Wife in Name Only Part 50

"Will you leave us alone?" he requested, but Lady Arleigh stretched out her hand.

"That is my mother," she said--"she must not be sent away from me."

"I will not be long away, Madaline. You must listen to what this gentleman says--and, my dear, do not let it upset you."

Mrs. Dornham retired, closing the door carefully behind her, and Lady Arleigh and the earl stood looking at each Other.

"You call we Madaline," she said, "and you send my mother from me. What can you have to say?" A sudden thought occurred to her. "Has Lord Arleigh sent you to me?" she asked.

"Lord Arleigh!" he repeated, in wonder. "No, he has nothing to do with what I have to say. Sit down--you do not look strong--and I will tell you why I am here."

It never occurred to him to ask why she had named Lord Arleigh. He saw her sink, half exhausted, half frightened, upon the couch, and he sat down by her side.

"Madaline," he began, "will you look at me, and see if my face brings back no dream, no memory to you? Yet how foolish I am to think of such a thing! How can you remember me when your baby-eyes rested on me for only a few minutes?"

"I do not remember you," she said, gently--"I have never seen you before."

"My poor child," he returned, in a tone so full of tenderness and pain that she was startled by it, "this is hard!"

"You cannot be the gentleman I used to see sometimes in the early home that I only just remember, who used to amuse me by showing me his watch and take me out for drives?"

"No. I never saw you. Madeline as a child--I left you when you were three or four days old. I have never seen you since, although I have spent a fortune almost in searching for you."

"You have?" she said, wonderingly. "Who then are yon?"

"That is what I want to tell you without startling you, Madaline--dear Heaven, how strange it seems to utter that name again! You have always believed that good woman who has just quitted the room to be your mother?"

"Yes, always," she repeated, wonderingly.

"And that wretched man, the convict, you have always believed to be your father?"

"Always," she repeated.

"Will it pain or startle you very much to hear that they are not even distantly related to you--that the woman was simply chosen as your foster mother because she had just lost her own child?"

"I cannot believe it," she cried, trembling violently. "Who are you who tells me this?"

"I am Hubert, Earl of Mountdean," he replied, "and, if you will allow me, I will tell you what else I am."

"Tell me," she said, gently.

"I am your father, Madaline--and the best part of my life has been spent in looking for you."

"My father," she said, faintly. "Then I am not the daughter of a convict--my father is an earl?"

"I am your father," he repeated, "and you, child, have you, child, have your mother's face."

"And she--who has just left us--is nothing to me?"

"Nothing. Do not tremble, my dear child. Listen--try to be brave. Let me hold your hands in mine while I tell you a true story."

He held her trembling hands while he told her the story of his life, of his marriage, of the sudden and fatal journey, and her mother's death--told it in brief, clear words that left no shadow of doubt on her mind as to its perfect truth.

"Of your nurse's conduct," he said, "I forbear to speak--it was cruel, wicked; but, as love for you dictated it, I will say no more. My dear child, you must try to forget this unhappy past, and let me atone to you for it. I cannot endure to think that my daughter and heiress, Lady Madaline Charlewood, should have spent her youth under so terrible a cloud."

There came no answer, and, looking at her, he saw that the color had left her face, that the white eyelids had fallen over the blue eyes, that the white lips were parted and cold--she had fainted, fallen into a dead swoon.

He knelt by her side and called to her with pa.s.sionate cries, he kissed the white face and tried to 'recall the wandering senses, and then he rang the bell with a heavy peal. Mrs. Dornham came hurrying in.

"Look!" said Lord Mountdean. "I have been as careful as I could, but that is your work."

Margaret Dornham knelt by the side of the senseless girl.

"I would give my life to undo my past folly," she said. "Oh, my lord, can you ever forgive me?"

He saw the pa.s.sionate love that she had for her foster-child; he saw that it was a mother's love, tender, true, devoted and self-sacrificing, though mistaken. He could not be angry, for he saw that her sorrow even exceeded his own.

To his infinite joy, Madaline presently opened her dark eyes and looked up at him. She stretched out her hands to him.

"My father," she said--"you are really my father?"

He kissed her face.

"Madaline," he replied, "my heart is too full for words. I have spent seventeen years in looking for you, and have found you at last. My dear child, we have seventeen years of love and happiness to make up."

"It seems like an exquisite dream," she said. "Can it be true?"

He saw her lovely face grow crimson, and bending her fair, shapely head, she whispered:

"Papa, does Lord Arleigh know?"

"Lord Arleigh!" he repeated. "My dear child, this is the second time you have mentioned him. What has he to do with you?"

She looked up at him in wonder.

"Do you not know?" she asked. "Have they not told you I am Lord Arleigh's wife?"

Lord Arleigh felt very disconsolate that June morning. The world was so beautiful, so bright, so fair, it seemed hard that he should have no pleasure in it. If fate had but been kinder to him! To increase his dullness, Lord Mountdean, who had been staying with him some days, had suddenly disappeared. He had gone out early in the morning, saying that he would have a long ramble in the woods, and would probably not return until noon for luncheon. Noon had come and pa.s.sed, luncheon was served, yet there was no sign of the earl, Lord Arleigh was not uneasy, but he longed for his friend's society.

At last he decided upon going in search of him. He had perhaps lost his way in the woods, or he had mistaken some road. It was high time that they looked after him--he had been so many hours absent without apparent cause. Lord Arleigh whistled for his two favorite dogs, Nero and Venus, and started out in search of his friend.

He went through the woods and down the high-road, but there was no sign of the earl. "He must have walked home by another route," thought Lord Arleigh; and he went back to Beechgrove. He did not find the earl there, but the groom, who had evidently been riding fast, was waiting for him in the hall.

"My lord," he said, "I was directed to give you this at once, and beg of you not to lose a moment's time."

Wondering what had happened, Lord Arleigh opened the note and read: