Mildred at Roselands

by Martha Finley

  Chapter Seventeenth.

  "Do not insult calamity: It is a barbarous grossness to lay on The weight of scorn, when heavy misery Too much already weighs men's fortunes down." --Daniel.

  Returning to her room to don her riding habit, directly afterbreakfast, Mildred met Miss Worth on her way to the library to keep herappointment with Mr. Dinsmore.

  "How pale and ill you look!" exclaimed Mildred.

  "Ah, you would not wonder if you knew how I shrink from thisinterview," sighed the governess.

  "I think you need not," Mildred answered kindly; then gave her thesubstance of the conversation at the table, in regard to the pastnight's occurrences, adding that her uncle's explanation of herprobable motives had entirely appeased Mrs. Dinsmore's anger, andpresumably he did not himself hold her in great disfavor.

  "How very good in you to tell me, Miss Keith," the governess said,grateful tears springing to her eyes. "But I must not delay anothermoment, lest I keep him waiting."

  She hastened on into the library, and was relieved to find ittenantless. Unpunctuality would not have helped her cause, and thoughthe moments of waiting tried her already over-strained nerves, she wasthankful that they had fallen to her lot rather than to his.

  She had slept little, waking early, not greatly refreshed, andtormented with anxiety in regard to her brother's whereabouts,likelihood to renew his attempt to carry off Juliet, and danger ofarrest on the old charges. This in addition to the care that cameupon her every day:--the ever recurring question how she was to meetnecessary expenses for herself and those dependent upon her.

  Almost too weary to stand, yet too restless to remain quiet, shedropped into a chair for a moment, then rose and paced the floor, atlast pausing beside the fire, and standing there with her right elbowon the mantel, her forehead in the open palm of her hand, her eyes castdown, while painful thought surged through her brain.

  Thus Mr. Dinsmore found her, so absorbed in her meditations that shewas not aware of his entrance until he coughed slightly to attract herattention. Then she came out of her reverie with a start.

  "Excuse me, sir, but I was not aware that I was no longer alone."

  "Time enough," he said; "and let me compliment you on being morepunctual than myself. But you are not looking well or happy."

  "No, sir; and I think you will hardly wonder that I do not, when youhave heard what I am here to tell."

  "Be seated," he said, waving his hand toward an easy chair, whiletaking possession of its fellow, "and let me hear what it is."

  She seemed at a loss where to begin her story, and to help herhe remarked interrogatively, "I presume you have no objection toexplaining the cause of your mysterious nocturnal ramble?"

  "No," she said, "I went to warn that man away from the house."

  "Ah! yes, that may have been the better plan, as I was absent fromhome; but what puzzles me is to understand how you knew of his coming."

  "I had picked this up in the hall," she said, handing him the littlenote.

  "But how could it tell you so much, since it gives neither the name ofthe writer nor that of the person addressed?"

  "The man's writing is perfectly familiar to me," she explained, growinga shade paler as she spoke; "I have known him intimately for years, andhad learned from him his designs upon Miss Marsden."

  "An intimate acquaintance of yours!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "Notone to be proud of, certainly. May I ask a further explanation? It isa matter of some consequence to know with what style of persons theinstructress of my children associates."

  "I know it; you have a perfect right to ask," she stammered, a crimsonblush suffusing her cheek, hot tears rushing into the downcast eyes."Oh, may you never know, Mr. Dinsmore, what it is to have those nearestand dearest bring shame and disgrace upon you!"

  "A relative?" he asked. "Is he not a foreigner?"

  She shook her head sorrowfully, and after a moment's struggle forcomposure, told him what the man was to her, how he had been led astrayby love for the wine-cup, and the evil influence of an older villain;that he had left his country years ago, traveling his family knew notwhither, and how unexpectedly she had recognized him in the pseudoCount of whom Juliet had become enamored; how she had entreated him togo away, and failing to persuade him, had made a fruitless appeal toJuliet, disclosing his real character and aims; but only to be scoutedat and contemned as an envious rival; then had sought for him withthe purpose of calling in his aid to save the wilful girl from thedestruction she courted, and failing to find him had enlisted Mildredin the cause.

  "Miss Marsden is a born simpleton!" he commented impatiently. "Well,Miss Worth, she owes a great deal to your good sense and right feeling.I, too, am obliged to you. I sympathize with you in the trial of havingsuch a brother, and do not see that you have been at all to blame inthis unfortunate matter; but rather the contrary.

  "However, Mrs. Dinsmore is not always entirely reasonable in her viewsand requirements, and it is altogether likely would object longerreceiving your services as governess to her children, if she knew ofyour relationship to this man. We will, therefore, keep that matter toourselves."

  So saying, he dismissed her and the subject together, with a wave ofhis hand; and she withdrew with one burden somewhat lightened.

