+ ~ -
 
Please report pronunciation problems here. Select and sample other voices. Options Pause Play
 
Report an Error
Go!
 
Go!
 
TOC
 

frightened me to death. Then Mr. George
ran away with me to London; only he
went home at once, and made believe to
know nothing about it, and stayed there
nigh upon two months, till he got his
father's leave to travel for a year or two.
Then he came very early one morning,
and took me away to a church, where we
were married without any carriages, or
wedding clothes, or bridesmaids."

I laughed, for she spoke regretfully still,
though it was so long ago. All girls love
finery; if they are good for anything.

"Don't laugh, George," she sobbed; "if
I'd only had bridesmaids and carriages
you'd have been George Haddan, of Haddan
Lodge by this time. You see I never
knew where I was, it all being so quiet
and early in the morning, and we starting
off at once for Liverpool. Your father
asked for a certificate, and got it; but he
never showed it me, and I never thought
of asking him. We came here, dear, and
here we stopped."

She seemed reluctant to go on now she
had brought her history to New York, and
I had to coax her to continue it.

"Then don't interrupt me again, George,"
she said, almost peevishly. " I am going
to tell you straight on now, though it is
very disagreeable, and I never would if I
had not promised Fortune's father when
he said he'd leave us a legacy each. We
were very happy, young Mr. Haddan and
me, especially after you were born. He
never gave me a cross word, and I tried
my best to be a good wife to him. But he
kept hankering after his father and his
own place, and he'd have gone back, only
he did not dare to tell about me and you
children. Then there came news of his
brother, Mr. James, making a very good
match with an heiress; and old Mr. Haddan
wrote, threatening to cut off Mr. George if
he ever married an American woman, which
he swore very solemnly he never would do
in a letter to his father."

My mother came to a full stop here,
without any interruption from me, and her
low voice fell into a yet lower key when
she spoke again.

"He put off going home to see his father
till he could not go at all. I was no more than
twenty-three when he died, and more like
a baby myself than a mother of a boy like
you. I don't wonder he never consulted
me, but he never consulted anybody else.
He wrote to his father, telling him everything,
and putting his will and our marriage
certificate into his letter. He had six
thousand pounds of his own to leave, which
had been his mother's, and that he left to
me. He asked his father to forgive him,
and provide for you children, if he did not
make you his heir, for old Mr. Haddan
could leave his estates as he pleased. He
sent all these papers by the mail, just like
an ordinary letter, and they were lost."

"Lost!" I exclaimed.

"Lost!" she repeated, mournfully;
"every one of them lost; but your father
never knew it. He died quite at peace about
us; and the very next day the mail from
home came in, and brought the news that his
father was dead. The letters had crossed
on the sea, and neither of them knew that
the other was gone. I was very glad of
that, my boy."

She stopped to cry again for some
minutes, while I waited in impatience, but
I dared not hurry her. She was very
nervous, and the least symptom of annoyance
frightened her.

"The letter was from Mr. Newill, the
family lawyer, and he said all the landed
estates were left to Mr. George, and he
was to go home directly. I went directly to
Mr. Prescott, and he took the business off
my hands. He wrote immediately to
England, but of course we knew we should have
to wait a little for an answer. Then three
or four mails came in with nothing for us,
and he wrote again telling about your
father's long letter, and the will, and
certificate. There came after that a short
sharp note from Mr. Newill, denying that
George Haddan had ever been married,
and asking for proofs. I hadn't any proof
except my wedding ring, which has never
been off my finger; but Mr. Prescott said
that would go for nothing. Then I wrote
to Aunt Becket myself, and she answered,
saying shameful things, and bidding me
never show my face in England again.
Hush, George! Don't interrupt me. Mr.
Newill wrote again, saying Mr. James was
willing to settle a thousand pounds apiece
on us, considering that you were Mr.
George's children, on condition that we
never troubled him again."

"Did you agree to it?" I asked, eagerly.

"Mr. Prescott would not," she answered.
"Sometimes he talked of taking me over
to London to see if I could find the church
where we were married, but the time never
came. He made every inquiry about the
mail, and nothing had happened to it. The
letter ought to have reached Haddan
Lodge, as it was directed. I know it was
directed right, for I saw it lying on your