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THE 
 
 SECOND MARRIA&E; 
 
 OB, 
 
 A DAUGHTER'S TRIALS. 
 
 |i gcmestit S^ale of gark. 
 
 BT 
 
 CHARLES BURDETT, 
 
 ACTHOB OP " THE CONVICT'S CHILD," " THE GAMBLER," " LILLA HAST," 
 " THE ELLIOTT FAMILY," " NEVER TOO LATE," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 CHARLES SCRTBNER, 3Y7 & 379 BROADWAY, 
 
 JIDOCOLA"-!. 
 
 ! 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, bv 
 CHARI. ES SCRIBNER, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of N'ew York. 
 
 INSON, STEKKOTVPHR. GKO. RUSSELL ii CO., FJUNfEliS. 
 
THE HON. JACOB A. WESTERVELT, 
 
 LATE MAYOR OF THE CITY OP NEW YORK, 
 
 AS A FEEBLE TESTIMONIAL OP THE HIGH ESTEEM AND PROFOUND REGARD 
 
 OF HIS GRATEFUL AND ATTACHED FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PEEF ACE. 
 
 The Publisher has encouraged me to beheve, that although 
 six years have elapsed since I appeared before the pubhc as 
 a candidate for its favor, I have not been forgotten, and 
 hoping that his judgment may prove correct, I venture to 
 send this volume forth, trusting it may be received with the 
 kindness which was accorded to my previous efforts. 
 
 The story here presented, was narrated to me many years 
 ago by a physician well known in this city, and if I were at 
 liberty to mention his name, no doubts would be entertained 
 as to its entire truthfulness. 
 
 I " tell the tale as 'twas told to me," and if it shall serve 
 to amuse or interest, the object for which it was written will 
 have been attained. 
 
 I have used the " first person " throughout, as most 
 appropriate to the narrative, and as best enabling me to 
 preserve the unity and correctness of a tale, relating, as 
 it professes, occurences which transpired in this city, and 
 which will be recognised as strictly true by many, who were 
 at the time familiar with them. 
 
 Charles Burdett. 
 
OOIS^TENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAQK 
 
 I. The Orphan 9 
 
 II. The Omnibus 17 
 
 III. A New Friend 28 
 
 IV. The Second Wife 35 
 
 T. The Step Mother's Story 47 
 
 VI. Father and Daughter 59 
 
 vn. The Daughter's Story .73 
 
 viii. The Daughter's Story Continued 92 
 
 IX. The Orphan's Adventure 100 
 
 X. A Gentleman's Revenge 112 
 
 XI. Husband and Wife 119 
 
 XII. A Discovery 134 
 
 xiir. Mr. Barton's Adventure 143 
 
 XIV. Plot and Counterplot 152 
 
 XV. Another Discovery 162 
 
 XVI. Father and Daughter 174 
 
 XVII. Home Again 183 
 
 XVIII. Brother and Sister 192 
 
 XIX. More Good Luck 201 
 
 XX. Home Again 216 
 
 XXI. Drawing to a Close 280 
 
 Conclusion 287 
 
THE 
 
 SECOND MARRIAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ORPHAN. 
 
 In a neatly but poorly furnished room, on the 
 second floor of a two-story house, in the upper part 
 of Forsyth street, a woman was lying in the last 
 stages of consumption. Her features had wasted 
 away until there was scarce a semblance of human- 
 ity left upon them. Her glassy eyes were deep-set 
 in their honj sockets, but they gleamed occasionally 
 with a fitful fire, partly caused by pain, the attend- 
 ant of approaching dissolution, partly by some high 
 excitement over which she has been unable to main- 
 tain entire control. 
 
 Kneeling by her bedside, her face buried in the 
 clothes which were moist with her tears, her fair 
 
10 The Second Marriage. 
 
 hair hanging in dishevelled masses about her neck 
 and shoulders, her hands tightly clasped, and sob- 
 bing as if her heart would burst with the deep grief 
 which must find some vent, was JuUa Seaton, her 
 only daughter, soon to become an oq3han. 
 
 She was a poor girl, the only daughter of a poor 
 mother — the cherished child of a Christian parent, 
 who had never in a hfe of eighteen years caused 
 that parent a moment of pain, or an instant of un- 
 happiness. 
 
 " Juha, dear," said the mother, in broken accents, 
 for her strength was rapidly passing away, and lier 
 breath was failing, ''Julia, dear, trust in God, and 
 be virtuous. Kemember what your mother has striven 
 to instill into your young heart— you will soon have 
 no protector or friend but Him ; trust in Him, and 
 lead a virtuous life ; your reward will be certain." 
 
 "God bless you, my daughter," she continued, 
 slowly and with difficulty, each word costing, evidently, 
 a terrible effort from the dying woman, and laying 
 her thin attenuated hand upon the fair head of the 
 weeping sorrowing girl. 
 
 They were her last words, and with this prayer 
 upon her lips, the mother's spirit took its flight from 
 earth for ever, and Juha Seaton was an orphan. 
 
 Mrs. Seaton was the widow of a ship carpenter. 
 
The Orphan. 
 
 11 
 
 who after a life of toil and struggles in the vain en- 
 cleavor to place his family above want, had met with 
 a sudden and accidental death, leaving them entirely 
 unprovided for. He had managed to keep them to- 
 gether in tolerable comfort during his life-time, and 
 had educated his children, George and Julia, with a 
 view to their future usefulness to themselves and 
 others so far as his means would allow. 
 
 George had early imbibed a passion for the sea, 
 which his father thought it best to indulge, and he 
 was accordingly apprenticed to a well known and 
 estimable captain sailing out of New-York, who 
 promised the father that if there was any thing in the 
 boy, he would bring it out and make a man of him. 
 
 At the time of his father's death, George was 
 nearly twenty years of age, a ruddy, hearty young 
 giant, who had made three voyages around " the 
 Horn," and whose passion for the sea was in no wise 
 abated by the hard rubs and harder fare he had en- 
 dured during his brief experience as a foremast-hand. 
 
 A few weeks after that sad event, he sailed on his 
 fourth voyage as second mate, and was absent at the 
 time his remaining parent died, so that Julia was, in 
 the most terrible meaning of the word, alone. She 
 had no friends — the poor have few — and her pros- 
 pects were dismal mdeed. 
 
12 The Second Marriage. 
 But let me not anticipate. 
 
 After Mr. Seaton's death, the mother and daughter 
 had managed to eke out a subsistence by their needles 
 until Mrs. Seaton fell sick, and then the burthen fell 
 upon the devoted and self-sacrificing daughter, who 
 toiled wearily but cheerfully, until the lamp of that 
 life which was dearer than her own, went out and left 
 her in a dreary, cheerless, hopeless darkness. Then 
 her spirits sank within her, and despair took the 
 place of hope. 
 
 The last words Mrs. Seaton uttered showed that 
 she had been a Christian woman, and must pre-sup- 
 pose that her daughter Julia was , brought up as a 
 Christian mother would wish to bring up a child. 
 
 She had be^n not a canting, but a trusting Chris- 
 tian — not a loud-mouthed professor, but a firm believer 
 in those truths which have moved the world for near- 
 ly two thousand years ; and she felt, that without 
 belonging to any sect or acknowledging any creed, 
 she had placed her trust on a sure foundation. 
 
 But Julia Seaton was now an orphan. 
 
 She could scarcely — she would not bring herself 
 to realize that the hps which had never been opened 
 to her save to utter words of love and kindness, were 
 closed for ever. She would not beheve that the 
 eyes which had only beamed upon her in love, were 
 
The Orphan. 
 
 13 
 
 sealed in death — that the hand which had so often 
 been laid upon her head, invoking the blessings and 
 protection of Heaven, would never again be raised 
 in life. 
 
 But the reality came to her with all its terrible 
 truth. 
 
 " Come, Miss Julia, there's no use in grieving. 
 You know we've all got to die once, and your mother 
 was fitter to die than any of us — so don't take on so 
 any more" — and the speaker essayed with gentle 
 violence to raise Juha from the bed where she had 
 thrown herself beside the lifeless form of her mo- 
 ther. 
 
 There was, indeed, no use in grieving ; but the 
 overcharged heart of the bereaved girl refused to 
 acknowledge it. 
 
 " Come, Julia — come into our room, and we'll see 
 to every thing here. You can't do any good, and it 
 only worries you." 
 
 " Oh, I can't leave my mother — I can't leave 
 her." 
 
 Yes, but JuHa, she has left you, and you can't 
 go with her ; bo come with us ;" and with kind but 
 gentle firmness the warm-hearted speaker dragged 
 the weeping daughter from the room, and left her to 
 tears and solitude, while herself and two other in- 
 
14 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 mates of tlic house performed the last offices for the 
 inanimate form of the widow. 
 
 The funeral took place the next day. The mourn- 
 ers were few but sincere ; for Helen Seaton was a 
 woman whose worth could not fail to be appreciated 
 where known. 
 
 And Julia was now alone in the world— a world 
 of trials, sorrows, and temptations— a world of 
 struggles and conflicts. 
 
 I was a witness to the scene which I have just 
 narrated, and have told it as I saw it. It was one 
 of those episodes in the life of a physician almost of 
 daily occurrence, and which justify the members of 
 that profession above all others in asserting that one 
 half of the world docs not know how the other half 
 lives, 
 
 I found I could do nothing more either in the way 
 of aid or sympathy, and took my leave with a sor- 
 rowful heart ; for I could not but feel deeply inter- 
 ested in the unhappy girl thus thrown upon the cold 
 charity of a heartless and selfish world. 
 
 Such scenes were, however, of frequent occurrence 
 wit]i me ; for lacing comparatively a young physician, 
 I had, of course, numerous poor calls, as they are cal- 
 lously termed by some ; and at this hour, with the 
 sun of prosperity shedding his benign beams upon me, 
 
The Orphan 
 
 15 
 
 I can say with pride aud pleasure, that no one ever 
 went unheeded by me, and that I never hesitated 
 to inquire whether I should be remunerated or 
 not. 
 
 As I left the house, saddened by the scene which I 
 had just witnessed, and in which I had participated, 
 and half lost in thoughts of the orphaned girl whom I 
 had just left to her sorrows and her solitude, I be- 
 thought me of another patient whom I had not seen 
 for two days, and whose case, though desperate, did 
 not requh'e unremitted attention. 
 
 Buttoning up my coat tightly, for it was a raw March 
 day, I started to pay my visit, which I felt had been 
 loug delayed, and had not proceeded half-a-dozen 
 blocks, when a sharp cutting rain set in ; to avoid 
 which, I beckoned to an omnibus, aud I was soon 
 safely, though temporarily housed from the storm 
 which I saw was brewing. 
 
 I was the twelfth passenger, and right glad was I 
 to escape the pelting of the storm, which increased 
 with such fearful rapidity, that before the stage had 
 proceeded half-a-dozen blocks the rain was coming 
 down in torrents, and the wmd was howling with 
 angry violence. 
 
 Squeezing myself into the smallest possible com- 
 pass, and setthng back into my seat, I buried my 
 
16 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 face deep in the collar of my coat and was soon en- 
 grossed in thoughts of the poor girl I had just left, 
 and wondering what would be her future lot. 
 
 The sudden stoppage of the omnibus aroused me, 
 and hastily looking up to see who was so unfortunate 
 as to be compelled to get out in such a i^itiless storm, 
 I perceived the face of a young female who was 
 standmg on the step and peering anxiously into the 
 stage. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE OMNIBUS. 
 
 The stage was stopped, and the young woman 
 stood upon the steps anxiously looking in, and seem- 
 ingly saying by her very looks, "I hope there is 
 room." 
 
 " ^0 room, driver, all full," was shouted in a sten- 
 torian voice by a large, gruff-looking man, wrapped 
 to the eyes in a heavy cloak, and who was seated in 
 the farthest corner of the stage. "All full — twelve 
 inside now — go on." 
 
 " Yes, there is room," I said, as I saw the female 
 in the act of getting from the step, with a look of 
 disappointment which spoke volumes to my feelings. 
 
 ''There is room here, madam;" and springing 
 from my seat, which was nearest the door, I pushed 
 it open, and beckoned her to come in, at the same 
 time extending my hand to aid her. 
 
 " Never mind, don't make any excuses," I added, 
 hastily, seeing that she was about to withdraw ; and 
 as I spoke I cast a look at the voice in the farthest 
 
18 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 corner, which ought to have annihilated its own- 
 er — at least I thought so then — but I have 
 grown wiser smce, and am very glad now that it did 
 not. 
 
 "Here, madam, take my place/' and I fairly 
 pulled her in — for she half resisted my attempts — 
 seating her in the place which I had first vacated, 
 evidently to the annoyance of my neighbor, who cast 
 contemptuous looks at both of us, and drew himself 
 up into the smallest compass, as if fearing contami- 
 nation by contact wdth such a forlorn bemg. 
 
 Seating herself," or rather crowding herself on the 
 edge of the seat, for no one offered to make any 
 room for her, except the one I have mentioned, she 
 said to me, with an air and tone far above her ap- 
 pearance, ''I thank you very kindly, sir, and am 
 really sorry to incommode you." 
 
 ''Not at all, not at all, I can do very well 
 standing up and to prove it, I seized hold of the 
 door to prevent my falling into her lap, an occurrence 
 which had nearly happened by a sudden jerk of the 
 stage. 
 
 There was something in the air and manner of the 
 young woman so far superior to her personal appear- 
 ance, I could not but notice the contrast ; and as I 
 was compelled to stand opposite to her, I had a good 
 
The Omnibus. 
 
 19 
 
 opportunity of examining her without the danger of 
 being deemed impertinent. 
 
 She was young — ^perhaps she had seen two or 
 three and twenty summers — and the passing ghmpses 
 which I had of her face, showed expressive and 
 regular featm'es — not that she had any claims to 
 beauty, but there was an indescribable air about her 
 which excited interest, and commanded respect. 
 
 There was an expression of sadness, too, which 
 could not be mistaken, and which poverty alone could 
 not and does not fix, and that interested me — and 
 she was evidently in feeble health — that my pro- 
 fessional experience enabled me to d«tect — and that 
 too interested me. 
 
 I have said that it was a cold, raw, wet, disagree- 
 able March day, and I was well protected against 
 the inclemency of the weather, while my vis-a-vis 
 was clad in a coarse mourning dress of calico, and 
 her only protection from the cold and storm was a 
 small, faded, black worsted shawl, which she had 
 drawn closely around her, and which 1 saw from an 
 occasional shiver which passed through her, was in- 
 sufficient to keep either the warmth within, or the 
 cold from without. 
 
 I found ample occupation in studying the interest- 
 ing woman whom I had been enabled to oblige, to 
 
20 The Second Marriage. 
 
 keep my mind busy, and was lost in thoughts of her, 
 for I am somewhat addicted to giving play to my 
 imagination, when she arose and pulled the strap for 
 the driver to stop. 
 
 It was at the corner of Bleecker and Christopher 
 streets ; and as she handed her fare to me to pass to 
 the driver, with a renewed expression of thanks for 
 my kindness, I was determined that I would not 
 so soon lose sight of one who had excited such an 
 interest in me, and who, as I, with the impulsiveness 
 of my nature, had already made up my mind, was 
 evidently fitted for some better sphere than that of 
 the poverty and suffering which were evidently 
 allotted to her. 
 
 "I should not have been so anxious to reach 
 home," she said, with a sad smile, as she held her 
 hand waiting for the change, ''but that I have a 
 sick child, and he needs my constant care. Your 
 kindness is therefore the more grateful." 
 
 In an instant my hand was in my pocket, my own 
 fare passed up, and jumping out, I assisted her to 
 alight, amid the ill-concealed smiles and sneers of the 
 eleven who were left inside. 
 
 As we reached the side-walk, she turned towards 
 me as if to bid me adieu ; but I prevented that by 
 accosting her — '' Madam, you must excuse a stran- 
 
The Omnibus. 
 
 21 
 
 ger, but I heard you say you had a sick child at 
 home ; possibly I may render some assistance." 
 
 For a few moments she hesitated how to reply. 
 The rich color came to her cheek, her brow, her tem- 
 ples, and gazing* at me for an instant with her large 
 calm blue eyes, she seemed in that look to have made 
 up her mind, and fortunately I was neither young 
 nor handsome enough to be the object of suspicion. 
 
 " You are right, sir ; I have a sick child at home," 
 she said, with perfect self-possession, and still fascinat- 
 ing me with those large deep blue eyes, which seemed 
 to read my. very soul ; " but how can that interest 
 you, a stranger ?" 
 
 "Pardon me, madam, but really I cannot say why 
 or how I have ventured to accost you at all, and 
 yet something has seemed to say to me, though I 
 never saw you before, that you beheve I am prompted 
 by no improper motive ;" and I gave her look for 
 look, for I was, and felt honest : " friendly aid, though 
 coming from an utter stranger, may perhaps not be 
 unacceptable." 
 
 " You are correct, sir ; I do believe you honest, 
 and God knows I need" friendly aid ; will you venture 
 into the abode of sickness and poverty ?" 
 
 "My profession carries me there almost every 
 hour in the day." 
 
22 The Second Marriage. 
 
 Are you a physician ?" she inquired, her counten- 
 ance beaming with an expression in which hope, joy, 
 and fear were strangely blended, and her eyes moist- 
 ened with tears as she possibly thought of the Httle 
 one at home. 
 
 " I am, madam, and entirely at your service." « 
 " Oh, sir, I am so thankful. My poor Clarence 
 has been so sick, and I have not dared to send for a 
 physician yet." 
 
 And why not, pray," I said, anxious to put her 
 at her ease, and draw her from the possible idea that 
 I had any improper motive in my conduct. 
 
 " How could I, sir, when I have not the means 
 to " 
 
 Stop, madam ; you have wronged the profession 
 by your implied suspicion ; I know of no one who 
 would hesitate for an instant to respond to the cry 
 of sickness, though it did come from the abode of 
 poverty, vice, or wretchedness ; I am sorry you have 
 been so unjust." 
 
 Pardon me, sir, I meant for the best. But I am 
 so "thankful that you are a physician ; you have no 
 idea how great a relief it is to me. But here we are ; 
 enter, if you please, sir, and behold poverty and 
 wretchedness." 
 
 It is because I saw poverty and feared wretch- 
 
The Omnibus. 
 
 23 
 
 edness that I ventured to address you. But corae, 
 we must not talk so formally ; what is the matter 
 with your boy ?" 
 