  For some days nothing special occurred at Roselands; Juliet kept to herown apartments; for the most part alone, or with no companionship butthat of her maid; for Reba's strongly expressed disgust and indignationat her folly had sent her into a fit of the pouts, so that they hadsmall relish for each other's society; and Mrs. Dinsmore, angry withher for the disgrace she had so nearly brought upon the family, wouldnot go near her, nor allow any of the children to do so.

  Mildred, too, stayed away, partly in obedience to a hint from her aunt,and partly because she did not suppose her company would be acceptable;she and Juliet having never been kindred spirits.

  Meanwhile, Miss Worth still took her meals in the nursery with theyounger children, doing so of choice, attended faithfully to her dutiesin the schoolroom, but was seldom seen at other times. Her light oftenburned far into the night, and day by day she grew thinner and palerher cheeks more sunken, her eyes more hollow, her step slower and morelanguid.

  Mildred alone seemed to note the change, but to her kind inquiries thegoverness always answered that she was well, and that in a tone thatdid not encourage further inquiry or remark.

  Mr. Marsden was slow in responding to Mr. Dinsmore's summons, but atlength a letter was received, announcing his intention of starting onhis journey two days after date, and requesting Mr. Dinsmore to keep avigilant watch over Juliet until his arrival.

  It had come by the mail, which, arriving in the city the previousnight, was brought to Roselands by Pomp, in the morning.

  Mr. Dinsmore opened it at the breakfast table, read it to himself, andwith a satisfied smile, passed it on to his wife for her perusal, whilehe opened the newspaper, and leisurely glanced over its contents.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed presently, with some excitement, "here is a bit ofnews. Listen!"

  He read it aloud.

  "Yesterday, a gentleman from Philadelphia, visiting in our city, metin the street, and recognized an old acquaintance, one Henry Worth,formerly of Philadelphia, who, some five years ago, fled thence toescape trial on a charge of forgery. Worth was of respectable family;his father had been a man of very considerable wealth, but had failedshortly before the commission of the crime; brought to ruin, it issaid, by the excesses of this son.

  "The young man has been leading a gay life of late, in the assumedcharacter of a French nobleman--calling himself the Count De Lisle. Thegentleman above referred to promptly reported his case to the police;he was arrested and is now safely lodged in prison; whence he will besent north in a few days for trial."

  "So it's all true--that he was a scoundrel!" cried Mrs. Dinsmore, "andhis name's Worth! He's Miss Worth's brother! I know it! I'm sure of it!and tha
t accounts for her knowing all about him. The wicked, deceitfulthing to hide it as she has done, and impose herself--the sister of aconvict--on me as governess to my children! I never heard of anythingso shameful! I'll give her notice at once, and--"

  "Why, my dear, what absurd folly!" exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore impatiently,angry with her for her unreasonable displeasure, and with himself forhaving inadvertently read out the name; "what difference does it make?"

  "What difference, Mr. Dinsmore! are you crazy? You may consider paupersand convicts proper associates for your children, but they are not formine, and that woman shall go."

  "She is neither a pauper nor a convict," he said, "nor in the leastresponsible, so far as I have been able to learn, for the wrong doingof this man, whom, by the way, you do not know to be her brother; andif he is, I should think a woman's heart would feel for her in theterrible sorrow and disgrace of having such a relative."

  "Papa, what is a convict?" asked Lora.

  "One legally proved guilty of a crime," he said; "and, my dear,the term does not yet apply to the man himself, (much less to yourgoverness) as he has not yet been brought to trial."

  "It's all the same," she sneered, "for I haven't a doubt of his guilt.There, you needn't smile, as if I had said a foolish thing!"

  "I wish you would not _do_ a foolish thing in sending away one sowell qualified for her duties, and faithful in their performance, asMiss Worth, merely because she is so unfortunate as to bear the samename--possibly be nearly related to--a scamp."

  "Dear me, papa, I think mamma is quite right," remarked Louise, with atoss of her head. "I'm sure I don't wish to be taught by such a person."

  "When your opinion is desired, Louise, it will be called for," said herfather severely. "In the meantime you may reserve it."

  "Well, I mean to ask Miss Worth if that man is her brother?" mutteredthe child sullenly.

  "You will do no such thing!" returned her father. "I will not have aword said to her about it."

  At that his wife smiled significantly.

  "It might be as well to show that paragraph to Juliet," she said,rising from the table. "Suppose you give me the paper."

  "Do so, by all means," he replied, handing it to her.

  "Mildred, here is something for Miss Worth. Will you see that she getsit?"

  It, too, was a newspaper, and Mildred hoped compassionately, as shecarried it up stairs, that it did not contain the item of distressingnews for Miss Worth that her uncle had read from the other.

