"Long enough to learn of the contemptible perfidy and meanness of theman whom, for twenty years, I have trusted," she panted, but the tonewas so hollow he never would have known who was speaking had he notseen her.
He opened his dry lips to make some reply; but no sound came fromthem.
He put out his hand to support himself by the back of her chair, forall his strength and sense seemed on the point of failing him; whilefor the moment he felt as if he could almost have been grateful to anyone who would slay him where he stood, and thus put him out of hismisery--benumb his sense of degradation and the remorse which heexperienced for his wasted life, and the wrongs of which he had beenguilty.
But, by a powerful effort, he soon mastered himself, for he wasanxious to escape from the house before the presence of his wifeshould be discovered.
"Come, Anna," he said; "let us go home, where we can talk over thismatter by ourselves, without the fear of being overheard."
He attempted to assist her to rise, but she shrank away from him witha gesture of aversion, at the same time flashing a look up at him thatalmost seemed to curdle his blood, and sent a shudder of dread overhim.
"Do not dare to touch me!" she cried, hoarsely. "Go--call a carriage;I am not able to walk. Go; I will follow you."
Without a word, he turned to obey her, and passed quickly out of thesuite without encountering any one, she following, but with a gait sounsteady that any one watching her would have been tempted to believeher under the influence of some intoxicant.
Mr. Goddard found a carriage standing near the entrance to the hotel,and they were soon on their way home.
Not a word was spoken by either during the ride, and it would havebeen impossible to have found two more utterly wretched people in allthat great city.
Upon entering their house, they found Emil Correlli in a statebordering on frenzy, occasioned by the escape of Edith, and thiscircumstance served for a few moments to distract their thoughts fromtheir own troubles.
Mr. Goddard was intensely relieved by the intelligence, and plainlybetrayed it in his manner.
When angrily called to account for it by his brother-in-law, he atonce replied, with an air of reckless defiance:
"Yes, I am glad of it--I would even have helped the girl to get away;indeed, I was plann
ing to do so, for such a dastardly fraud as youperpetrated upon her should never be allowed to prosper."
He was rewarded for this speech, so loyal to Edith, only by an angryoath, to which, however, he paid no attention.
Strangely enough, Anna Correlli, after the first emotion of surpriseand dismay had passed, paid no heed to the exciting conversation; shehad sunk into a chair by the window, where she sat pale and silent,and absolutely motionless, save for the wild restlessness of her fieryblack eyes.
Mr. Goddard, finding the atmosphere so disagreeable, finally left theroom, and, mounting the stairs, shut himself in his own chamber, whilethe enraged lover dashed out of the house to the nearest telegraphoffice to send the message that caused the policeman to interceptEdith upon her arrival in New York.
A few moments later, Mrs. Goddard--as we will, from courtesy, stillcall her--crept wearily up to her room, where, tottering to a couch,she threw herself prone upon her face, moaning and shivering with theagony she could no longer control.
The blow, which for twenty years she had been dreading, had fallen atlast; but it was far more crushing and bitter than she had everdreamed it could be.
She had come at last to the dregs of the cup which once had seemed sosweet and alluring to her senses, and they had poisoned her soul untodeath.
She knew that never again while she lived would she be able to facethe world and hide her misery beneath a mask of smiles; and thebitterest drop of all, the sharpest thorn in her lacerated heart, wasthe fact that the little insignificant girl who had once been herhated rival in Rome, should have developed into the peerlesslybeautiful woman, whom all men admired and reverenced, and whom GeraldGoddard now idolized.
An hour passed, during which she lay where she had fallen and almostbenumbed by her misery.
Then there came a knock upon her door, which was immediately opened,and Mr. Goddard entered the room.
He was still very pale, but grave and self-contained.
The woman started to a sitting posture, exclaiming, in an unnaturalvoice:
"What do you want here?"
"I have come, Anna, to talk over with you the events of themorning--to ask you to try to control yourself, and look at ourpeculiar situation with calmness and practical common sense," hecalmly replied.
"Well?" was all the response vouchsafed, as he paused an instant.