 " You shall see, sir. Come in and she led me 
 into the back room on the second floor of a two-story 
 house near Greenwich Lane, as it was then called, 
 though now dignified by the high-sounding appella- 
 tion of ''Avenue." 
 
 A small cast-iron stove sufficed to keep the un- 
 carpeted apartment in comfortable warmth, near 
 which was seated a hard-featured, but honest, kind- 
 looking woman, who arose as we entered. On a pil- 
 low, placed across two chairs, lay the sick child, the 
 mother's treasure, a fine hearty-looking fellow, who ' 
 had seen some eighteen or twenty months. Hastily 
 throwing off her shawl, the anxious mother ap- 
 proached the sleeping boy, and in whispered tones 
 said, " Has he been asleep ever since, Maggie ?" and 
 bending over his humble couch, she kissed his fair 
 forehead gently. 
 
 " Ever since, ma'am ; I don't think he has stirred 
 once't : I guess he am't so very bad. But I must go, 
 now; I've a monstrous ironing yet to do 'afore night." 
 
 " God bless, you Maggie, I won't forget this kind- 
 ness," said the young mother, as the tear started to 
 her eyes ; and as the honest Maggie left the room, 
 
24 The Second Marriage, 
 
 slie turned to me aud said, " Here, sir, you can see 
 sickness and poverty ; God grant you may never re- 
 alize them, for I am sure you have a good heart." 
 
 Come, come, never mind that, let me look at the 
 child," I said, approaching the sleeper ; and as I said 
 so, he opened wide a pair of large blue eyes, which 
 were fixed intently on me for an instant in wonder 
 and surprise, and turning to his mother, his counten- 
 ance lighted up as he stretched forth his chubby 
 arms for her embrace. 
 
 Taking the child's hand, I examined him carefully 
 for a few moments, aud looking at the mother who 
 was watching my every movement with the most 
 anxious solicitude, I said, ''My dear madam, you are 
 unnecessarily alarmed ; this httle fellow has nothing 
 but a heavy cold ; we will soon drive that away there 
 is no earthly cause for apprehension." The expression 
 of gratitude and thankfulness which crossed the young 
 mother's face as I spoke, was a rich reward for my 
 poor services ; and as I saw the tear of happiness 
 steal unbidden to her eye, I thought I had never seen 
 a woman for whom I could feel so deep an inter- 
 est. 
 
 " He only wants a little care, a few nice things, 
 and all will soon be well ; and," I added, seeing the 
 expression which the words nice things had brought 
 
The Omnibus. 
 
 25 
 
 to her face, " I must take upon myself the charge 
 of those. You must permit me to ofler this," and I 
 tendered some money, without which I knew nice 
 things could not be procured, and of which there 
 was every indication that she stood sadly in need. 
 
 Her first motion was to stretch forth her hand 
 instinctively to receive the proffered money. The next 
 was to draw back, and coloring deeply, she said, 
 "This, sir, to a stranger. How can I? how dare 
 I ?" and she cast a look upon her child, which seem- 
 ed to say, " For him, I could do or dare any thing." 
 
 "Pray, madam, if you believe me honorable or 
 honest, make no excuses. I know you need it, and 
 I do assure you I shall derive a- thousand times more 
 pleasure in being allowed to relieve your necessities, 
 than you can in receiving it. Take it, madam — for 
 your child's sake," I added, seeing that she still 
 hesitated. 
 
 Taking the money with a trembling hand, she 
 glanced hastily at the amount, and sinking into a 
 chair, with her child closely clasped to her heart, 
 she gave way to a burst of tears, which I made 
 no attempt to check, for in truth I felt very much 
 like joining her, though without exactly knowing 
 why. 
 
 " Oh, sir, how can 1 be sufficiently thankful ? But 
 2 
 
26 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 for this we should have been turned into the street 
 this very day." 
 
 " You cannot mean that ? You surely cannot 
 mean that any thing wearing the shape of humanity, 
 could have put you and that sick child into the street 
 in such weather, and for such a paltry sum as that ?" 
 
 "Indeed I do. But for this Heaven-sent aid, we 
 must have been houseless and homeless, as we are 
 friendless." 
 
 I was too much incensed to make any reply to 
 this remark, for much as I had heard and read of 
 % hard-hearted landlords, I did not think such a thing 
 could be ; so having nothing to say, I said nothing, 
 but after musing a few moments, I pulled out my 
 tablet, and writing a prescription, handed it to her, 
 with the necessary directions. " And now, madam, 
 by your leave, I will go, and return again to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 Not, sir, until I tell you that my visit down town 
 to-day, when Providence sent you to my assistance, 
 was to obtain the amount due me for work done for 
 a store in Pine street, and which, if paid, would 
 
 have — " 
 
 " Deprived me of the pleasure of aiding you. 
 Pray say no more — I understand it all. Take good 
 care of the boy Ah, by the way, what did you say 
 
The Omnibus. 
 
 was his name ?" I suddenly asked, intending thus indi- 
 rectly to ascertain the name of my incognita. 
 
 " Clarence Marvin, sir," she replied, comprehend- 
 ing in an instant my poorly-concealed manreuvre ; 
 and feeling that I had no right to intrude further, I 
 handed my card to her, merely saying, that in case 
 my services should be required before the next day, 
 she would find me entirely at her service. 
 
 She commenced pouring out renewed expressions 
 of thankfulness and gratitude ; but as I found my 
 eyes were growing dim, I hurried off without giving 
 any time to finish her sentence, not even daring to 
 trust myself to a farewell look — and in a few minutes 
 I was in my own office, with my feet on the mantel- 
 piece, and a cigar in my mouth, pondering over the 
 singular events of the day, and wondering what 
 fruits they would bring forth. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A NEW FRIEND. 
 
 " You have kept those vests a long time, Miss 
 Seaton," was the stern salutation of Mr. Edwards, the 
 manufacturer from whom she received employment at 
 the magnificent remuneration of eighteen cents a-piece 
 for vests, " we can't allow this at all — it will never 
 do." 
 
 " My mother is dead, sir," was all Juha could say, 
 as the hot scaldmg tears forced themselves to her 
 eyes, and found their way down her cheeks. 
 
 « Oh — ah — hum. Well, I'm very sorry," he said, 
 carelessly glancing at her coarse black dress and veil, 
 the only outward emblems of mourning which poverty 
 permitted her to display, and he carelessly tossed 
 over the garments she had brought, checked them in 
 her little pass-book, threw out another bundle which 
 he entered as carelessly, and turned away to resume a 
 book he had been reading, without uttering another 
 word or vouchsafing a look. 
 
 Please, sir," said Julia, timidly approaching the 
 
A New Friend. 
 
 29 
 
 p^reat man, "could you let me have the money now, 
 I have to pay some expenses for the funeral." 
 
 It's against our rules. Miss Seaton, to pay out 
 of the regular times," he rephed, half angry that she 
 should dare to disturb him by such an application, 
 " it's entirely against our rules, and if we break them 
 once " 
 
 But, sir, I'll never ask again. I want it very 
 much, Mr. Edwards. I must pay the expenses of 
 my dear mother's funeral." 
 
 " Well, I suppose you must have it. Mr. Far- 
 mer," he said, without rising, to his clerk who was 
 near, "give this girl the amount due her on the book 
 up to this date ;" and he resumed his book, with a 
 muttered growl at her importunity, 
 
 Mr. Farmer, the gaily-dressed, highly-perfumed, 
 and heartless clerk, arose lazily from his seat, and 
 taking Julia's book without a word, added up the 
 trifling amounts due to her, and going to a drawer in 
 the desk, counted out the money she had so hardly 
 earned, which he threw down before her, without 
 condescending to give a look at the trembhng, 
 shrinking, suffering girl. 
 
 Silently and with brimming eyes she took it up, 
 placed it in her well-worn glove, and slowly left the 
 store. 
 
30 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 Julia Seaton's trials had now commenced. She 
 was indeed alone in the world. The kind-hearted 
 neighbors who had helped to lay out and bury 
 her mother, were as poor as herself, and as they 
 could not Afford to spend the time it would re- 
 quire for sympathy with the bereaved and lonely 
 girl, she was thus left to solitude and her own sad 
 thoughts. 
 
 Juha lived in a small two-story house in Forsyth 
 street, which as I have said, was occupied by several 
 other famihes, whose poverty compelled them to be 
 contented with the wretched apartments of the house. 
 The occupant of the room next to her own was a 
 young woman named Lee, who had often attracted 
 the attention of Julia by the sadness of her manner, 
 and the melancholy smile with which she received 
 and returned her salutations whenever they occasion- 
 ally met on the stairs. 
 
 Helen Lee, was a seamstress also, who had occu- 
 pied the back room some three or four months, and 
 there was a something about her which, while it 
 caused Julia to wish for her acquaintance, made her 
 afraid — if that is a proper word — to seek it. She 
 worked in her lonely room from morning 'till night. 
 She never received any friends nor yet company of 
 any kind, and, indeed, seemed to be alone in the 
 
A New Friend. 
 
 31 
 
 world. Xor did she seek any society from the in- 
 mates of the house, returning courteously and sadly 
 their salutations, yet ever refusing their invitations to 
 be more sociable and friendly. Xo one in the house 
 knew anything of her, and indeed all were too much 
 occupied with their own cares and troubles to make 
 many inquiries. No one knew where she came from, 
 what were her antecedents, who were her friends — if 
 she had any, nor, in fact, anything concerning her, 
 except that she was a quiet industrious woman, and 
 evidently very unhappy. 
 
 She was a pale delicate creature, who might pos- 
 sibly have seen l^etter days, for there was about her 
 an air of partial refinement which even poverty could 
 not entirely conceal ; and although she had returned 
 with sweet affability the various tenders of friendly in- 
 tercourse which had been made to her by the inmates 
 of the house, she had repelled their advances more by 
 her manner than her words. 
 
 Julia entered the house with a bundle of vests, and 
 ascended to her solitary room ; she met Helen who 
 was in the act of closing the door of her own apart- 
 ment. The sad, weary, and woe-begone appearance 
 of Juha could not fail to attract the notice of Helen, 
 who paused for an instant as if hesitating whether she 
 should address her or not ; and while she was thus 
 
o2 The Second MarriaCxE. 
 
 considering, they had approached so near that to pass 
 without absolute incivihty was impossible. 
 
 "I am very sorry to know of your misfortune," 
 said Helen, with a kindly smile, " but I did not call 
 in to see you, because " 
 
 ''It was not necessary," said Julia interrupting 
 her, and somewhat coldly ; " I found very kind friends 
 in the house, who did all that I could have asked of 
 any one, and to whom I cannot be too grateful." 
 
 " You are happy to have friends," said Helen, 
 sadly, a shade crossing her features, " I hope you 
 may always be so blessed ;" and she was passing on, 
 when Julia, scarce knowing what prompted the action, 
 placed a hand upon her arm, and said, " We ought 
 not to be such strangers. You appea?- to be alone — 
 I am alone — alone in the whole world ; my only true 
 friend," and here tears almost choked her utterance, 
 " has left me forever." 
 
 "We will not be," said Helen impetuously, "we 
 must not be — come in my room, come in," and she 
 hurriedly replaced the key which she had withdrawn 
 after locking the door of her humble apartment ; "we 
 must be friends, come in." And Julia, half-smiling at 
 the sudden change in the words and manner of her 
 neighbor, and more than half liking the generous im- 
 pulses which gave them birth, suffered herself to be 
 
t 
 
 ANewFriend. 33 
 
 almost dragged into Helen's room, and before slie 
 knew what she was doing, had laid down her bundle, 
 apd was seated in a low wooden rocking-chair which 
 Helen had dragged up for her. 
 
 ''We must be friends," said Helen, drawing a 
 chair close to Julia, taking both her hands in her 
 own, and looking affectionately in the wan face of 
 the orphan — "we must be friends. God knows, I 
 think we need them enough and from that moment 
 their hearts were openetl to each other, for Julia 
 could not resist her open frankness. 
 
 Julia passed an hour unconsciously in the company 
 of her new-found friend. They talked of their wrongs 
 and hardships, their trials and their sufferings — for 
 they were both seamstresses, and the reader need 
 hardly be told that- they had enough of all, at least 
 for sympathy. 
 
 " But, Helen dear," (for they had already reached 
 this point in their intimacy), "how came you to be 
 here alone ? you, so young, so handsome, so far above 
 your position ? As for me, these weeds tell my tale ; 
 and what they do not tell, you know, as you have 
 been here so long." 
 
 "It is a long, sad story, Julia. I won't tell it 
 now, but it may serve you to know it hereafter, and 
 at some other time I will make you acquainted with 
 
34 
 
 The Second 
 
 Marriage. 
 
 it. God preserve you, my dear Julia, from my trials 
 and my sorrows. A parent's curse hangs heavy on 
 my heart, and in the veriest sense of the word I am 
 alone. Oh, I want a friend indeed ; and if I had 
 but one bosom in which I dared confide my sorrows, 
 
 and from which I might look for sympathy" and 
 
 without concluding her sentence, she covered her 
 face with her hands, and gave way to the tears 
 which she could no longer repress. And thus was 
 commenced an intimacy which begun in tears, ended 
 in sunshine — born of sorrow, continued in joy — but 
 it was darkness now for them both. 
 
CHAPTER lY. 
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 My practice, though large among the poor and 
 needy, was not entirely confined to that class. 
 
 It had been my good fortune to be called in attend- 
 ance on patients among the better classes, and I had 
 the better fortune to retain them. 
 
 Among these was the family of one Mr. Evarts, a 
 merchant of high standing, great wealth, and good 
 social position. Besides having been regularly re- 
 tained as his family physician, I was on terms of 
 intimacy with the family, and passed many pleasant 
 evenings there. The friendship of such a family was 
 of vast importance to me in a professional jioint of 
 Tiew, and I cultivated it gladly for that reason, apart 
 from the pleasure I derived from social intercourse 
 with its members. 
 
 I had been a regular visitor upon Mrs. ^Marvin's 
 child nearly a month — indeed I don't know bnt I 
 called often when my professional services were not 
 required. I had seen it restored to perfect health, 
 
36 The Second Marriage. 
 
 had received the tearful and grateful acknowledg- 
 ments of the now happy mother, and had imbibed an 
 increasing desire to know more of her history— for 
 each interview only served to strengthen my first 
 opmion, that she was out of her sphere, and that 
 some secret sorrow was preying upon her— so that 
 I found myself irresistibly drawn towards her. 
 
 I could not, of course, upon an acquaintance so 
 limited and so singularly formed, make any inquiries 
 of her, but her manner towards me convinced me 
 that she relied upon me as a friend, and I left it to 
 time to unravel the mystery which hung over her— 
 for mystery I was sure existed. 
 
 On the evening after my last call upon her, finding 
 nothing of special moment upon my hands, I deter- 
 mined to visit Mr. Evarts, and was welcomed by all 
 with their usual warmth of friendly greeting. 
 
 As Mr. Evarts and his family will play a promi- 
 nent part in this narrative, a few words concerning 
 them must be permitted. 
 
 I have said he was a gentleman of wealth— high 
 social standing, well esteemed as an h'onorable and 
 successful merchant. He was about fifty years of 
 age— a fine, healthy, hearty-lookmg gentleman, but 
 there was about him a pecuHar nervous irritability, 
 for which I could not account. 
 
The Second Wife. 
 
 31 
 
 His pecuniary circumstances were excellent. His 
 position was enviable as a merchant. His domestic 
 relations, so far as could be judged from external 
 appearances, were calculated to make any man hap- 
 py, for he had a wife and daughter, of whom, with 
 the same criterion, the world might be justified in 
 calling him a happy man. 
 
 And yet he was not happy, and it was made pain- 
 fully evident to me at times, though he made great 
 efforts to conceal it. There was, I was satisfied, 
 some hidden cause for his occasional fits of gloom 
 and despondency, varied only by high nervous irrita- 
 tion which annoyed me excessively, and I wished I 
 could discover it, not with any hope or desire of al- 
 leviating them, but from the natural impulses of 
 my heart, which made me wish every one to be 
 happy. 
 
 Mrs. Evarts was his perfect counterpart, and she 
 was a study indeed — an enigma, which I sought in 
 vain to solve. She was a large, elegantly-formed, 
 really fine-looking woman for her years, (for she had 
 passed the middle stage of life), but she was exces- 
 sively vain — fond of admiration, which she almost 
 courted, and proud even to haughtiness. Her man- 
 ners were pleasing, her address polished, and there 
 was that about her, which, barring her excessive van- 
 
38 The Second Marriage. 
 
 ity and foolish pride, would have made her a most 
 attractive companion. 
 
 It required very little discernment to discover that 
 she was tlie mistress not only of the mansion, but of 
 all that pertained to it, and I had learned enough in 
 my contact with the world to pay my court to her 
 accordingly, which might probably account for the 
 constant graciousness of my reception. 
 
 Mr. Evarts seemed to live m constant fear of her — 
 not that she exhibited any arbitrary conduct in my 
 presence, but he paid to her a marked deference, 
 which my experience told me arose more from fear 
 than from affection or acknowledged superiority. 
 
 Miss Martha, or Mattie, as the family called her, 
 (and by the way, my intimacy was so close that I too 
 had reached Mcittie,) was a pretty, blue-eyed, dark- 
 haired, well-formed, and well-informed girl — decided- 
 ly attractive in her manner and appearance ; gener- 
 ally cold in her expression until warmed with anima- 
 tion, when her conversational powers excelled those 
 of almost any one I had ever met. Indeed, she pos- 
 sessed that rare faculty to such an eminent degree, 
 that she could if she chose, invest the most trivial sub- 
 ject with the deepest interest, and possessing wonder- 
 ful powers of description, her conversation was, when 
 she chose to display herself, perfectly fascinatmg. 
 
The Second Wife. 
 
 39 
 
 Her deportment was generally calm, quiet, and 
 self-possossed, and so far as I could judge, and I cer- 
 tainly had every opportunity to form what I deemed 
 to be a correct opinion, she was of an even and 
 amiable disposition. 
 
 So much then for the family with whom I passed 
 my first evening since my introduction to the reader. 
 
 I was, as usual, graciously received. Mr. Evarts 
 was engrossed in the evening papers, and left me to 
 the ladies. To Mrs. Evarts I paid the most defer- 
 ential attention, while Mattie played and sang at me, 
 and for me, with condescending affability, and with 
 evident satisfaction to herself, for as I was a sort of 
 Calebs, rising in my profession, and moving in excel- 
 lent society, I was a fair match even for the daugh- 
 ter of Mr. Evarts. 
 