  Mrs. Dinsmore had preceded her by several minutes, and her voicespeaking in cold, cutting tones, came to the girl's ear, from the upperhall, as she set her foot upon the first stair.

  "You must be aware that your services are no longer acceptable here,"she was saying. "In fact you would never have been given the situationhad I known of this disgraceful connection; and I must say I am justlyindignant at the gross deception that has been practiced upon me."

  "She must be speaking to Miss Worth; oh, what cruel words!" thoughtMildred.

  She had reached the landing, and turning to ascend the short flightabove, caught sight of the speaker and the person addressed.

  Miss Worth stood leaning against the wall, one hand clutching at thebalustrade for support, her face deathly pale, and her lips trembling;Mrs. Dinsmore standing a few feet from her, gathering her dainty skirtsclose to her person as if fearful of contamination, her aristocraticnose high in the air, her countenance expressing scorn, contempt, andrighteous indignation.

  "What have you to say for yourself?" she demanded.

  "Nothing, but that I am guiltless of any intentional wrong," thegoverness replied, lifting her head, and speaking in a tone of quietdespair, "and that I have faithfully performed my duties to the best ofmy ability."

  "You don't deny, then, that this scoundrel, this felon--"

  "Madame," interrupted the governess, her eyes flashing, while a brightred spot burned on each cheek, "he is not that, for he has never beenconvicted of, nor so much as brought to trial for any crime."

  "Insolence!" exclaimed Mrs. Dinsmore. "Well, if he hasn't been yet, hesoon will be, and get his deserts, I sincerely hope."

  And picking up the newspaper, which seemed to have dropped from MissWorth's nerveless hand, she swept on toward Juliet's apartments; inanother moment had disappeared within them, shutting the door after her.

  The fire had died out of Miss Worth's eye, the red had left her cheek,and she was swaying from side to side; only her hold on the balustradekeeping her from falling.

  Mildred sprang toward her. "Lean on me," she said. "Let me help you toyour room. Don't be so troubled; the Lord will take care of you andyours, if you put your trust in Him."

  She did not know whether or not her words were heard and understood.The poor woman answered only with a heavy sigh and whispered, "Thankyou. I shall be better soon. But oh, what will become of them all! mymother, my poor mother! He was her pride, her idol!"

  Sympathetic tears streamed over Mildred's cheeks as she assisted her toher room.

  "I'm to go away, Miss Mildred," she said, "turned off in disgrace forwhat is no fault of mine: no fault but my bitter, bitter sorrow! Godhelp me and those dependent on me!"

  "He will," Mildred answered chokingly; "He is so kind, so full ofcompassion; His tender mercies are over all his works!"

  She stayed a little while trying to administer consolation, thenputting the paper into Miss Worth's hands, merely saying that it hadcome by that morning's mail, she went away.

  Finding Rachel busy in her room, she stepped back into the hall andstood for a few moments at the window there, looking out into theavenue below where Mr. Dinsmore was mounting his horse to make hisdaily morning round of the plantation.

  Suddenly there was a sound in Miss Worth's room as of a heavy bodyfalling to the floor.

  Mildred ran to her door, and rushing in without the ceremony ofknocking, found the poor governess stretched, apparently lifeless, uponthe floor, the newspaper lying by her side.

  Mildred's eye, as she stooped over the prostrate form, was caught by aparagraph that was heavily marked.

  But the present was no time to examine it, and pushing the paperaside, she hastened to loosen the clothing of the fainting woman, atthe same time giving directions to the two or three servants who hadbeen attracted by the noise of the fall, and followed her into the room.

  "Throw up that window, Minerva! Some cold water, Fanny, quick, quick!And you, Rachel, run to my room for my smelling salts."

  "O, Miss Milly, is she done gone dead?" asked Fanny fearfully, as shesprinkled the water upon the still, white face.

  "No, no; it's only a bad faint," Mildred answered, but her own heartquaked with fear as she spoke; the pinched features were so deathlikein their fixedness and pallor.

  And spite of every effort they remained so till, nearly wild withterror, Mildred bade the servants summon other assistance.

  "Call Mrs. Brown," she said. "Ask aunt if we shall not send for thedoctor."

  They hurried away to do her bidding, while she renewed her exertions,sending up silent, importunate petitions the while to her heavenlyFriend.

  They were answered; Miss Worth sighed deeply, opened her eyes andlifted them to the young face bent over her, with a look of suchhopeless, heart-breaking anguish, that the girl burst into sobs andtears.

  "Oh, what is it? what is it?" she said.

  "He--he was my husband--and--and I _loved him_," came in a hoarsewhisper from the colorless lips, and with the last word she swoonedagain.

  "She has lost her reason," thought Mildred. "Poor, poor thing! oh,perhaps it may be better for her if she never comes to herself again."