"I have not come to offer any excuses for myself, or for what youoverheard this morning," he thoughtfully resumed; "indeed, I have noneto offer--my whole life, I own, has, as Isabel rightly said, been afailure thus far, and no one save myself is to blame for the fact. Donot sneer, Anna," he interposed, as her lips curled back from herdazzling teeth, which he saw were tightly locked with the effort shewas making at self-control. "I have been thoroughly humiliated forthe first time in my life--I have been made to see myself as I am, andI have reached a point where I am willing to make an effort to atone,as far as may be, for some of the wrongs of which I have been guilty.Will you help me, Anna?"
Again he paused, but this time his companion did not deign to availherself of the opportunity to reply, if, indeed, she was able to doso.
She had not once removed her glittering eyes from his face, and hersteady, inscrutable look gave him an uncanny sensation that wasanything but agreeable.
"I have come to propose that we avail ourselves of the only remedythat seems practicable to relieve our peculiar situation," hecontinued, seeing she was waiting for him to go on. "I will apply tohave the tie which binds me to Isabel annulled, with all possiblesecrecy--it can be done in the West without any notoriety; then I willmake you my legal wife, as you have so often asked me to do, and wewill go abroad again, where we will try to live out the remainder ofour lives to some better purpose than we have done heretofore. I askyou again, will you try to help me? It is not going to be an easything at first; but if each will try, for the sake of the other, Ibelieve we can yet attain comparative content, if not positivehappiness."
"Content! happiness!"
The words were hissed out with a fierceness of passion that startledhim, and caused him to regard her anxiously.
"Happiness!" she repeated. "Ha! ha! What mockery in the sound of thatword from your lips, after what has occurred to-day!"
"I know that you have cause to be both grieved and angry, Anna," saidGerald Goddard, humbly; "but let us both put the past behind us--letus wipe out all old scores, and from this day begin a new life."
"'Begin a new life' upon a heap of ashes, without one spark among themto ignite the smallest flame!" was the mocking rejoinder. Then, with aburst of agony, she continued: "Oh, God! if you had taken a daggerand stabbed me to death in that room to-day, you could not have slainme more effectually than by the words you have uttered. Begin a newlife with you, after your confessions, your pleadings andprotestations to Isabel Stewart? Heaven! Never! I hate you! hate you;hate you! with all the strength of my Italian blood, and warnyou--beware! And now, begone!"
The woman looked like a maniac as she poured this wild torrent uponhim, and the man saw that she was in no mood to be reasoned with or toconsider any subject; that it would be wiser to wait until thefierceness of her anger had spent itself.
He had broached the matter of their future relations, thus giving hersomething to think of, and now he would leave her to meditate upon itby herself; perhaps, in a few days, she would be in a more reasonableframe of mind, and look at the subject from a different point of view.
"Very well, Anna," he said, as he arose, "I will obey you. I do notpretend to claim that I have not given you cause to feel aggrieved inmany respects; but, as I have already said, that is past. I simply askyou to do what I also will do--put all the old life behind us, andbegin over again. I realize that we cannot discuss the question to anypurpose now--we are both too wrought up to think or talk calmly, so Iwill leave you to rest, and we will speak of this at another time. CanI do anything for you before I go?--or perhaps you would like yourmaid sent to you?"
"No," she said, briefly, and not once having removed her wild eyesfrom his face while he was speaking.
He bowed, and passed out of the room, softly shutting the door afterhim, then walked slowly down the hall to his own apartment.
The moment he was gone Anna Goddard sprang like a cat to her feet.
Going to her writing-desk, she dashed off a few lines, which shehastily folded and slipped into an envelope, which she sealed andaddressed.
She then touched the electric button above her desk to summon hermaid, after which she sat motionless with the missive clasped in herhands until the girl appeared.
"Dress yourself for the street, Mary, and take this note to Mr.Clayton's office. Be quick about it, for it is a matter ofimportance," she commanded, while she forced herself to speak withoutward calmness.
But Mary regarded her mistress with wonder, for, in all her"tantrums," as she termed them, she had never seen the awful look uponher face which was stamped upon it at that moment.
But she took the note without comment, and hastened away upon hererrand, while Mrs. Goddard, throwing herself back in her chair, satthere waiting with an air of expectation that betrayed she was lookingfor the appearance of some one.
Half an hour later a gentleman was admitted to the house, and wasshown directly up to my lady's boudoir.