 I confess to passing a very pleasant evening ; Mat- 
 tie was unusually interesting, and I found myself more 
 than once during the evening wondering what kind 
 of a wife she would make for a physician. 
 
 As the evening wore on, Mattie having wearied of 
 playing and singing, the conversation took a general 
 turn, in which all participated, for Mr. Evarts had fin- 
 ished his papers, and joined in with pleasant alacrity. 
 
 It turned at length upon the profession I had 
 chosen, and by mere chance I spoke of the numerous 
 
40 
 
 The Second MarriacxE. 
 
 calls to which a physician has constantly to respond, 
 and which appeal so strongly to the deepest feelings 
 of the human heart— pity and sympathy. 
 
 I spoke of some cases of pitiable suffering which 
 had come under my own observation and care, and 
 drew a true but strong picture of the misery, want, 
 suffering and sickness, which it had been my lot to 
 witness, I spoke of those whom I had seen sick and 
 destitute, with no one near to comfort or console 
 them, with no friendly hand to offer the most triflmg 
 assistance. 
 
 " Oh Doctor exclaimed Mattie, her countenance 
 beaming with a generous sympathy, which seemed 
 to spring from the heart, - how I envy you the 
 opportunities which your profession affords of allevi- 
 ating the distresses of those unfortunate beings. It 
 must indeed be a source of boundless gratification to 
 know that you can give them at least the comfort 
 of your occasional presence,'' and she gazed into my 
 face with such an earnest expression of sympathy, it 
 fairly brought the hot blood to my cheeks. 
 
 ''Indeed, it is a great pleasure, though not un- 
 mixed with pain, for I can only mmister to then- 
 diseases, and their wants are sometimes harder to 
 bear than the sickness. Why, withm the past few 
 days, I have met one— a young female— almost desti- 
 
The Second Wife. 41 
 
 tutc — whose heart was racked with apprehensions 
 for her only child — a lovely boy of some eighteen 
 months, and who, but for my chance acquaintance 
 with her circumstances, must have iDcen thrust into 
 the street by a hard-hearted landlord for the paltry 
 rent of one miserable, cheerless apartment." 
 
 "Poor creature," said Mr. Evarts, involuntarily 
 putting his hand in his pocket, and in that simple act 
 affording me, as I thought, a clearer insight into his 
 true character than months of ordinary intercourse 
 would have enabled me to reach. 
 
 Mrs. Evarts, however, was not equally touched by 
 my narrative, or if she was, she concealed her feel- 
 ings very effectually. She glanced at her husband, 
 however, with an expression of uneasiness for which 
 I could not then account. He met her look, and 
 seemed fairly to quail beneath it, for he essayed at 
 once to change the conversation, but in this he was 
 foiled by Mattie very innocently, who, seeming really 
 interested, asked how I chanced to meet the person 
 who had excited such a warm interest in me. 
 
 Carried away by my feelings, I narrated briefly 
 the omnibus ride — my visit to her house — the sick 
 child, and drew a vivid picture of the miserable con- 
 dition to which she was reduced, closing by a very 
 emphatic declaration that I believed she was suffer- 
 
42 The Second Marriage. 
 
 ing wrongfully, through uo fault of her own, and I 
 expressed the hope that I might be enabled yet to 
 serve and right her. 
 
 " Poor creature," said Mattie, a tear trembling on 
 her eyelid, which I must confess I wished to kiss 
 away — "here, Doctor, give this to her as a token 
 of sympathy from one of her own sex," and she drew 
 from her purse a gold piece, which she placed in my 
 hand. 
 
 Mrs. Evarts looked reprovingly at her daughter, 
 but her father rewarded her with a glance of appro- 
 bation, and if she had taken the trouble to look in 
 ' my face, she would have read there the admiration - 
 which I did not care to conceal. 
 
 " Pray, Doctor," said Mrs. Evarts, with a cold, 
 deferential air, which chilled me to the heart, " I 
 should like to know who this paragon is, and where 
 she may be found. I am connected with an asso- 
 ciation which has for its principal object the relief 
 of cases such as you have described ; and I am sure 
 it will afTord us pleasure to aid one who seems to 
 have enlisted your sympathy so warmly. I fear — 
 perhaps I ought not to say that — but possibly the 
 natural kindness of your heart may have led you 
 into an error, and has run away with your judg- 
 ment. Give me her name and address, and, if she 
 
The Second Wife. 
 
 43 
 
 is really a worthy object, I assure you her distress 
 shall be promptly alleviated." 
 
 " Marvin — Cora Marvin," I exclaimed, impetu- 
 ously — as if the very mention of that name must 
 inevitably dispel all doubts as to her worth and 
 virtues. 
 
 These were very simple words ; but before I had 
 time to add to them, I discovered that I had sprung 
 a mine unconsciously ; and the explosion was actu- 
 ally terrific in its consequences. 
 
 "Sir — Doctor — Sir!" — exclaimed Mr. Evarts, 
 springing from his chair — his face crimsoned with 
 excitement, and his frame trembling with indescrib- 
 able emotion — " Do you dare to insult us in our 
 own house ? How dare you, Sir, mention that name 
 in my presence ?" 
 
 " Doctor," said Jane, with a glance of haughty 
 indignation, mixed with the most supreme contempt, 
 ^' I must confess my surprise that you have chosen 
 such a time and such a sul)ject." 
 
 " In the name of goodness, Mr. Evarts," I said, 
 utterly dumbfounded at this sudden explosion, and 
 covered with a confusion which I could not conceal, 
 " What have I said ? what have I done ? and how 
 have I insulted you ?" 
 
 " Doctor," said his wife, waving back her hus- 
 
44 The Second Marriage. 
 
 oaud with a haugMy gesture, as he was advancing 
 towards me to reply, I am convinced you have not 
 intended any wrong. There is some unfortunate 
 mistake. You cannot, I am sure, be acquainted 
 with the character and conduct of that vile woman, 
 or you would never pollute our house by the men- 
 tion of her name." 
 
 " I do assure you, on my honor " — and I placed 
 my hand on my heart to add to the solemnity of 
 my asseveration — " I had not the most remote idea 
 that you had ever before heard of such a person ; 
 how, therefore, could I imagine that you were in 
 any wise connected with her. You must pardon me, 
 for my offence has been most unintentional." 
 
 " ] believe you, Sir," she replied with a calm dig- 
 nity ; ''I could not be so much mistaken in a 
 gentleman who has been admitted to our friendship — " 
 and, without trusting myself to a reply, I bowed to 
 her implied compliment. 
 
 Mr. Evarts, while this brief conversation was car- 
 ried on, had thrown himself into a chair, with his 
 face buried in his hands, and as his wife concluded 
 her last remark, he uncovered it, and I actually 
 started back at the sight. He was ashy pale ; his 
 eyes were wet with tears ; and there was an expres- 
 sion of anguish which called forth my deepest pity. 
 
The Second Wife. 45 
 
 Such mental tortnre I never before witnessed under 
 any crrcumstances. 
 
 I saw that this evening was spoiled for any- 
 further pleasure, and, stammering out some words 
 which were meant as an apology for my uninten- 
 tional offence, I bade them good evening ; Mrs. 
 Evarts, contrary to her usual custom, waiting on me 
 to the door. 
 
 As I turned to bow a last adieu to Mr. Evarts 
 and Mattie, I saw him look at his wife so implor- 
 ingly — so beseechingly — with such an expression of 
 misery — I regretted from my heart that I had been 
 the unwitting cause of such unhappiness ; though 
 of course it was impossible for me to have foreseen 
 that Cora Marvin was in any wise connected with 
 the happiness or unhappiness of Mr. Evarts and his 
 family. 
 
 When I reached the front door, closely followed 
 by Mrs. Evarts, she touched my arm gently as I 
 was about to open it, and said — in tones intended 
 to convey the impression how deeply she shared in 
 the unhappiness of her husband — " Doctor, you 
 have unwittingly touched a chord which I am afraid 
 will vibrate long. The unfortunate woman whom 
 you have named, has brought shame, disgrace, and 
 infamy on a doating father, and wretchedness to all 
 
46 The Second Marriage. 
 
 of us : she is the guilty daughter of my unhappy 
 husband." And, without giving me an opportunity 
 of saying more than, " Good Heavens ! is it pos- 
 sible ?" she opened the front door ; and, before I 
 was fairly aware of it, I was in the street alone — 
 lost in amazement at the extraordinary disclosure 
 just made. 
 
CHAPTER Y. 
 
 THE stepmother's STORY. 
 
 The next morning, while seated in my office, 
 pondering upon the events of the past night, and 
 wondering where this extraordinary adventure would 
 terminate, a slight tap at the door, answered by the 
 usual " come in," ushered in a lady whose face was 
 covered by a green veil, so heavy I could not dis- 
 tinguish her features. 
 
 As I rose to salute her, she threw up her veil, and 
 I saw before me Mrs. Evarts, who half smiled at the 
 look of astonishment which I could not repress, on 
 beholding her there at such an hour. 
 
 Recovering myself, I proffered a seat, which she 
 took with one of her blandest smiles, and I could not 
 but think what must have been the fascination of 
 those smiles, when she was in the full bloom of her 
 power and beauty. 
 
 " I trust no one of the family is ill, Mrs. Evarts," 
 I said, for I saw that I was expected to say some- 
 thing, though I must confess I had no idea that her 
 visit was at all professional. 
 
48 
 
 The Secoxd Marriage 
 
 "^0, Doctor," she replied, with a sigh of well- 
 aflfected huniihty, mj visit here is in connection 
 with a matter, compared with which sickness would 
 be almost a pleasure. It may appear singular that I 
 
 should " and ^s I saw that she hesitated to finish 
 
 the sentence, I interrupted her, and said, "If it is 
 of such a character, madam, as may be confided to a 
 friend, and I may be enabled to serve you or yours, I 
 am sure you must feel that I am at your service." 
 
 " Thank you. Doctor," she repUed, bending on mc 
 a glance from her piercing black eyes, which seemed 
 to penetrate my very soul, it is because I believe 
 you are a sincere friend — because I beheve you have 
 the will to serve us, that I am here. I wish to 
 consult you with reference to the miserable young 
 woman whose name, so long forbidden utterance in 
 our house, was mentioned by you last evening." 
 
 " Of Mrs. Marvin ?" I mqmred, as if I had not 
 fully understood what she had said. "% 
 
 " Precisely. It is of her I would speak. I — in- 
 deed we are all confident that you could not have 
 been aware of the peculiar circumstances connected 
 with her, and her conduct towards our family, or 
 you would never have introduced a subject so painful 
 and mortifying." 
 
 " Most assuredly not," I replied, with an earnest- 
 
The Stepmother's Story. 49 
 
 ness which conyiuced her of my sincerity. " I never 
 saw or heard of her until within the past few days. 
 As I told you, I met her by chance, and had an 
 opportunity of serving her through her child. Of 
 her history I know nothing, nor have I spoken one 
 word to her of her past or future. I never have 
 refused to render assistance where it was required, 
 and I must confess that I did so in her case with 
 real pleasure, as my interest was awakened for her." 
 
 Oh, Doctor," said my visitor, covering her face 
 with her handkerchief, and feigning or feeling deep 
 emotion, "how gladly would we have placed that 
 unhappy woman in a position where she would not be 
 compelled to rely upon the casual relief of strangers. 
 She herself has placed a barrier between us, which 
 now can never be removed. No doubt you were 
 deeply interested in her," she said, suddenly changing 
 her tone, and giving me another of those piercing 
 glances. 
 
 ''To a certain extent, yes. I considered her as I 
 have found her, a modest, well-behaved woman, suf- 
 fering from misfortunes, and evidently one who had 
 seen better days. Besides, she had a sick child, to 
 which I ministered; and being brought in daily contact 
 with a woman young and beautiful, thus unfortunately 
 placed, it would have been unnatural had I not felt 
 
50 The Second Marriage. 
 
 some interest in her. I trust you know nothing 
 which will compel me to change my opinion of her — 
 nothing to make me feel she is unworthy of the in- 
 terest I have taken in her." 
 
 Doctor/' she said, slowly, and with an impressive- 
 ness of manner which quite startled me, "as your^ 
 friend, I feel it my duty to communicate what I know 
 of her — you may then draw your own conclusions. 
 Heaven forbid," she added, with deep earnestness, 
 "that I should attempt to check one generous im- 
 pulse of your heart, but I cannot doubt that you 
 would feel grateful to any one who should warn you 
 against the arts of a woman who has proved so 
 unworthy the regard even of her own family. If 
 she heeds not their feelings, you may judge how 
 capable she would be of appreciating such noble and 
 disinterested conduct'as you have displayed towards 
 her. Indeed, you have been wdfully deceived, Doc- 
 tor, for she is unworthy a single generous thought of 
 your heart." 
 
 " Certainly, madam, not only should I regret such 
 a discovery, but I would feel grateful, indeed, for that 
 friendly warning which might save me from the con- 
 sequences of misguided impulse. I never yet pauseii 
 to ask whether sickness and suffering was caused by 
 vice or misfortune ; it was enough to know that I 
 
The Stepmother's Story. 51 
 
 could be of service ; distress and want, whether 
 real or feigned, never fail to awaken sympathy in my 
 heart." 
 
 "I do not doubt it. But I am detaining you ; a 
 few words will sufiice to accomplish the purpose of 
 my visit — have you a few moments to spare ?" 
 - ''I am all anxiety, madam, proceed." 
 
 " You are aware, I presume, that I am the second 
 wife of Mr. Evarts," she said with a sigh, wiping 
 her eyes with her perfumed handkerchief. 
 
 " Until now I did not know it ; my acquaintance 
 with your family has not been of long duration, and 
 I have never made any inquiries concerning you, 
 which might be deemed impertinent." 
 
 " I am, of course, the stepmother of Mrs. Marvin, 
 and although that is a position always open and sub- 
 ject to reproach and censure, I feel that in all things 
 I have faithfully discharged my duty as a wife and 
 mother. 
 
 ''Four years since, while Mr. Evarts was at the 
 South, we were married, and from the first hour of 
 our meeting, Cora exercised the most decided repug- 
 nance to her father's marriage, and an hostility to 
 myself equally marked. I made use of every art and 
 effort to win her affections and regard, for having, as 
 you know, a grown-up daughter of my own, I fore- 
 
4 
 
 62 The Second Marriage. 
 
 saw what disagreeable consequences must ensue if she 
 continued to cherish such sentiments towards me. 
 
 " Mattie joined me in essaying to win the affections 
 of Cora, but in vain ; and surely, though she is my 
 own daughter, I may say with pride and pleasure, 
 that she has one of the best and most amiable dispo- 
 sitions I ever knew. We failed, however, with all our 
 efforts to win more from her than the merest ordinary 
 civihty ; and at one time, so determined seemed her 
 hostility, that rather than risk the happiness of myself 
 and daughter by being brought in constant contact 
 with Cora, I positively declined to become Mr. Evarts' 
 wife, for I foresaw that it would cause unhappiness, 
 and, perhaps, a separation of his family. 
 
 Mr. Evarts, however, assured me that Cora was 
 a hot-headed, impulsive, head-strong girl, accustomed 
 to have her own way, and that the only real objection 
 to our marriage, was the dread that I might exercise 
 an influence over her, and attempt to control her con- 
 duct. He knew she would love me when she came 
 to know me better ; and overcome by his arguments 
 and entreaties, I withdrew my opposition, and we 
 were married." 
 
 " I have never ceased to regret that as one of the 
 most unfortunate steps I ever took : not that Mr. 
 Evarts is anything but the best and most devoted of 
 
The Stepmother^s Story. 53 
 
 husbands, and he loves Mattie as though she were his 
 own, but it causes me ceaseless unhappiness to know 
 that I have been the cause, unwittingly, Heaven 
 knows, of all his troubles, when I had hoped to bring 
 peace and happiness to his heart and home. I assure 
 you. Doctor, that thought costs me restless days and 
 sleepless nights ; and I never cease to reproach my- 
 self for the weakness which led me to hsten to his 
 persuasions, in spite of my better judgment. 
 
 " I believe it, madam — from my heart I beheve it," 
 I said, carried away by my sympathy for her evident 
 distress ; for the tears were coursing down her cheeks 
 while she was speaking. 
 
 " Cora, Doctor, has been the cause of all our 
 troubles. No sooner was our marriage consummated, 
 than she commenced a systematic course of warfare 
 upon me. Daily she outraged my feelings by re- 
 minding me of what her mother was — how she acted 
 — what she did and spoke, and in a thousand ways 
 lacerating my feelings. 
 
 " I strove to make myself all her mother had been ; 
 and even in that she found cause for censure, re- 
 proaching me with striving to win her father from 
 even the memory of his first wife's virtues, as if it 
 was not my duty to make him forget the loss he had 
 sustained in her. 
 
64 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " I knew, however, that my duty as a mother and 
 wife demanded I should 'bear and forbear,' and I 
 did so ; yes, I would have done so to this hour, 
 but that she chose another method, and assailed 
 me through my daughter Mattie. Her cousin, 
 Robert Barton, a young, high-spirited gentleman, 
 was constant in his attentions, but Cora succeeded 
 not only in inducing her father to forbid him the 
 house, but shamefully cu'cuiated reports concerning 
 her, which would have blasted her character for 
 ever. Robert never entered the house from the 
 time after Mr. Evarts forbade his presence ; and, 
 it was only when Mr. Evai'ts was entirely convinced 
 of his perfect integrity, and so expressed himself, he 
 could be induced to renew liis visits, notwithstanding 
 his strong attachment to Mattie. 
 
 " This course on the part of Cora I knew was 
 prompted solely by jealousy of poor Mattie, who 
 really did not care for Robert, while Cora took no 
 pains to conceal her passionate attachment to him. 
 
 " It was not long before I discovered that she 
 had actually thrown herself into his arms, and had 
 offered to sacrifice her honor to her passion for him. 
 
 " This was more than I would submit to ; and I 
 therefore resolved that she or I must leave the 
 house ; and I will do Mr. Evarts the justice to say, 
 
The Stepmother's Story. 55 
 
 that when made fully acquainted with her conduct, 
 he did not hesitate an instant in his choice. 
 
 " Cora was sent to a respectable boarding-house, 
 in charge of an intimate friend of her father, but 
 she had not been there long before she became at- 
 tached to a young sailor, named Marvin, and I 
 beUeve she was married to him. 
 
 After he went to sea, her conduct became so 
 openly loose, Mrs. Edmonds refused longer to allow 
 her hi the house. Her father offered to make ample 
 provision for her, but she obstinately refused it, de- 
 claring she would rather starve than accept aid from 
 him, so long as he hved with one so unworthy of his 
 name as I was. 
 
 "Finding remonstrances useless, and almost heart- 
 broken at the misconduct of his only daughter, my 
 husband strove to forget her entu'ely, and by com- 
 mon consent her name has never been mentioned in 
 our house from that time forward." 
 
 " But did Cora admit her guilt ?" I asked, shocked 
 at the unexpected discovery made to me ; " was she 
 not repentant ?" 
 
 Oh, Doctor, no ; on the contrary, with the most 
 unblushing effrontery, she persisted in asserting her 
 innocence, in spite of the strongest possible proofs, 
 and even had the shamefacedness to assert, that the 
 
56 The Second Marriage. 
 
 whole was an affair of my invention, without a 
 shadow of foundation. Nay, she even went so far 
 as to accuse Mattie of the very crimes which I had 
 fastened upon her. I would have borne every thing 
 but that ; and, as I have said, a separation took 
 place. The rest I have told you ; and now. Doctor, 
 draw your own conclusions." 
 
 Really, Madam, you have astonished me beyond 
 measure. What you have told me is so foreign to 
 her manners — her air — her general deportment. 
 She seemed so modest — so retiring — so melancholy." 
 
 " She has enough to make her melancholy, if she 
 is capable of feeling at all. She has nearly broken 
 the heart of the best and kindest of fathers ; ruined 
 the peace of mind of one who would have been a 
 mother to her, and attacked the reputation of a girl 
 as pure and gentle as ever breathed. But her art- 
 fulness is beyond comprehension. She can assume 
 an appearance of modesty and artlessness, which 
 would deceive the wisest ; and I do not wonder at 
 all, that with one so full of noble and generous im- 
 pulses as yourself, she found an easy convert to 
 her arts. 
 
 " But, Doctor," she continued, wiping her eyes — 
 for she had wept freely during this recital — I have 
 warned you, as I felt it to be my duty, against her. 
 
The Stepmother's Story. 57 
 
 She will inevitably lead you into some disagreeable 
 position if you continue to visit her ; and that, you 
 know, would be fatal to your professional career. 
 The interest which 1 take in you as our friend and 
 physician, is the only excuse I can offer for my ap- 
 pearance here, and for what I have told you." 
 
 For which I thank you from my heart. I am 
 astonished and bewildered beyond measure at what 
 I have heard, but rest assured I shall not fail 
 to heed the warning you have so kindly given, and 
 prove myself worthy of the interest you have pro- 
 fessed for me." 
 
 " And now, I must go," she said, rising ; "it is 
 not necessary that you should mention to any one " 
 (and I knew from the emphasis on her words she 
 meant only her husband) ''that I have been here, 
 or what has passed between us ; I rely upon your 
 honor for that ; it would only cause added un- 
 happiness were it known that a friend, whom we 
 all so highly esteem, was acquainted witli this mel- 
 ancholy history. My sole object has been to 
 prevent you from being put in a false position, 
 and drawn into a vortex from which you might 
 find it impossible to extricate yourself. Good 
 morning, Doctor ; come around soon." And, draw- 
 
 2* 
 
58 The Second Marriage. 
 
 ing her heavy veil over her face, she left the office, 
 and I was aloue with my thoughts. 
 
 For a few moments I sat mute and wondering, 
 and at length, muttering to myself, " I believe it's 
 a cursed pack of lies from beginning to end," I 
 seized my hat and coat, and sallied forth to make 
 my routine of professional calls. 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 FATHER AND DAUGHTER. 
 
 Filled with my own thoughts, and they were not 
 very pleasant, I was just stepping off the office stoop, 
 when I stumbled against a gentleman who was in 
 the act of ascending, and looking up, I found myself 
 face to face with Mr. Evarts. 
 
 Excusing myself for the unintentional rudeness, I 
 invited him to walk in, and, as he complied, he cast 
 stealthy glances up and down the street, as if to 
 observe if he was watched. 
 
 " Doctor, can you give me a few moments of 
 private conversation — I will not detain you long," 
 and he spoke in those quick, anxious, nervous tones 
 which had often before attracted my attention. 
 
 " Certainly," and locking the door so as to pre- 
 vent possible interruption, I handed him a chair, into 
 which he sank as if exhausted, exhibiting every sign 
 of deep emotion. I maintained silence, for I well 
 forebode the purpose of his call, and from my heart 
 felt for him the deepest sympathy. 
 
60 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " You are not well," I said, at length, finding that 
 he uttered no word, " you look pale and nervous — 
 let me give you something to quiet you." 
 
 ISo, no — never mmd — it will pass over directly 
 ■ — don't mind me. You can imagme, Doctor, why I 
 am here," he said, with a strong efi'ort at composure ; 
 
 you mentioned last night the name of one who was 
 dear — oh ! how dear to me" — and he spoke so sadly, 
 so sorrowfully, I pitied him from my heart, for I saw 
 that she still held the first and hohest place in his 
 heart. 
 
 I merely bowed assent, and he continued : " Un- 
 worthily as she has acted — unkmdly — unnaturally — 
 she is still my daughter. She was my only child. 
 Doctor, and oh ! how I loved the very ground on 
 which she trod. Bat -Scannot, I could not hear that 
 she was suffering, without at least a wish to relieve 
 her. I would not for the world have her to know 
 that I have even heard of her position. Will you, 
 Doctor, be my friend and almoner ? Your profes- 
 sional character will enable you to do that without 
 suspicion. She must not, however, on any considera- 
 tion, know that it comes from me, or she would 
 refuse it." 
 
 "And why, Mr. Evarts?" I inquired, for notwith- 
 standing what Mrs. Evarts had just told me, I could 
 
Father and Daughter. 
 
 61 
 
 not feel that a daughter, an only, loved, and petted 
 child, would refuse a father's bounty — 'Svhy should 
 she refuse it as coming from you ? Will you not go 
 yourself, and — 
 
 "Not for the world," he hastily interrupted — "on 
 no conceivable account. Excuse me if I do not give 
 you any reasons for my conduct. Do not ask me 
 any, but consent to my request. You can manage 
 it in any manner you think proper, — only do it, and I 
 shall have the consciousness that I have done my 
 duty." 
 
 " I am afraid not," I thought, but 1 said, I 
 will do as you wish with pleasure, and shall ask no 
 reasons, but I cannot help thinking, if you saw that 
 sweet, mild, modest face — if you could witness how 
 uncomplainingly she suffers — ^if you could see that 
 lovely boy, of whom any one on earth might be 
 proud, you would — " 
 
 , "No more. Doctor. Do not speak so. I tell 
 you it is utterly impossible. You can tell her that 
 the money was raised by voluntary subscription 
 among those to whom you had mentioned her con- 
 dition and circumstances. That would be true, you 
 know," he added, with a ghastly attempt at a 
 smile. 
 
 I fear she would not receive it on those terms ; 
 
62 The Second Marriage. 
 
 for if I read her aright, she has her own share of 
 pride." 
 
 " Well, try it ; there is no harm in that. Here, 
 take this," and he handed me a roll of bills, some 
 fifty dollars in amount — " take it to please me, and 
 give it to her as you choose, so she does not know- 
 whence it comes." 
 
 I will give it to her as the voluntary contribu- 
 tion of a benevolent gentleman," I said, thrusting 
 it into my vest pocket, and as I spoke I noticed a 
 peculiar expression cross his countenance, the mean- 
 ing of which was an enigma to me. 
 
 " Some other time, when we have both of us more 
 leisure, I may make you acquainted with my history, 
 so far as she is concerned. I will call to-morrow, 
 and you will let me know then the result of your 
 visit. Of course you will see her to-day ?" 
 
 "I will, though I have no professional excuse to 
 make, for her child has been quite well for a week 
 past. However, I do not need any excuse for 
 calling." 
 
 " Who does the child look like, Doctor ?" he said, 
 as if half ashamed to ask the question. 
 
 " Xow I look at you more closely, Mr. Evarts, I 
 think he favors you wonderfully. He is a noble, 
 beautiful child." 
 
Father and Daughter. 
 
 63 
 
 One thing more, Doctor," he said, relapsing into 
 his nervous, anxious manner, as he took off his hat ; 
 ''there is no necessity of naming my visit or its 
 object to any one — I presume you understand ?" 
 
 "Perfectly, Mr. Evarts. You may confide in me, 
 I assure you." 
 
 " Then, good morning, and success to your mission," 
 he said, as he bowed himself out of the office. 
 
 "Here, then," I said to myself, "is a partial so- 
 lution of this mystery. There is some deviltry going 
 on, and I will fathom it, Mrs. Evarts, you need not 
 tell me. Xo matter, I'll get at the bottom of this 
 yet. I can play as deep a game as you can, any 
 day, and I hold the trump cards now." 
 
 True to my promise, when I had finished my regu- 
 lar visits, I called on Mrs. Marvin, and found her as 
 usual seated at her sewing, while Clarence was amus- 
 ing himself on the floor with a little toy which I had 
 brought him during his sickness. 
 
 She received me with her wonted frankness and 
 warmth, and I actually blushed when I looked at 
 her, to think that for an instant I had given credence 
 to a report derogatory to one on whose truth and 
 purity I would have staked my life. 
 
 This was the first thought ; then came to my mind 
 th^ words of Mrs. Evarts, her father's refusal to see 
 
64 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 her, the pecuharity of her present position, all com- 
 bined to change my views ; and though I could not 
 bring myself, as I looked in her open, ingenuous 
 face, to believe her capable of such artfulness and 
 deceit, I resolved to be on my guard, and watch her 
 narrowly Even her frank and cordial manner of 
 receiving me startled me, and I half shrank from her 
 extended hand. 
 
 Fortunately she did not notice the movement, but 
 exclaimed, " Oh, Doctor, I am so glad to see you, 
 and I am so grateful to you — my darling here is so 
 well, and so cheerful, and so happy, and I was so 
 frightened for fear I should lose him and she drew 
 the smiling little rascal to her heart with a fervor 
 that showed how deeply he was imbedded there. 
 " How can I ever repay you ?" 
 
 " Tut, tut — never mind that now — some other 
 time. No one knows what a day may bring forth. 
 You will be rich one of these days, and perhaps you 
 will recommend me to a large practice. Come here, 
 youngster," and the little fellow, who had grown 
 really attached to me, was in an instant seated on 
 my knee, playing with the seals of my watch, 
 
 " See, Doctor," she said, with a bright, winning 
 smile, and her countenance beaming with gratitude 
 to me, " Clarence knows who is kind to him. I 
 
 « 
 
Father and Daughter. 
 
 65 
 
 never saw him go to any one but you. Young as he 
 is now, he remembers your kindness, and I will see 
 that he never forgets it as he grows up. And now, 
 doctor, I want to return the money you were so kind 
 as to loan me the first day you saw me and going 
 to a small cupboard, she took thence some silver 
 wrapped "up in a bill, which she placed in my hand. 
 "There, Doctor, that makes me happy." 
 
 "But really, I don't want it, and I know you 
 can't spare it." 
 
 "Indeed, but I can. Mr. Parsons has paid up 
 all he owed me, and I have more left. With my 
 health preserved, I can get on well enough now." 
 
 " Mrs. Marvin," I said, now perfectly convinced by 
 the earnest, single-hearted sincerity of her manner, 
 " I cannot refuse to take this, for I have no right to 
 ask you to remain under obhgations to a stranger." 
 
 " A stranger. Doctor — may I meet more such 
 strangers," she said, with a frank ingenuousness. 
 "You must not speak in that manner to me. I 
 assure you that should circumstances again require 
 it, I would seek assistance from you with entire 
 freedom, before any other person in the city." 
 
 "Mrs. Marvin," I said, determined to come to the 
 point at once, " I took a great liberty last night with 
 you, and in your behalf." 
 
66 The Second Marriage. 
 
 With me, sir, and in my behalf?" 
 
 Yes ; I was in company where the subject of the 
 low wages paid to female operatives was broached, 
 and I spoke of the many cases of sickness and desti- 
 tution I had witnessed professionally, by reason of 
 their inability to eke out a living on the miserable 
 pittance paid to them." 
 
 " Well, sir," she said, inquiringiy, holding out her 
 arms for the child, as if fearful that some harm was 
 abou't to come to him, and I could see by the ex- 
 pression of her countenance that she was deeply 
 pained. 
 
 ''I assure you, madam, I spoke in very sincerity, 
 and from the best of motives." 
 
 " I do not doubt it, sir — I cannot doubt it. I 
 know not why I should feel at all, placed as I am ; 
 but yon will, I am sure, appreciate my motives in 
 wishing to keep the knowledge of my poverty from 
 the heartless world." 
 
 " I do assure you, madam, that what I mentioned 
 last night will never go beyond the family circle in 
 which it was named ; and to prove to you that my 
 narrative had elfect upon at least one person, there 
 was a gentleman present who handed this to me as a 
 tribute from his benevolence," and I tendered to her 
 the bills which Mr. Evarts had given to me for her. 
 
Father and Daughter. 
 
 61 
 
 She took the notes, and glancing hastily at the 
 amount, turned ashy pale, and I noticed that she 
 was excessively agitated. 
 
 Raising her eyes to my face, she looked at me with 
 a cold calm gaze, which I could not have withstood 
 had I harbored an improper thought towards her, and 
 extending the bills to me, she said calmly but firmly — 
 
 " You are very kind, indeed, and your friend is 
 very kind also, but I cannot accept this money." 
 
 " But, Mrs. Marvin, I assure you, your refusal 
 would be a source of great pain to the donor." 
 
 " Oh, no, that cannot be. I am an utter stranger 
 to him, save as your kindness may have made me 
 known' and magnified my wants. This sum will serve 
 to relieve a great many who are in greater need of it 
 than I am." 
 
 " Really, Mrs. Marvin, I cannot consent to receive 
 it. It was sent for your personal use ; and if I were 
 to make your refusal known to your fa 
 
 I checked myself l)efore the word was uttered, 
 but she caught my meaning, and springing towards 
 me with a flushed countenance and flashing eyes, she 
 exclaimed, eagerly — 
 
 " Oh, did my dear father send this to me ? Tell 
 me truly. Doctor do not deceive me ; do not let me 
 feel I may not look for truth in any one in the whole 
 
68 The Second Marriage. 
 
 world. Tell me, Doctor, in very truth, was this my 
 dear, dear father's gift?" And as she spoke, tears 
 gathered in her eyes, and her whole frame quivered 
 with excitement. 
 
 I dared not deceive her, as I had already said suf- 
 ficient to give her reason to doubt my denial if I had 
 felt inchned to make one, and I said frankly, " Mrs. 
 Marvin, upon my honor, it was given to me by him 
 for you." 
 
 " Thank God — thank G od," she exclaimed, passion- 
 ately, he loves me yet — I knew — I felt he did ; 
 God bless you. Doctor, for this moment of hap- 
 piness — the only one I have known for many months. 
 IsTow, tell me Doctor, how did he send it ? Why ? 
 What did he say ? Tell me all about it. Do tell me. 
 Doctor. Do not conceal anything from me. Oh, you 
 have made me so happy ;" and taking my hand she 
 pressed it with the fervor of earnest thankfulness. 
 " Oh, how happy it has made me, the thought — nay, 
 the certainty, that my father does love me still." 
 
 If I had chosen to avail myself of the opportunity 
 to learn all I desired of her history, it was now af- 
 forded me ; but I forbore to take advantage of her 
 present position and feehngs ; and therefore conceal- 
 ing the fact, that Mr. Evarts had been at my office on 
 that very morning, I merely mentioned, that having 
 
Father and Daughter. 69 
 
 chanced to name her on the previous evening in the 
 presence of her family, her father had called at my 
 office in the morning, and had instructed me to present 
 that to her. 
 
 But not as a gift from hmi, Doctor, not as 
 coming from a loving father's heart f and she spoke 
 with a tone of sadness and despondency that almost 
 brought the tears to my eyes. 
 
 No, Mrs. Marvm, I could not deceive you ; on 
 the contrary, I was expressly forbidden to mention 
 the fact of his agency at all." 
 
 I feared so," she said, mournfully, and tears 
 gathered in her eyes, as she bent over her child and 
 imprmted a kiss upon his upturned forehead, as if in 
 that act she derived some comfort m her affliction. 
 
 Suddenly raising her eyes to mine, she said eagerly, 
 " Oh, Doctor, tell me about it — all about my dear un- 
 happy father, for I know he is unhappy. How does 
 he look ? Is he well ? Do you think he loves me ?" 
 
 " Loves you ? Why, Mrs. Marvin, every thought 
 of his heart is centered in you. I may have done 
 wrong ; but you cannot imagine how I longed and 
 strove to bring him here that he might see this noble 
 httle fellow and I patted Clarence's head, as he 
 crept up to me. 
 
 " Did he ask after Clarence ?" 
 
•70 
 
 The Second Marriage 
 
 " Ob, yes ; he asked who he looked like, and I 
 said I thought he favored him." 
 
 "And did he seem pleased at the thought?" 
 Indeed he did ; he smiled as I have not seen him 
 smile m a long tune." 
 
 " You must have thought it very strange, Doctor," 
 she said, half musingly, " when you found out who I 
 was, to find me in such a situation ; a daughter~an 
 only child-separated from her only parent and 
 protector, and thrown, as you see me, upon the 
 cold world." 
 
 "I must confess that I did; and if I may be 
 permitted to speak in perfect candor, I should like 
 to say " 
 
 " Go on, Doctor," she said, seemg that I hesi- 
 tated—- you can say nothing for which 1 am un- 
 prepared." 
 
 "Well, then, frankly, I was about to say, that 
 what I heard of you made a deep impression on me 
 to your prejudice. That I cherish such feelings no 
 more, is abundantly evidenced by the feet that I am 
 here ; and, permit me to add, I am perfectly satis- 
 fied that all was pure invention, and intended to 
 operate on my mind against you. More yet—" 
 seeing she was about to interrupt me— - 1 know 
 and feel they have been falsehoods; and I tell you 
 
Father and Daughter. 
 
 n 
 
 that, while I honor and respect you, I will, with 
 my whole heart, serve you to the best of my poor 
 abihty. I am sure you do not merit the treatment 
 you are receiving." 
 
 " My conscience tells me that I do not ; and I 
 cannot but believe that there is a day of terrible 
 retribution coming, for those who have wrought so 
 much misery. You have received your informa- 
 tion, of course, from Mrs. Evarts — my poor father's 
 wife r 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " In the name of all that is evil," she exclaimed, 
 vehemently, wringing her hands, " why can she not 
 leave me alone now ? Surely she ought to be satis- 
 fied. She has blackened my character — she has 
 driven me from my father's home, and almost from 
 his heart — she has -wTought the worst ! — why can 
 she not leave me to my misery, and why pursue me 
 here ?" 
 
 " I believe you, Mrs. Marvin ; and this morning, 
 even while she was detailing he?- history of your con- 
 duct, I could not but feel that there was more than 
 she cared to have me know. Her very anxiety to 
 put me on my guard against your arts and wiles, as 
 she terms them, convinced me of that." 
 
 " Then you are not afraid of me. Doctor," she 
 
*I2 The Second Marriage. 
 
 said, stretcliiug out a baud, which I took respect- 
 fully — " I could not, if I would, deceive you ; you 
 have rendered me too great a service." 
 
 " But do you care to hear what I have to say ? 
 Perhaps our stories may differ somewhat. Shall I 
 tell you how you find me here ?" 
 
 " Most willingly would I hear of it ; and I trust 
 from my heart that I may yet be enabled to serve 
 you." 
 
 " Now then, Clarence, go play ; that's a good boy. 
 Sit down. Doctor ; I won't detain you long." And 
 she proceeded to give the narrative of her first 
 acquaintance and connection with her father's second 
 wife. 
 
CHAPTER YII. 
 
 THE daughter's STORY. 
 
 "It is not necessary, Doctor, to go back many 
 years," she commenced, when I had seated myself 
 with an air of interest and attention. My dear 
 mother, by whom, as well as by my father, I had 
 been much petted, died about six years ago, and I 
 was left in charge of my father's establishment. 
 
 ''About two years after her death, business, and 
 my father's health, which physicians declared re- 
 quired a milder climate, took us to Savannah, where 
 he purposed remainmg for at least a year, trusting 
 that the change of air would restore him. 
 
 His position in Jfew-York was such as to en- 
 title him to an entree into the best circles there, and 
 we were not long in forming many and pleasant 
 acquaintances. Among them was Mrs. Main and 
 her daughter Mattie, with a nephew, Robert Barton, 
 who boarded at the same house with ourselves, and 
 with whom an intunacy soon sprung up, for I was 
 exceedingly pleased with them. 
 
 4 
 
14 The Second Marriage. 
 
 "The mother, I fancied, had some odd ways, but 
 I was ready to excuse them, attributing them merely 
 to a natural eccentricity of character, at which I 
 often laughed, while Martha seemed to me to be one 
 of the most loveable, amiable girls I ever knew. 
 
 " Her cousin Robert, a handsome, well-informed 
 young man, was our constant attendant, and in such 
 pleasant society, the weeks and months flew rapidly 
 by. 
 
 "My fatlier was equally pleased as myself with 
 the family, and Mrs. Mam, seeing the impression 
 she had made, commenced laying her plans for the 
 future. To me she was all gentleness, kindness, and 
 affability. If I complained of a headache, she 
 affected the greatest interest and sympathy, and was 
 always at hand with some remedy. Indeed, she ex- 
 hibited such an unusual affection for, and interest in 
 me, I began to doubt her sincerity, and set a watch 
 upon myself lest I should be carried away by my 
 infatuation. 
 
 " Rol)ert Barton was exceedmgly attentive to me, 
 and but for a lucky chance, I must confess I might 
 have learned to love him in time, and, become his 
 wife, for such I thought were his intentions. 
 
 " I chanced one day to overhear a brief conversa- 
 tion between the cousins, which opened my eyes to 
 
The Daughter's Story. 
 
 75 
 
 the reality of my position, so far as he was concerned, 
 and thenceforward, though I permitted him to con- 
 tinu'^ his attentions, the better to further my own 
 plans, I was fully on my guard against his arts. 
 
 "As for Mrs. Main, from the moment I commenced 
 to suspect her, I began to find cause for suspicion, 
 and I learned to dread the influence she was rapidly 
 gaining over my poor father. Towards myself, her 
 conduct was in no wise changed, nor was that of 
 Martha, but I saw through the motives by which they 
 were prompted, and despised them, for I knew that 
 the efforts they so assiduously made to win my feel- 
 ings, were only made in dread of the influence I had 
 over my father, which both knew to be paramount. 
 
 "Matters continued thus for some six months, 
 when my father one day startled me by broaching 
 the subject of his possible marriage. 
 
 I knew at once to whom he alluded, and remon- 
 strated quietly but affectionately ; I promised never 
 to marry, but to remain always with him, and care 
 for him, so that he would not miss the comforts of 
 his own home. 
 
 " He kissed me laughingly, and said he was afraid 
 I was too late, as he was already under an engage- 
 ment to Mrs. Main, and when he added that the 
 wedding was to take place within a month, my heart 
 
t6 The Second M a r r i a g k . 
 
 sauk within me, for I felt that my happiness must be 
 the sacrifice, — and I spoke of Mrs. Main in prettv 
 strong, and not very flattering terms. ♦ 
 
 " I do not know, but I always suspected that '^^xs. 
 Main had overheard our conversation on this occa- 
 sion, but I found from that time a marked change in 
 her conduct towards me. As my future mother, I 
 tried to respect her, and sought now as much to win 
 her affections, as she had pretended to seek my own ; 
 but she received my advances with a coldness and 
 hauteur which I could not penetrate, and which 
 caused me many bitter tears, for the prospect of 
 liaving her for a step-mother grew daily more and 
 more odious to me. 
 
 " ]\Iartha, however, continued to treat me as be- 
 fore — nay, if possible, more kindly and affectionately. 
 She was so gentle, so apparently sincere in her affec- 
 tion — so sisterly in her conduct, I looked upon her 
 as my only friend, and to her I confided all my sor- 
 rows, and sought her advice as to the best means of 
 winning back her mother's feelings. 
 
 " Would you believe it. Doctor, ever word that I 
 uttered to that artful hypocrite was carried directly 
 to her mother, and I doubt not, with exaggerations, 
 thus enabling her to gain a perfect insight into my 
 feelings, and to retain the ascendancy which she had 
 
The Daughter's Story. 
 
 11 
 
 gained over my father by her arts, and over me 
 through my fears. 
 
 "The month flew rapidly by, and my father was 
 married. A few weeks afterwards, finding his health 
 entirely estabhshed, he removed to Xew«York, bring- 
 ing his family with him, and followed by Kobert 
 Barton, who continued his attentions to me, notwith- 
 standing the repugnance which I had latterly evinced 
 to his presence. 
 
 " For a short time after we reached home, matters 
 went on so smoothly, I began to hope for happiness 
 again. My step-mother treated me kindly, Martha 
 was all affection, and Robert, if not less persevering 
 in his attentions, had grown more respectful, and 
 had abated much of his wonted famiharity, so that I 
 could at least endure him. 
 
 "My dear father appeared perfectly happy, and 
 surely he deserved to be. You know that he is 
 wealthy, and his greatest delight consisted in adding 
 to the comfort and happiness of his family. He 
 was, so far as Mattie and I were concerned, perfectly 
 impartial, never making a present, no matter whether 
 small or large, to the one unless the other received 
 its counterpart. iSo distinction was ever made be- 
 tween us, at home or abroad. 
 
 "A few months of comparative happiness soon 
 
18 The Second Marriage. 
 
 wore away, when suddenly a change came over the 
 whole tenor of my life. 
 
 "Robert Barton, whose continued attentions to 
 me (for he had thus far been an inmate of our 
 family at my father's request) had attracted tlie 
 notice not only of my father, who frequently hinted 
 at them in a laughing manner, but of visitors to the 
 house, suddenly assumed an air of rude familiarity 
 which disgusted me. He sought every possible oc- 
 casion to be alone with me ; and almost invariably 
 when thus placed, Mattie or her mother was sure to 
 enter the room, which they instantly left with a half- 
 concealed laugh. 
 
 "From familiarity he grew to absolute rudeness ; 
 and on one occasion, when he uttered some remarks 
 which were insulting beyond forbearance, I so far for 
 got myself as to spit in his face, and ordered him 
 never again to venture to address me. 
 
 "Slowly and deliberately he left the room, but 
 turned to me, and said, ' Cora Evarts, to the latest 
 hour of your life you sliall repent this.' 
 
 " The same day lie left the house suddenly, and I 
 saw no more of him, nor did I even inquire after 
 him. Alas ! I httle knew then how capable he was 
 of fulfilling his threat ; and how terribly he has kept 
 his promise ! 
 
The Daughter's Story. 
 
 19 
 
 " From that hour an entire change came over Mrs. 
 Evarts — I cannot call her mother — she was not only 
 cold to freezing, but she was insolently haughty, 
 while Mattie followed directly in his mother's foot- 
 steps. I was treated by both of them more as a 
 menial than the daughter of her husband, to whom 
 both owed all they had on earth, and I vainly sought 
 for some explanation of their extraordinary con- 
 duct. 
 
 " If I spoke to Mrs. Evarts, she turned from me 
 with freezing coldness, hoping sarcastically that my 
 own heart and conscience could not give me any satis- 
 factory reply. Mattie absolutely refused to hold 
 communion with me, and even my dear father spoke 
 to me at times with a harshness of manner which 
 drew tears to my eyes. 
 
 " In vain I endeavored to find in my past conduct 
 some cause for this change. I reviewed my course 
 since my father's marriage, but could find nothing to 
 condemn. 
 
 " This state of things continued some weeks, until 
 my spirits and health were so visibly afi'ected, my 
 father could not help noticing the change in me ; and 
 on one occasion, when we were alone, and I saw that 
 he was looking at me with on air of affectionate 
 compassion, I threw myself on his bosom, and begged 
 
80 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 him, for the love he used to bear me, to tell me what 
 had Caused this dreadful change. 
 
 He colored, stammered, hesitated, and pressing 
 me to his heart with a sigh, promised to give me an 
 explanation at the earhest moment ; and without 
 affording me an opportunity of saying another word, 
 he left the room. 
 
 " On that same evening, while we w^ere at tea, I 
 noticed an air of constraint on the part of my father, 
 so foreign to him, I could not keep down the pre- 
 sentiment of coming evil ; and when he bade me go 
 into the library, and await his coming, my heart sank 
 within me, and I was in no wise reassured when I 
 noticed the contemptuous glances cast upon me by 
 Mattie and her mother. I trembled with apprehen- 
 sion, as I entered the library where my father was 
 seated. 
 
 As I met his cold, stern gaze, I could no longer 
 restrain my feelings, but bursting into tears, I sank 
 into the nearest chair. My father uttered no word 
 until he saw that I was more composed ; then rising, 
 he approached me, and simply asked, ' Do you know 
 where Robert Barton is V 
 
 "This question, so sudden, so unexpected, so for- 
 eign to my thoughts at that moment, took me com- 
 pletely by surprise, and fairly stupefied me. I could 
 
The Daughter's Story. 81 
 
 not imagine liis object in asking such a question, and 
 I felt that my cheeks and brow were crimsoned as I 
 answered, ' No, father, I do not.' 
 
 "My hesitation, my evident confusion, and my 
 blushes, all told against me, and he put his own con- 
 struction upon them. 
 
 " He evidently attributed them to guilt, for with a 
 sternness, which in his worst mood I had never be- 
 fore witnessed, he said, ' Then it is true, and my 
 daughter has disgraced herself and her father.' 
 
 " Doctor, I dare not recount what was said to me 
 on that occasion by my unhappy and deceived father. 
 He accused me of having disgraced myself with 
 Robert Barton, of having actually thrown myself 
 away upon him, and he, woukl you believe it. Doctor, 
 my own father, actually told me, that Barton, sooner 
 than continue thus to injiu-e and disgrace one to 
 whom he was under so many obligations, had decided ' 
 to leave the house and the city. I need not tell you 
 that I denied the charges with all the vehemence of 
 ' conscious and injured mnocence ; but to no avail. 
 My father was convinced of their truth, and finally, in 
 answer to my most impassioned appeals, declared 
 that his wife had the most irrefragable proofs of my 
 guilt. 
 
 " At the mention of that name, I felt that I was 
 4* 
 
82 The S e c o nm) Marriage. 
 
 lost indeed, for I knew too well her power and her 
 malignity, from past and bitter experience. But I 
 felt my courage rise with the emergency, and I im- 
 plored him that I might be allowed to confront her. 
 I denied with all the earnestness of my nature the 
 truth of any charge against my integrity ; and I con- 
 jured him by the memory of his deceased wife, by 
 the love which he had borne me, and which I felt I 
 had ever deserved, not to believe such things possible. 
 
 " He merely replied coldly, * Your wish shall be 
 gratified,' and rising, he rang the bell, and ordered 
 the servant to summon his wife. ' You shall have 
 every opportunity, Cora, of clearing yourself of this 
 degrading charge. Your mother has known of the 
 circumstances for a long time, but her respect for my 
 feelings has induced her to withhold all mention of 
 them, until I actually forced it from her. I trust you 
 may be able to clear yourself and me from so foul a 
 stain.' 
 
 Before I had time to reply she entered, and I 
 strove to catch her eye, but she carefully avoided it. 
 
 " ' Here, Cora, is your mother.' 
 
 " Oh, father, dear father, can you call her my 
 mother ? Can you utter that word at such a time as 
 this ? Can you call her my mother, who would tra- 
 duce me to my own father ? 
 
 «• 
 
The Daughter's Story. 83 
 
 " ' Silence, Cora, I will not hear such language. 
 She has behaved throughout this whole afifair with a 
 spirit of Christian charity and forbearance for which 
 I cannot too much honor her. Now, if you have 
 any thing to say, she is prepared to hear it.' 
 
 " ' Oh, Mr. Evarts,' said his wife, with well- 
 affected sorrow and humility, 'do spare me — let it 
 pass ; indeed, I do not wish to become the accuser 
 of your daughter. Heaven knows how I have loved 
 her, and striven to act a mother's part to her. I did 
 not wish to say anything of this unhappy affair — you 
 know I did not, and would not, until you forced it 
 from me.' 
 
 " ' I know my dear — I know I did, and can only 
 regret from my heart that you are placed in this unhap- 
 py position. This, however, is no time for mere person- 
 al regrets. Cora has demanded to be confronted with 
 you, and defied you to prove the charges against 
 her.' 
 
 " ' Heaven knows, my dear husband,' said the 
 viper, who had not yet dared to look me in the face, 
 and wiping the crocodile tear from her eyes, ' heaven 
 knows how deeply I deplore this unhappy affair. 
 But my love for you, and my reverence for your 
 character is too great to permit any personal feelings 
 to weigh with me against them. These are my 
 
84 The Second Marriage. 
 
 proofs/ and she handed to my father a small pack- 
 age of letters, ' and Martha/ she added, ' I am soiTy 
 to say, has been acquainted with her conduct from 
 the first.' 
 
 " * Call Martha/ said my father, opening one of 
 the letters, which having hastily glanced over, he 
 handed to me, and I seized it eagerly. 
 
 " While striving to make out its contents, for my 
 eyes were streaming with tears, Mattie entered the 
 room and took shelter behind her mother, so that I 
 could not look her in the face. 
 
 " I dare not. Doctor, repeat the contents of that 
 letter. In it, the villain Barton had the infamy to 
 declare, that he left the house because I had actually 
 thrown myself into his arms, and had voluntarily 
 offered to sacrifice my honor to my passion for him. 
 That I had offered to marry him if he would aid me 
 in bringing about a separation between my father 
 and his wife ; and that shocked at my proposals, and 
 dreading to be the means of bringing infamy and re- 
 proach upon one to whom he was under so many 
 obligations, he preferred to take the only course left 
 to him, and absent himself from the society of a 
 woman whose passion for him rose superior to "her 
 duty, her honor, her affection for her parents, or her 
 self-respect. 
 
The Daughter's Story. 85 
 
 " I was so utterly dumbfounded at the perusal of 
 this infamous letter, I could say nothing, but turned 
 from one to the other in stupid amazement. 
 
 " ' Do you require further proof, Mr. Evarts,' said 
 his wife with mock humility, ' Martha and myself, 
 have frequently seen them in ' 
 
 " Stop — one moment — let me say one -word,*' I ex- 
 claimed, dashing away my tears, and approaching 
 !Mrs. Evarts, who retreated to the farther corner of 
 the room, closely followed by Mattie, as if she appre- 
 hended personal violence from me. 
 
 " ' Kot one word, Cora, unless to disprove the truth 
 of that letter,' said my father. 
 
 Xot one word, father, and this to your only child ? 
 Oh father, by the memory of my dear mother, by the 
 memory of the happiness which was ours, before that 
 serpent entered our paradise, I conjure you to listen 
 to me. That vile, canting hy]30crite — that woman 
 whose life is made up of artfulness and lies — 
 that " 
 
 '"I will not hear such language, Cora, it is not the 
 proper way to meet charges so clearly proved. Con- 
 fess your guilt ' 
 
 " Oh, father," I could only say, in tones which must 
 have reached Lis heart, had it not been steeled 
 
86 The Second Marriage. 
 
 against me by his wife's fiendish machinations ; but he 
 would not hsten. 
 
 " ' Now hsten to me, Cora. You have accused my 
 wife of plotting against you, when her sole object has 
 been to serve you, and save me from the disgrace you 
 have brought upon me ' 
 
 " I repeat it/'' I exclaimed, stung to the heart — 
 "she has plotted against me — she has sought to un- 
 dermine me in your affections — she has sought to 
 win your heart from me, for the base purpose of se- 
 curing to herself and daughter, that wealth which 
 she knew was rightfully my own, 
 
 " Oh, Cora — Cora," exclaimed his wife, feigning 
 the deepest emotion, and wiping her eyes, " how can 
 you say so ? Have I not ever acted a mother's part 
 towards you ? Have I not ever been kind and affec- 
 tionate ? Have I not treated you as my own 
 child V 
 
 " ' Can you deny that, Cora,' said my father. 
 
 " Oh, my father, can you hear this against your 
 own, your only child ? 
 
 " ' Would to Heaven I had no cause,' he replied, 
 much moved. 
 
 " ' It is a sad thing for me to feel that one on 
 whom my hopes and affections have been so fixed, 
 should prove so unworthy — should bring shame to 
 
The Daughter's Story. 87 
 
 herself and disgrace to her doating father. Cora, 
 there is but one course left — confess your guilt — 
 acknowledge your sorrow for the past, and vile as has 
 been your conduct, if your mother consents to over- 
 look it, I will—' 
 
 " ' Of course, I wilV said Mrs. Evarts. ' God 
 forbid that I should be the unhappy means of 
 separating a father from his only child — I have one 
 of my own, and thank God, I have a parent's 
 
 feelings ' 
 
 Never — so help me Heaven, never," I exclaimed, 
 with energy, for every feeling was now thoroughly 
 aroused. ''Never — I would beg, starve, or die 
 first. Father, I am innocent ; I am as worthy of 
 your love, as I was the hour you sacrificed your 
 happiness and mine to the arts of that infamous 
 woman. She is guilty — she it is who should in the 
 very dust crave my pardon for the wrong she has 
 done to me. But mark me, father, she will as surely 
 reach her reward, as there is a just God above us. 
 He will never suffer the innocent to fall before such 
 art and lies. Perhaps not until she has driven me 
 into the grave, but it will surely come, and deep 
 will be the retribution which Heaven will visit on 
 her." 
 
 " * Oh, Cora I' exclaimed his wife, ' how can yon 
 
88 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 talk so of me ? If you knew what I had suflfered 
 since the discovery of your ' 
 
 " * Silence !' I said, in tones that caused her to 
 start back in aflfright, ' you vile, polluted, polluting 
 thing — silence ! Your aim is accomplished, your 
 end is attained for the present, but your punishment 
 will come. And now, father, what am I to do V I 
 said, turning to hun with forced calmness. 
 
 '"Do you refuse to ask your mother's pardon for 
 the Tile insinuations you have made V 
 
 " ' Oh, do not insist on that, Mr. Evarts,' said his 
 wife, with well-feigned earnestness ; ' I forgive her. 
 Heaven knows I do, from my heart, for the unjust 
 suspicions she cherishes against myself.' 
 
 "-'But I do insist,' said my father, and well she 
 knew that he would. 
 
 " ' Father, I cannot — I will not, though I die for 
 it — I will not so wrong you and myself.' 
 
 "'Then this house is no longer your home, 
 Cora.' 
 
 " ' Oh, dear husband,' said his wife, ' this must not 
 be — this shall not be. Rather let me go, for I have 
 been the cause of this unhappy scene, and Heaven 
 knows how unwillingly,' and again her tears flowed 
 freely. 
 
 "'Cora,' said my father, without heedmg her, 
 
 f 
 
The Daughter's Story. 89 
 
 ' you liaye heard my conditions, are you prepared to 
 comply with them V 
 
 " 'Though I should die here at your feet, father. 
 I would not.' 
 
 " ' Then we must part. Had you exhibited any 
 signs of contrition for your guilt, so plainly proven, 
 I could have overlooked every thing in pity for you ; 
 but your conduct now, shows that you are lost to 
 all feeling of self-respect or shame. Henceforth you 
 are no more my daughter.' 
 
 " ' Oh, father !' I exclaimed, sinking on my knees 
 before him, ' do not discard me thus, and with such 
 feelings. As I stand before my God, I am utterly 
 innocent of a single charge brought against me. We 
 are the victims of a deep-laid plot.' 
 
 " ' I will not hear those words again. You have 
 refused to adopt the course I pointed out, and must 
 abide the consequences. You shall not want, Cora, 
 but here you cannot remain. I will see that due 
 provision is made for you.' 
 
 "'No, father, no. I must either live here with 
 you, as your child, worthy of your love, or I must go 
 alone and uncarcd for, unprotected. God will pro- 
 vide for me, for I could not receive any thing from a 
 parent who denies to his only child, simple justice. 
 The hour will come when your heart will ache with 
 
Jt 
 
 90 The Second Marriage. 
 
 bitter sorrow, as you are made to feel the wrong you 
 have done to your innocent, unoffending child. As 
 for you, madam,' and I turned to Mrs. Evarts — 
 
 'Spare your ^-eproaches to her,' said my father, 
 ' she has only discharged a sacred duty which she 
 owed to me as a wife, and to you as a mother. I 
 honor and approve her course from first to last. 
 You have made your own choice, and you must 
 abide by it.' 
 
 " ' Father, dear father ! do you mean to turn me 
 from your home and heart thus rudely V 
 
 "'Cora, it is your own work — you have sinned 
 deeply. Had you but acknowledged your fault, I 
 could have taken you again to my heart, and called 
 you what you have ever been to me, my daughter ; 
 but now — ' 
 
 " ' Oh, Mr. Evarts — dear husband,' interrupted 
 his wife, 'do not go to such extremes. Do not, I 
 pray you, compel me to feel that my affection for 
 you has wrought this misery. Oh, I wish to Heaven 
 I had never seen you !' and sinking into a chair, the 
 vile hypocrite covered her face with her handkerchief, 
 and shed copious tears. 
 
 " This had precisely the effect upon which she had 
 calculated. The more she interceded for me, the 
 more obstinate my father became ; for, deceived by 
 
The Daughter's Story. 91 
 
 her tears aud her well-feigu^ed sorrow, he was so 
 bhiided he could not distinguish truth from false- 
 hood." 
 
 While Mrs. Marvin had beea^ engaged in this 
 narrative, little Clarence, who had been playing 
 about unnoticed, wearied of being left to himself, 
 had crept upon the bed, and had fallen fast asleep. 
 
 The fond mother, perceiving his position, and 
 blushing at the thought that she had been so inter- 
 ested in herself as to forget him, hastily arose, and 
 having placed him in an easy posture, aud covered 
 him up, resumed her seat and continued her narrative. 
 
CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 THE daughter's STORY CONCLUDED. 
 
 " I BEGGED and implored my father," she continued, 
 "to examine for himself — to institute thorough in- 
 quiries, and not to trust to evidence so uncertain in 
 condemnation of his own daughter ; but Mrs. Evarts 
 was prepared for this, for she had tutored two of the 
 servants, John and Julia, so well, that when sum- 
 moned by her, they stated, in the most positive 
 terms, the most infamous stories concerning my inter- 
 views with Mr. Barton. 
 
 " 1 saw through the plot, but was unable to de- 
 fend myself, except by my protestations, and they 
 availed nothing against the lies and perjuries brought 
 against me. 
 
 " To be brief. Doctor, for I have detained you too 
 long already, let it sufiBce to know that my father, 
 without shedding one tear, and so far as I could per- 
 ceive, without a sigh of regret, suffered me to leave 
 his house alone, unprotected and penniless, for I 
 resolutely refused to receive any thing from him, so 
 
The Daughter's Story. 93 
 
 long as he deemed me to be so unworthy of his affec- 
 tion, and could believe me guilty of the vile charges 
 brought against me, to the ruin of my own character, 
 and the destruction of his peace and happiness. 
 
 " I found lodgings at once with a kind-hearted old 
 lady, a friend of our family, who having known me 
 from my infancy, would not give credit to the vile 
 slanders against me, and from her I received every 
 care and attention. She had predicted trouble from 
 the moment she heard of my father's second mar- 
 riage, and was well assured that the whole was a 
 plot of his new wife's, concocted to wean my father's 
 love from me, and thus secure for her own daughter 
 my portion of his fortune. 
 
 ''Robert Barton had the insolence to call on me, 
 as soon as he could ascertain where I had gone, and 
 made to me the most infamous proposals, which I 
 need not say, Doctor, were rejected with the scorn 
 they merited ; but he had the audacity to threaten 
 that I should see the day when I would be glad to 
 have him renew them. 
 
 "I remained some four or five months with Mrs. 
 Edmonds, when I was one day surprised by a visit from 
 my present husband. He was a young man • of re- 
 spectable parents, who had visited occasionally at our 
 house, and who had always exhibited a marked pre- 
 
94 The Second Marriage. 
 
 ference for me. Having chosen the sea as his pro- 
 fession, I did not see him very often, but was always 
 favorably impressed with his frank, manly deport- 
 ment, and was pleased with his evident admiration 
 of myself, which he made no attempt to conceal. 
 
 " He had found me out, somehow ; I believe 
 through one of the servants, who had always liked 
 me, and who told him as much as she knew of the 
 occurrences which drove me from my father's house. 
 
 "The change in my position and circumstances 
 had made no change in his affection for me, and at 
 length I yielded to his entreaties, and became his 
 wife. He was a fond and devoted husband, and 
 though he was as poor as myself, I felt proud of his 
 honest, disinterested love, and have striven to make 
 him as happy as I could. As soon as we were mar- 
 ried, he proceeded to my father's, and producing the 
 wedding certificate, sought to obtain his renewal of 
 the intercourse with me ; but my father insulted him 
 by congratulating him on his marriage with a woman 
 of such exalted character as myself, and refused - 
 absolutely ever to acknowledge me as his daughter, 
 unless I would confess my guilt and ask pardon of 
 his wife. 
 
 " To this, of course, my husband had but one reply 
 to make, and from that time forward no communica- 
 
The Daughter's Story. 95 
 
 tion of any kind has passed between my father and 
 myself. Indeed, I did not know, until you told me. 
 Doctor, that he ever gave me a thought. 
 
 "We prepared then to face the world and its 
 sorrows with courageous hearts, and as I loved him 
 truly and devotedly, I was ready to share his lot, no 
 matter where it might be cast. 
 
 "Soon after my marriage, my husband went to 
 sea, and during his absence, Clarence was born. On 
 his next voyage he was made second mate of the 
 vessel on board which he now is, and which has been 
 gone nearly twelve months. I do not expect him 
 home for a year to come, as he is on a trading voy- 
 age, and the half-pay which he left for my support 
 has been cut short for some months by the failure of 
 the firm owning the vessel in which he sailed. He 
 does not know of my present position, for from the 
 character of the voyage, he could not let me know 
 where to dii'ect his letters. However, I do not 
 doubt that I shall get on until he does return, and 
 as he expects to command a vessel on his next voy- 
 age, and has promised to take me with him, I shall 
 try and make myself contented until he comes home. 
 
 " And now, Doctor, you know every thing. I 
 have given you a true narrative of the causes which 
 placed me, the daughter of the wealthy ^Ir. Evarts, 
 
96 
 
 The Second Marriage 
 
 as you have found her. 1 do uot doubt that you 
 have beeu warned to beware of me, and of my arts ; 
 that you have been told I am a vile, deceitful woman, 
 unworthy of your kindness or your sympathy ; but, 
 as I stand before Heaven, I have told you but the 
 simple truth. I have uot told you all I have been 
 compelled to bear and suffer since the failure of the 
 firm from whom I received my husband's half-pay ; 
 that was not necessary. You have heard my his- 
 tory ; judge now for yourself, if you can believe me 
 worthy of the epithets conferred on me." 
 
 " Mrs. Marvin," I said, as she concluded — and 
 with an earnestness which must have carried con- 
 viction of my sincerity — I believe every word you 
 have said. You have been infamously belied, and 
 cruelly abused and insulted ; but with you, I cannot 
 but feel that brighter hours will come. A just 
 Providence will never suffer such wickedness to go 
 unpunished, and in time your triumph over your 
 enemies will be complete. That you have been 
 made the victim of a foul, disgraceful plot, and 
 from mere mercenary motives, I think painfully evi- 
 dent ; but how your father could have been induced 
 to join in it against you — how he could be per- 
 suaded to condemn his only child — is past my com- 
 prehension." 
 
The DAtJGHTER's Story. 91 
 
 " Oil, Doctor," she replied, " you little know the 
 artful character of his wife. While feigning the 
 deepest affection for him, she was secretly plotting 
 against his happiness and my peace. Her whole 
 aim has been to secure for Martha that fortune 
 which my poor father, I know, would gladly have 
 divided between us ; and, Heaven knows, she would 
 have been welcome to my share if she had let me 
 alone, and suffered me to remain, as I was, happy 
 in the consciousness of my father's love. 
 
 " And now, my dear, kind friend, you must par- 
 don me that I have made you the recipient of this 
 unhappy domestic narrative. I would not have done 
 so, but for the conviction that Mrs. Evarts had es- 
 sayed to instil prejudices against me into your mind, 
 and to deprive me of so true a friend as you have 
 proved. I am truly grateful for your past kindness, 
 and could not bear the thought that you might 
 deem me so unworthy of it as I had been repre- 
 sented." 
 
 *' I thank you for the confidence placed in my 
 friendship. I wish — nay, I intend — to serve you. 
 Now, answer me a few questions. "Where are John 
 and Julia, those servants of whom you spoke, to be 
 found ?" 
 
 " John is married, and is only at father's during 
 5 
 
98 The Second Marriage. 
 
 the day-time ; he resided somewhere in the upper 
 part of the city. I do not know if he is still in the 
 family. Juha was brought from the south by Mrs. 
 Evarts, and is never in attendance on any one but 
 her ; so I doubt if you have ever seen her. 
 
 John, I have never seen ; perhaps she has 
 thought it wisest to get him out of the way. Julia 
 may be reached somehow ; I'll try and manage 
 that. Now, as to that] scoundrel Barton, have 
 you any idea where he is to be found ?" 
 
 " I have, as I said, scarcely heard of him, since 
 he called to make those infamous proposals which I 
 mentioned. I did hear that he had resumed his 
 visits to my father's, probably with a view to an 
 union with Mattie, now she is to become his heiress. 
 He has been to Europe, too ; but whether he has 
 returned or not, I do not know. I scarcely thmk 
 he has, or you would surely have met him there." 
 
 " One thing more. Have you the order for the 
 half-pay left by your husband ?" 
 
 " Yes ; it is in my trunk." And rising, she un- 
 locked it, and handed the paper to me. 
 
 " Trust this with me for a few days. I will find 
 out the assignees of B. & W., the owners, and I 
 doubt not they will cheerfully pay such a claim, 
 especially when I tell them how much you stand 
 
The Daughter's Story. 99 
 
 in need of it. Now, this money from your fa- 
 ther ?" 
 
 I would not touch one cent of it, knowing the 
 circumstances under which it was sent, if I were 
 starving. Give it back to him in any manner you 
 choose." 
 
 " Well, you are right, perhaps. You may not 
 see me again for two or three days ; but, bear in 
 mind, that I shall be working for you. Trust im- 
 phcitly in me, and, my word for it, you will see 
 happier days." And, after having received renewed 
 expression of her gratitude for my kindness, I took 
 my leave. 
 
 " I felt, as I left the house, that she was an in- 
 jured, maligned, and persecuted woman ; and I 
 determined, if it was within the range of possibiUty, 
 to see her restored to her rights. How that was 
 to be accomplished, I had no idea ; but there was 
 within me a presentiment of coming good, which I 
 encouraged, but for which I could not account, 
 except that, perhaps, the wish was father to the 
 thought." 
 
*■ 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE orphan's adventure. 
 
 Turn we now to Julia Seaton and her friend 
 Helen Lee. 
 
 Some three months, perhaps, before her mother's 
 death, there occurred an episode in the life of JuHa, 
 which is so directly connected with this narrative, it 
 should properly have been named before. For the 
 omission the reader ^^ill pardon me. 
 
 She had been down town with a bundle of vests 
 which her mother and herself had completed, and 
 was on her return home with a small parcel of new 
 work. 
 
 At the junction of Broadway and Grand street, 
 she was in the act of stepping off the curb-stone, 
 when she felt herself seized by the arm, and drawn 
 violently back upon the pavement. 
 
 Before she had time even to think, a baker's 
 wagon, driven at a furious pace, dashed by, and then 
 she saw the danger from which slie had been rescued, 
 for another step must have put her life at hazard ; 
 
The Orphan's Adventure. 101 
 
 and she felt that she had been preserved from the 
 most imminent danger by some unknown hand ; for, 
 even as it was, the wheel of the cart grazed her 
 dress, and left the mud-stains on it. 
 
 Trembhng with excitement, she turned to thank her 
 preserver, and her eyes met those of a tall, fine look- 
 ing young man, some four or five and twenty years 
 of age, who still held her arm, and who, as she 
 turned, dropped his hand from her arm, and raising 
 his hat, politely, and with great respect, said, " I 
 hope, miss, you will excuse my rudeness, but really I 
 had no time for ceremony then." 
 
 " I am too thankful for your kindness and appre- 
 ciate your bravery too highly to require any apology. 
 From my heart, I thank you sir and she extended 
 her hand with candid frankness and sincerity to him 
 whom she looked upon as her preserver. 
 
 "Take my arm a few moments, miss," he said, 
 "you are weak from fright, and tremble very much ; 
 let me assist you until you recover yourself a little 
 and he tendered his arm so courteously, that Juha, 
 who really needed some support, could not refuse, 
 and placing her arm within his own, she moved slowly 
 on, pondering how she could again express her 
 thanks for her companion's politeness and gallantry. 
 
 " Allow me to take that bundle," he said, at the 
 
102 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 same time taking from her reluctant hand the small 
 parcel she was carrying, ''now, lean on me ; really, 
 you tremble so, you require some support ; do not be 
 afraid." 
 
 Julia had not yet fully recovered her consciousness, 
 and silently walked on, pale, and trembling in every 
 limb. 
 
 Her companion strove to divert her thoughts from 
 the danger she had incurred, and conversed rather at, 
 than with her for some time, she answering only in 
 monosyllables, but by the time they had walked some 
 four or five blocks, she had recovered her strength and 
 composure, and was enabled at last to understand 
 where she was, and what was said to her. 
 
 She was walking arm-in-arm with a handsome, 
 fashionably-dressed young man, who was striving to 
 interest her by his conversation, and certainly it 
 seemed to her that she had never heard any one con- 
 verse so fluently or so pleasantly. 
 
 It was not long before Julia almost forgot the 
 danger she had incurred in the interest she took in 
 the conversation of her companion, who strove to 
 make her feel at ease, and appeared to take an in- 
 terest in her. He spoke of almost every subject but 
 himself, and drew from her a brief history of her 
 
The Orphan's Adventure. 103 
 
 position and circumstances, and before she knew it, 
 so rapidly and pleasantly had the time passed in the 
 society of her companion, she was at her own door. 
 
 Quietly dropping his arm, (and she blushed at the 
 thought that she had held it so long), ?;he stretched 
 out her hand for the parcel, which he still retained, 
 but instead of tendering it to her, he took her ex- 
 tended hand, as if he had mistaken her motion, and 
 retaining it while he spoke, said, May I not hope 
 to meet again one who has interested me so 
 much ?" 
 
 Julia, blushing and pleased, yet half doubting, re- 
 pUed, "I shall always be happy to see one to whom 
 I am so much indebted, but my home has no attract 
 tions for you." 
 
 I need not your home to attract me," he said, 
 with a glance which she could not mistake, and 
 which brought a deeper blush to her cheek and 
 brow. 
 
 "Do you often go down town?" he said, changing 
 the current of her thoughts so suddenly, she answered 
 without a thought, 
 
 " Oh yes ; I go down every Wednesday afternoon, 
 to take home my work." 
 
 " Indeed, and for whom do you work 
 
104 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " For Mr. , in Broadway." 
 
 " Oh, thank you ; I shall be very sure to see you ; 
 and now one favor before I leave you — may I know 
 your name ?" 
 
 "Julia Seaton," she replied, her eyes sinking be- 
 neath his burning glances. 
 
 " Then, Miss Seat on, I wish you a very good day 
 until I have the pleasure of seeing you again," and 
 pressing the hand which she had unconsciously suf- 
 fered to remain within his own, he turned and .left 
 her. 
 
 In a moment Julia was in the house, ran up stairs, 
 and throwing the parcel upon the bed, sank into a 
 chair without stopping to take off" her hat, and was 
 soon lost in a reverie, from which she was only 
 awakened by the steam whistle of a neighboring 
 manufactory, which warned her that it was six 
 o'clock. Fortunately her mother had that day gone 
 to visit a sick friend, taking her work with her, and 
 there was no one to notice her singular conduct. 
 
 Was it possible ! — she had been nearly two hours 
 sitting there with her hat on. Who can tell what 
 were her thoughts, and what fairy dreams floated 
 through her excited brain ? 
 
 "I must make up for this," she said to herself, 
 
The Orphan^s Adventure. 105 
 
 arising and going to the little looking-glass, which 
 showed a very pretty face with a heightened color, 
 and eyes sparkling with unwonted animation, " I 
 must make up for this," and undoing her bundle of 
 vests, she seated herself at her work, and pUed her 
 needle with a zeal and industry unwonted even for 
 her. But ever and anon she would pause in her 
 work, and laying the garment on her lap, gave way 
 to her thoughts, and suddenly seeming to recollect 
 herself, she would blush and smile, and resume her 
 work, at which she continued until the twilight set 
 in and warned her to prepare for tea, for her mother 
 promised to be at home in season for that meal. 
 
 But, to shorten this part of my story, it is only 
 necessary to say, that the young gentleman was par- 
 ticular to be on the look out on the following Wed- 
 nesday, and for many other Wednesdays, until it be- 
 came a part of her existence to see him. 
 
 He was so polite — so attentive — so respectful, and 
 he so evidently admired her, she could not be in- 
 sensible to hun, and step by step she went on, until 
 every feehng of her heart was engrossed by the 
 handsome stranger who had preserved her life. 
 
 She gave to him her whole heart. She confided to 
 him her history. She made him the recipient of her 
 5* 
 
106 The Second Marriage. 
 
 hopes and fears, her joys aud sorrows, and he sym- 
 pathised VN'ith her so warmly when she spoke of her 
 apprehension of losing her only parent, she was 
 almost ready to fall down and worship him. 
 
 Matters continued thus until after her mother's 
 death, and then his presence became dearer and more 
 necessary to her than ever — for was she not alone in 
 the world, and did she not need some one on whose 
 love and sympathy she could lean ? 
 
 He said his name was Robert Marston — that he 
 was a student at law, and hoped yet to make his 
 share of noise in the world, and when he spoke, Julia 
 felt that he must m time be a great man, for in the 
 simplicity of her heart, she clothed him with all the 
 attributes of goodness and greatness combined. 
 
 As yet he had never made his appearance in her 
 house. He had always some excuse for not being 
 introduced to her mother, and the poor, fond fool 
 believed him. 
 
 After her mother's death, he continued to meet 
 her as usual, and was more tender, more devoted, 
 more affectionate than ever. He had, too, since that 
 event, spoken more plainly of his intentions — which 
 were, as soon as he was admitted to the bar, to make 
 her his wife. He had not much to live on, but, as 
 
The Orphax's Adventure. 10 1 
 
 he laughingly said, it did not cost half as much to 
 support a prudent, industrious wife, as it did one 
 fashionable vice, and he would give up all his folhes 
 and vices for her dear sake. 
 
 Oh, how happy she was, and how cheerfully she 
 worked and sang all the day long ! yes, reader, sang, 
 for her all-absorbing love for Robert Marston had 
 completely neutralized her deep grief for her mother's 
 death ; and why not ? — she no longer felt alone in 
 the world, she had a strong and willing arm on 
 which to lean for support and protection, she had a 
 loving heart in which to pour all her joys and sor- 
 rows — in fine, she loved him with an intensity, an 
 exclusiveness, a devotion, which changed her ver^ 
 nature, and made her all love. 
 
 Their meetings had not been confined to the days 
 on which she went to and returned from the shop for 
 which she worked, when he was always sure to join 
 her, but she would steal out on pleasant evenings to 
 keep appointments with hmi, and listen to his pro- 
 testations of changeless devotion — building castles 
 of love, home, and happiness with the idol of her 
 young heart. 
 
 One evening they had been walking, and returned 
 rather earlier than had been his wont, and for the 
 
108 The Second Marriage. 
 
 first time he insisted ou inviting himself to her room. 
 Glancing upwards as she neared tlie house, she saw 
 that Helen's room was not lighted, and at once con- 
 jectured that she had retired ; so that the fear of 
 detection being removed, at least so far as her friend 
 was concerned, she consented that he should pass the 
 remainder of the evening in her apartment. How 
 long he had remained there neither exactly knew ; 
 but they were disturbed in the midst of their conver- 
 sation by a gentle tap at the door, in answer to 
 which Julia unthinkingly in\ited the visitor to come 
 in ; and Helen opened the door gently, saying, at 
 the same time, Did you say come in, dear ?" 
 . " Come in, Helen, come in. It is only a friend of 
 mine, to whom I am under many obligations," she 
 said, hastily, and coloring to the very roots of her 
 hair. " Mr. Marston, Miss Lee," she added, turning 
 to her companion, thus completing the introduc- 
 tion. 
 
 But he paid no attention to her words. At the 
 sound of Helen's voice he remained rooted and mo- 
 tionless in his chair. The blood left his face until it 
 was of an ashy whiteness, and he seemed like one 
 suddenly paralyzed. 
 
 Julia turned an inquiring glance at him, and then 
 
The Orphan's Adventure. 109 
 
 upon Helen ; but if her surprise was great at Mr. 
 Marston's conduct, it was lieightened by that of 
 Helen Lee. 
 
 She stood before him, within an arm's length, mute 
 and motionless, her eyes fixed upon him with an ex- 
 pression which it would be impossible to convey by 
 any words ; and with her right arm extended, her 
 outstretched hand pointing towards him, she seemed 
 as though frozen into a statue. 
 
 Julia Seaton turned from one to the other with 
 wonder and amazement, at this incomprehensible 
 scene ; but at length she broke the silence by mov- 
 ing towards Helen, and exclaiming, " In God's name, 
 Helen, what does this mean ?" 
 
 " Mean ! mean !" said Helen, sternly, never re- 
 moving her eyes from the miserable object before her, 
 and still pointing at him with an au* and expression 
 of scorn, hatred and despair, " mean, why, that he is 
 the foulest, vilest villain that ever disgraced human- 
 ity ; it means that he dare not look me in the face, 
 and say that I do not speak the truth." 
 
 " It means, that if he is a friend of yours, fate 
 could give you no greater curse than his friendship. 
 If he has dared to say he loves you, and I have no 
 doubt he has, he is a vile infamous traitor to honor 
 
110 The Second Marriage. 
 
 and decency. Out upon you, Robert Barton, out 
 upon you, and do not dare to think you may repeat 
 your triumphs here," and she moved towards Juha, 
 clasping her waist with one hand, and keeping the 
 other still pointed at the trembling coward who 
 writhed beneath her just rebuke, and quailed beneath 
 the glance of injured and hisulted innocence. 
 
 " It means, Julia," she continued, pressing the af- 
 frighted girl to her side, that he has broken my 
 parent's hearts ; that he has brought ruin, infamy 
 and disgrace upon a happy home ; that he has turned 
 an unprotected girl, whom he had foully wronged, 
 from her parent's home, followed by a parent's curse ; 
 it means, that he has doomed to a life of poverty, 
 sorrow and remorse, one whom he swore to love, 
 cherish and protect ; it means, Julia, that promising 
 marriage to a loving, trusting girl, he basely ruined 
 her, cowardly deserted her, and has dared to think 
 that his wickedness would go unpunished. He would 
 make Juha Seaton what he has made Helen Lee.' 
 
 " Leave this room, sir," she continued, with a 
 stamp of her foot and a menacing gesture, " the air 
 here is too pure for you to breathe," and she ad- 
 vanced towards him, w^iile the affrighted Julia clung 
 closer to her — ''your presence, pollutes the very at- 
 
The r ]' h a n ' s .V d v f. x t u r e . Ill 
 
 mosphere — leave this room, sir, and let me tell this 
 dear unprotected orphan what I know of her friend. 
 Begone, I say," she added, stamping her foot im- 
 patiently, and without a single word of reply or 
 remonstrance, he slowly left the apartment, and the 
 girls were alone. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A gentleman's revenge. 
 
 Robert Barton moved along mechanically after 
 he left the house, for he had been completely 
 stunned by the sudden and unexpected discovery 
 he had made. 
 
 A few blocks, however, of walking enabled him 
 to collect his thoughts, and he muttered to himself 
 threats of the direst vengeance against the detector 
 of his former villainy, swearing a bitter oath that 
 he would bring them both so low, they should yet 
 be glad to receive even charity from him ; and un- 
 fortunately, with his evil inclinations and inten- 
 tions, he had the means of carrying his threats 
 into operation. 
 
 On the next occasion when Julia returned her 
 work to the store, Helen accompanied her at her 
 own request, lest, as she feared. Barton might accost, 
 
A Gentleman's Revenge. 113 
 
 and perhaps insult ber ; and, as they neared the 
 place, they cast furtive but eager glances about, to 
 see if he was in the vicinity ; but there was no 
 indication that he was near, and they entered the 
 store together. 
 
 Julia, as was her custom, handed in her work 
 with her pass-book, for it was the regular pay day ; 
 and when the clerk had made the necessary entries 
 and additions, he laid down her money, and putting 
 the book towards her, turned away. 
 
 " You have not given me any work, Mr, Farmer," 
 she said, thinkmg he had accidentally omitted to 
 do so. 
 
 " I have orders not to give you any more work, 
 Miss Seaton," he rephed, coldly, and with the barest 
 possible approach to a sneer, which brought the 
 blood to poor JuUa's face, from which in a moment 
 it rushed to her heart, which seemed as if it must 
 burst. 
 
 " Iso more work," she tremblingly said — " is there 
 any reason for that ? I am sure I am punctual, and 
 is not my work well done 
 
 " I never ask questions of my employers. Miss ; I 
 obey orders, and that is enough for me." 
 
 But it is not enough for her. Sir," said Helen, 
 
114 The Second Marriage. 
 
 stepping up — " there must be some cause for such an 
 order. Why should Mr. Edwards wish to deprive 
 an orphan of her only means of earning a livelihood ? 
 We must see Mr. Edwards." 
 
 " We need not trouble ourselves, Miss," said the 
 clerk, with a very decided look of contempt ; "I 
 have had my orders, and I must obey them." 
 
 " I must see Mr. Edwards," said Julia, taking up 
 the idea which Helen had started — he cannot be 
 so unjust — so cruel — so illiberal. What have I 
 done, that he will not allow me even to work for 
 him ? I must see him, and," she added with bitter 
 emphasis, I will see him." 
 
 You will have to wait some time then, I am 
 afraid, for he left this morning for Newport ; and 
 here is his written order, the last I received from 
 him ;" and he handed her a hastily-written scrawl, 
 which he took from the drawer, and which she 
 rapidly glanced over. 
 
 " Why, Helen, you are included too, in case you 
 should ask for work. There is something more here 
 than meets the eye." 
 
 " Me !" said Helen, impetuously snatching the 
 note, and hastily scanning its contents — " he might 
 at least have waited until I had asked for work." 
 
A Gentleman's Kevenge. lln 
 
 " I only obey orders, young woman," said the 
 clerk, very decidedly — I did not know you, Miss 
 Lee, or " 
 
 " Of course not, Sir," she interrupted — "you could 
 not well know me, as you never saw me ; and I 
 should really like to know why I am included in the 
 banns ?" 
 
 " Oh, I have it," she said, after a momentary 
 pause, a gleam of intelhgence lighting up her pale 
 face — " I see throught it now. Come, Julia, there 
 is no use in waiting here, even if we could see Mr. 
 Edwards — come. But," she said, turning to the 
 clerk, " I do not think Mr. Edwards will sleep the 
 easier or more quietly for having deprived two help- 
 less females of the means of earning an honest liveh- 
 hood, to gratify the malice of any one." 
 
 " What did you mean, Helen," said Julia, when 
 they had regained the streec. 
 
 " Can't you read the riddle, dear ? Why it is 
 Barton's work. He was foiled in his efforts to ruin 
 you one way, and he means to do it in another." 
 
 " Good God ! can it be possible," exclaimed Juha; 
 " can any man be so mean — so base ?" 
 
 " Not only possible, but true, my life on it. But 
 come ; there's no use in despairing ; he can't go to 
 
116 The Second Marriage. 
 
 all the shops in New- York, and you ' can get work 
 where I do. Go over there with me ; Mr. Graham 
 is human, at least ; he won't descend quite so low I 
 think in meanness as Mr. Edwards, although he is 
 the richer man of the two." 
 
 ''You measure a man's meanness by his wealth, 
 dear ?" said Julia, inquiringly. 
 
 ''It is a fair standard in some cases, especially 
 with those who employ female operatives. The 
 more they gain, the more ready they are to cut down 
 the prices of their workmen. That is my experience, 
 and if you have not learned that lesson yet, you had 
 better begin at once." 
 
 And they passed on to Mr. Graham's store, which 
 was situated on the Bowery, which they entered in 
 full confidence of being treated there with ordinary 
 humanity and civility, and on the part of Helen, with 
 the certainty of procuring work for Juha. 
 
 In this she was successful, and as they left the 
 store, Julia fairly hugging her bundle to her, Helen 
 strove to raise her spirits by the assurance that Mr. 
 Barton could never have any influence in Mr. Gra- 
 ham's store. He was a kind-hearted, charitable, 
 christian man, whose munificent donations to almost 
 every charity in the city, had been blazoned abroad 
 
A Gentleman's Revenge. 117 
 
 through every newspaper in which it was worth 
 while to have one's name mentioned. 
 
 "Kow, JuUa," said Helen, with a very famt 
 attempt at a smile, "I suppose we may put Mr. 
 Barton at defiance, but — " 
 
 ''Oh, pray don't say but. It is an awful word, 
 and carries awful meanings. It is the dividing mark 
 between promise and fulfillment — between anticipa- 
 tion and reahty. I would, — but — I wish to — but. 
 Don't say but, dear — say the worst — let the worst 
 come, I do not fear it. I am alone and unprotected, 
 but — and Juha faintly smiled too as she caught her- 
 self using the forbidden word," I do not fear, and will 
 not despair. I do not forget — I never can forget my 
 dear mother's last words." 
 
 " And what were they, Juha ?" inquired Helen, 
 turning eagerly to her companion. 
 
 ''Ti'ust in God, and lead a virtuous life," said 
 Julia, with solemnity, for the remembrance of the 
 terrible circumstances under which these words were 
 spoken, was fi'esh in her mind, and her present 
 circumstances caused the remembrance of those 
 words to make a deeper impression than they ever 
 had before, even m the sad horn* in which they were 
 spoken. Helen turned away with an expression so 
 
118 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 sad, so sorrowful, so agonizing, Julia would have 
 regretted that she uttered the words, could she have 
 seen it, but she made no reply. They soon reached 
 home, and after an hour of quiet, but pleasant inter- 
 course, they separated for the night. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE. 
 
 The occurrences detailed in a portion of the last 
 chapter but one, occurred shortly after my last inter- 
 view with Mrs. Marvin. 
 
 I was called to a patient in the house where JuHa 
 Seaton resided, and as I ascended the stairs, he was 
 in the act of leaving her apartment, the light from 
 which shone so full upon his face, I could distinguish 
 plainly not only the deathly pallor of his countenance, 
 but the expression of devilish malignity which crossed 
 it as he closed the door. 
 
 As I had not seen Julia since her mother's death, 
 I determined to pay her a call, and having con- 
 cluded the visit to my patient, I knocked at her door, 
 which was opened by Julia herself. 
 
 She recognised me on the instant, and appeared 
 very glad to see me, introducing me to her friend, 
 Helen, as one to whom she was under many obli- 
 gations. 
 
 I saw that her eyes were red with weeping, while 
 
120 The Second Marriage. 
 
 Helen, (who, by the way, I had only seen before oc- 
 casionally as I passed in and out of the house while 
 attending Mrs. Seaton, and who had stopped me two 
 or three times to inquire after my patient), was ex- 
 cessively pale, and apparently laboring under some 
 terrible excitement. 
 
 I felt that I had some claim upon JuHa, and did 
 not hesitate to ask the cause. 
 
 Her reply, after interchanging glances with Helen, 
 and receiving her assent, was the brief narrative 
 which I have given above. I listened patiently, and 
 turning to Helen, asked by what name he was 
 married to her, (for a ceremony had been performed, 
 which afterwards, when he had wearied of her, he 
 declared was a sham), and she replied, " Robert 
 Barton." 
 
 At these words, I felt the blood coursing through 
 my veins with tremendous rapidity, but concealing 
 my emotion, I asked where she had met him ? 
 
 In Otsego county, where my father is a farmer 
 of wealth and high standing ; he was there passing 
 the summer in fishing and gunning, and boarded at 
 a neighbor's, within a few yards of my father's 
 house." 
 
 ' Where was this ceremony performed ?" 
 
 " In New- York. He persuaded me to elope with 
 
Husband and Wife. 121 
 
 him, my parents haYing absolutely forbidden his fur- 
 ther visits to our house." 
 
 " Was there no certificate given ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; but he took that to keep for me, the' 
 I have no doubt, the certificate was no more genuine 
 than the marriage." 
 
 It is not necessary to detail the further conversa- 
 tion I had with the unhappy victims of this infamous 
 villain. I did not give them any intimation which 
 might lead them to believe I had ever heard of Mr. 
 Barton, and kept my own counsels, well assured, that 
 if it was the Robert Barton, whose true character I 
 was so anxious to discover, I should learn it in due 
 time. 
 
 I bade them to feel no apprehensions from him for 
 the future, and took my leave with a heart filled 
 with the most joyous anticipations, for here was one 
 clue which might enable me to thread the labyrinth 
 through which Mrs. Evarts had reached the goal of 
 her desires. 
 
 My first care on the following morning was to pro- 
 ceed to the store of Messrs. B & B., owners of the 
 Omega, on board which Marvin was mate, and 
 having ascertained the name of then* assignees, I 
 went at once to their office. 
 
 I laid the case of Mrs. Marvin plainly before 
 
122 The Second Marriage. 
 
 them, and had the satisfaction of receiving not only 
 his back pay, amounting to some seventy dollars, but 
 their acceptance of the order for the regular payment 
 until the vessel should retm*n. 
 
 This was a source of great satisfaction to me, for I 
 knew that while it placed her above absolute want, 
 she could, by her needle, earn enough for the com- 
 fortable subsistence of herself and child. 
 
 That I was favorably — nay, more than favorably 
 impressed with Mrs. Marvin, I make no denial — I 
 was deeply interested in her welfare, and fully be- 
 lieved her to be the victim of a nefarious plot. To 
 ferret that out, I determined to lend all my energies ; 
 and I resolved to follow out cautiously, but perse- 
 veriugly, the clue afforded by the discovery of Bar- 
 ton's villainy. I well knew that one who had the 
 shrewdness and cunning to devise and carry out 
 such plans as those laid so successfully by Mrs. 
 Evarts, was also shrewd enough to place herself 
 beyond the reach of suspicion or discovery, and the 
 inevitable consequences. I must work therefore cau- 
 tiously ; for if once she entertained an inklmg of my 
 suspicions, she would doubtless interpose every pos- 
 sible obstacle to any further movement on my part. 
 
 It was a very busy day with me, so that it was 
 quite dark when I reached my ofi&ce, and as I en- 
 
Husband and Wife. 
 
 123 
 
 tered, I observed a gentleman seated in my arm- 
 chair, his head buried in his hands, and his elbows 
 resting on the table. 
 
 Ah, Doctor," said my visitor, raising his head, 
 and I recognised the voice at once as that of Mr. 
 Evarts, though it was so dark I could not distinguish 
 his features, "I am glad you have come — I have been 
 waiting some time for you." 
 
 " I am sorry to have kept you waiting," I said, 
 proceeding to light the gas ; and turning to him, I 
 saw that he was ghastly pale, and very much excited. 
 
 " Oh, not long — I have not been here more than 
 an hour." 
 
 " An hour !" thought I, and his words satisfied me 
 that the father, after all, predominated over the man, 
 
 "But it's no matter. Have you seen her?" for he 
 would not mention the name of daughter." 
 
 ''I have — T saw her the day before yesterday 
 afternoon." 
 
 "And did you give that money to her ?" 
 
 " I offered it to her, but she absolutely refused to 
 touch one cent of it. Indeed, she seemed hurt and 
 offended that I should have taken the hberty of 
 using her name and mentioning her circumstances at 
 all ; and all my efforts to persuade her to take it 
 were in vain." 
 
124 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " What reasons did she give ?" 
 
 " Simply that there were others much more desti- 
 tute than herself, and that the sum intended for 
 her, would relieve them from absolute suffering, while 
 she was able to earn at least a Uving." 
 
 Noble — generous," he said ; then suddenly check- 
 ing hunself — " then she is not really destitute ?" he 
 inquired, with affectionate earnestness. 
 
 " Oh, no, Mr. Evarts — so far from that, I have 
 only this day arranged with the assignees of B. & 
 W. that she shall receive the half pay which her 
 husband left ; and they have paid me some seventy 
 dollars which had become due since the failure of 
 the owners. She did not know how to arrange such 
 matters, but I had no difficulty whatever." 
 
 "Doctor," said Mr. Evarts, after a pause of some 
 moments, and drawing his hand across his forehead, 
 as if to collect his thoughts, "you have known my — 
 I mean Mrs. Marvin — some time now ?" 
 
 " Between five and six weeks." 
 
 " You see her frequently ?" 
 
 "Hitherto I have, professionally. I saw her daily 
 for two or three weeks, and have visited her several 
 times since her child's recovery." 
 
 "And what is your candid opinion of her ?" 
 
 " May I speak with perfect plainness ?" ■ 
 
Husband and Wife. 
 
 125 
 
 " I have asked the question, sir." 
 
 "Then, sir, my honest opinion is, that you and 
 your daughter are the victims of a deep-laid plot 
 to—" 
 
 "Stop, stop — that will do, Doctor," he said, 
 rising, his countenance flushing with excitement — " I 
 cannot hear such language. My wife is a virtuous, 
 high-minded, affectionate woman, and as incapable of 
 plotting or scheming against me or mine, as any one 
 could be. You take advantage, sir, of my confidence 
 in you, by the use of such language ;" and as I saw 
 that he was seriously hurt, I merely bowed as if in 
 assent to his right thus to check me, and said nothing. 
 
 "We will change the subject. Doctor," he said, 
 with an effort at a smile. " I am obliged to you for 
 your care of, and interest in my — Mrs. Marvin, and 
 can only regret the failure of your mission. I am 
 glad, however, to hear that she is not likely to 
 suffer." 
 
 "Not while I hve, and am able to prt/ent it," I 
 said, with an earnestness which caused him to look 
 upon me with a searching glance. 
 
 "Come around soon, Doctor. You will meet a 
 nephew of mine, or rather of my wife, who I think 
 would be a pleasant acquaintance. He returned 
 from Europe some months since, but his evenings 
 
126 The Second Marriage. 
 
 have been engrossed in business until now, and I 
 think you have never met him there. I don't know 
 that you have ever heard of him. His name is 
 Barton — Robert Barton, the son of a highly re- 
 spectable southern planter, as my wife informs me." 
 
 " I never have," I said, scarce concealing my joy 
 at the possibility of meetmg the person whom I was 
 so anxious to see. 
 
 " He was principal book-keeper in a large house 
 down town, which engrossed all his evenings ; but as 
 I think he and Mattie are making up a match, I 
 have some thoughts of taking him in with me." 
 
 " If you do," I said, mentally, and he don't take 
 you in, I shall be egregiously mistaken ;" but I 
 merely bowed to his remark, and promising an early 
 call, he took his leave. 
 
 You may rely upon it, reader, I did not leave that 
 invitation long unheeded. 
 
 On the following morning I sent the seventy 
 dollars to Mrs. Marvin, with a brief note, informing 
 her that she would thenceforth receive her lialf-pay 
 regularly through me, and added that it might be 
 some days before I saw her again. 
 
 A few evenings afterwards I paid my promised call 
 at Mr. Evarts' and, in added to the usual family, 
 was introduced to "my wife's nephew," the veritable 
 
Husband and Wife. 12t 
 
 Robert Barton, whom I bad seen coming from the 
 room of JuUa Seaton, and with whom the reader is 
 already partially acquainted. 
 
 He was a tall, fine-looking young man, easy and 
 graceful in his manner, and with an air of frankness 
 and candor which might deceive a saint. 
 
 The manner in which he met me on our introduc- 
 tion, convinced me that he had been well " posted 
 up" by mother and daughter ; and I had really some 
 difficulty in convincing myself that he was not one of 
 the most smcere, open-hearted, and generous-minded 
 men in existence. 
 
 But he was Robert Barton — the Robert Barton 
 of Cora Evarts — the Robert Barton of Helen Lee 
 and of JuUa Seaton — and I was proof against him. 
 
 Of course I was as polite as himself ; and I don't 
 know but I went more than half way to meet him. 
 Mrs. Evarts and Martha looked upon our growing 
 intimacy with evident pleasure, and this very fact 
 served to confirm my suspicions as to the trio. 
 
 Mrs. Evarts was more than usually gracious, and 
 Mattie made no scruple of exhibiting her very 
 marked appreciation of myself, though I could not 
 perceive that it caused any uneasiness to Mr. Barton, 
 which would have been natural, if Mr. Evarts was 
 correct in his surmises as to theu' position. 
 
128 The Second Marriage. 
 
 Yery soon after tea, Mr. Barton and Mr. Evarts 
 excused themselves on the plea of business, and soon 
 after they had gone, Mattie left the room, so that 
 Mrs. Evarts and myself were alone. 
 
 I was well convinced this was a premeditated 
 scheme, and it was not long before my suspicions 
 were confirmed. 
 
 After a few minutes of general conversation, Mrs. 
 Evarts drew her chair closer to my own, and with 
 an air of confidential intimacy, inquired, " have you 
 seen that unfortunate young woman. Doctor, since 
 our interview ?" 
 
 I was fully prepared for this question, and with- 
 out hesitation answered, " yes, Madam ; I have seen 
 her occasionally, on account of her child, who has 
 been ailing." 
 
 "You have reflected, no doubt, on what I told 
 you, Doctor ?" 
 
 ''Frequently, Madam. I could not fail to be 
 grateful for the kind interest you took in me, a com- 
 parative stranger, and have endeavored to profit by 
 your advice and warning." 
 
 " Do you not think her a very remarkable wo- 
 man ?" 
 
 "Yery, indeed," I rephed, rather impetuously, 
 without givmg her time to finish her sentence. 
 
Husband and Wife. 129 
 
 " I mean do you not find what I said of her to be 
 true ? that she is an artful, deceitful woman ?" 
 
 " I must confess I was very much disappointed in 
 her," I answered, equivocally. 
 
 I knew it could not be otherwise. Once you 
 were put on your guard against the impulses of your 
 too generous heart, you could not fail to discover her 
 true character. I am really glad I had it in my 
 power, and had sufficient confidence in you, to warn 
 you against her arts. 
 
 I dared not trust myself to any reply, and merely 
 bowed, a movement which she might construe as she 
 chose best. 
 
 " But, Doctor," she continued, with well-feigned 
 earnestness, and drawing her chair still closer to me, 
 at the same turning towards the door, as if to make 
 sure she could not be overheard, " I have that to 
 tell you, which will surprise even you. You will 
 hardly believe her capable of such baseness, but I 
 have reason to know, that she has already boasted 
 of her influence over you ; for I know that she has 
 given you her version of the causes which led to the 
 separation from her family — " and she paused, lean- 
 ing back in her chair, watching my countenance to 
 observe the efi'ect her words had upon me. 
 
 I was so completely taken by surprise at her last 
 6* 
 
130 The Second Marriage. 
 
 words, the color mounted to my cheeks, and I could 
 feel my very ears tingling ; and this, to a woman of 
 her perception, was a virtual acknowledgment that 
 what she had said was true. 
 
 I saw by her glance that she read my very 
 thoughts, and, cursing my stupidity, I was fain to 
 slip into the net spread for me. In truth, I did not 
 believe she had ever heard a word, directly or indi- 
 rectly, from or of Mrs. Marvin ; but my blushes 
 had betrayed me, and I was measurably at her 
 mercy. 
 
 Yes, doctor, and she has boasted openly that 
 her influence over you was so unbounded, you would 
 do anything she required. I am afraid, doctor, you 
 have not heeded all I said to you the other morning." 
 
 ''It is a wicked lie, madam," I said, .referring to 
 her own words ; but she applied my remark as I 
 knew she would, to the assertion of Mrs. Marvin's 
 influence over me, and I steered clear of that. " I 
 confess that I am much disappointed in the woman." 
 
 " I knew you would be," she said, not waiting for 
 me to finish the sentence ; "it could not be otherwise. 
 Heaven knows," continued she, with an affectation 
 of humility and sorrow, '' how I loved that girl, and 
 what efforts I made to screen her from the conse- 
 quences of her own acts ; but she was so impetuous 
 
Husband and Wife. 131 
 
 — so headstrong — so passionate — she would not ap- 
 preciate my motives. Poor Barton ! it was a long 
 time before I could coax him into the house ; but 
 now Mr. Evarts has discovered his true character, 
 he is as much attached to him as if he was his own 
 son." 
 
 " Indeed," I thought — but not aloud — ''perhaps 
 when he learns a little more of the truth, his attach- 
 ment may not be quite so strong ;" but I said, " he 
 .appears to be an uncommonly fine young man." 
 
 " Indeed, he is ; and worthy of all the friendship 
 you may bestow upon him. I am not ashamed to 
 say, I hke him — not alone because he is my nephew, 
 but " 
 
 " Because he is likely to become your son," I said, 
 smiling ; and, as she smiled without making any 
 reply, I was satisfied with her meaning. 
 
 " Is the poor thing entirely destitute, Doctor ?" 
 she inquired, with an appearance of deep interest. 
 
 " Oh, by no means," I said, unthinkingly ; "I 
 have succeeded in securing for her not only her 
 husband's half-pay, but some seventy dollars of ar- 
 rearages due." 
 
 "Indeed! — then she made some use of your 
 friendship," she said, with the slightest tinge of sar- 
 casm in her tone. 
 
132 The Second Marriage. ' 
 
 " Oh, not at all," I said, and I could have bit my 
 tongue off for my folly, "it was a mere matter of 
 humanity. Surely, remembering your kindness, and 
 the interest you have taken in me, I could not be so 
 ungrateful as to be influenced by one who bears you 
 no love." 
 
 This soothed and pacified her ; and after a few 
 minutes passed in general conversation, Mattie re- 
 turned, and the evening was passed in apparent 
 pleasure — for I strove to make myself forget what an 
 ass I had been in suffering Mrs. Evarts to worm 
 from me so much as she had done. 
 
 The gentlemen did not return until a late hour ; 
 and receiving pressing invitations from mother and 
 daughter to make my calls more frequent, with the 
 assurance that they would always be welcome, I took 
 my leave. 
 
 A few days after this visit, I received an anony- 
 mous letter, warning me that my visits to Mrs. Mar- 
 vin's were well known, and that it was equally well 
 known that my professional services were not re- 
 quired. I was cautioned to desist from them if I 
 valued my future character and prospects, and the 
 writer assured me that it had been the topic of con- 
 versation already among my friends. 
 
 This "weak invention of the enemy," which I 
 
<9t 
 
 Husband and Wife. 138 
 
 attributed to Mrs. Evarts, served to light a segar, 
 and all thoughts of it passed from my mind. Of 
 course I carefully avoided any mention of it to Mrs. 
 Marvin, as I had no desire to wound her feehngs by 
 any unnecessary allusion to a subject so painful. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A DISCOVERY. 
 
 Matters proceeded quietly for a few weeks, during 
 which nothing occurred from which I might glean 
 any information useful to Mrs. Marvin. 
 
 I visited her occasionally, and was always received 
 as a valued friend. Xo allusion was made to the 
 circumstances detailed in the previous chapters, ex- 
 cept when I mentioned my meeting Mr. Barton at 
 Juha Seaton's, and my subsequent introduction to 
 him at Mr. Evarts'. 
 
 Julia and Helen I continued also to see, and was 
 glad to learn that Barton had not made any new 
 attempt to see Juha, or to annoy her by his atten- 
 tions, although his attempt to deprive them of em- 
 ployment had compelled me to believe him capable 
 of any thing. 
 
 I was in the habit of caUing at Mr. Evarts' at 
 least once in each week, and I always found Barton 
 there, who received me in the frankest and -most 
 cordial manner ; and when we met, as we did occa- 
 
A Discovery. 
 
 135 
 
 sionally by chance in the street, he evinced the 
 greatest desire to court my intimacy. 
 
 Mrs. Evarts and Mattie treated me with their 
 wonted kindness ; and but for the certain conviction 
 I had of their iniquity, I could have enjoyed their 
 society, for they were well-informed and agreeable. 
 
 Mrs. Marvin's name, of course, never passed my 
 lips, and no allusion was made to her by any member 
 of the family. I knew that any attempt to force a 
 discovery would end in my discomfiture, and probably 
 bring additional trouble on her, so I prudently left 
 it to time and Providence to set her aright. 
 
 One day, by invitation of an intimate medical 
 friend, I accompanied him to see a patient, the 
 character of whose disease was so singular as to be 
 almost an exception in ordinary practice. 
 
 On reaching the house, which was m the upper 
 and eastern section of the city, my surprise and 
 delight may be imagined, when I discovered in the 
 patient, John, the servant of Mr. Evarts, who had 
 been suborned to perjure himself against his master's 
 daughter. 
 
 He knew me well, and was much pleased to see 
 me ; asking after the family, and showing that he 
 was aware of the intimate footing on which I stood 
 towards them. In answer to my question why I had 
 
136 The Second Marriage. 
 
 not been sent for, as he knew I was Mr. Evarts' 
 family physician, he answered, without thinking, that 
 
 Dr. D , my friend, had been sent by Mrs. Evarts. 
 
 This at once let me into the secret that she feared I 
 might discover from John some things which she 
 would prefer to conceal from me. 
 
 My plans were rapidly laid ; and after examining 
 his case professionally, I called Dr. D into an- 
 other room, as if for the purpose of a consultation, 
 and briefly made known to him the condition of 
 things, so far as John was concerned. He readily 
 assented to aid me in my wishes ; and returning to 
 our patient, we found him in a high state of nervous 
 excitement, for he was dreadfully frightened at the 
 idea of having a consultation over his case. 
 
 Putting on an air of solemnity befitting the part I 
 was playing, I told him that his disease was of a com- 
 plicated and most serious character, in which Dr. 
 
 D coincided. That the utmost care would be 
 
 required on our part to insure his recovery, but that 
 every thing in our power would be done to serve 
 him. 
 
 He promised implicit obedience to our directions, 
 
 and I agreed to give Dr. D the benefit of my aid 
 
 and counsel, on condition that he should not mention 
 the fact of my being employed by Mrs. Evarts, as she 
 
A Discovery 
 
 137 
 
 would, doubtless, be very angry to find that he had 
 not reposed full confidence in the physician provided 
 by herself. 
 
 John and his wife promised ready compliance with 
 this or any other condition I might impose, for they 
 were both dreadfully alarmed ; and having prescribed 
 some very simple and harmless medicine, we took our 
 leave. 
 
 On our way down in Dr. D 's gig, I narrated to 
 
 him enough of Mrs. Marvin's history to interest him 
 deeply, and his hearty co-operation was cheerfully 
 promised. He consented to let me have my own way 
 with his patient, and, as well as myself, was quite san- 
 guine that some good would come out of this evil 
 after all. 
 
 This day was doomed to be one of uncommon ad- 
 venture. It was nearly the hour for dinner when we 
 reached my friend's house, and he pressed me so 
 earnestly to join him, I consented ; and it did not 
 cost much of an effort, for I was in the daily practice 
 of taking my meals at the nearest "restaurant where I 
 chanced to be at the time, and to any thing like home- 
 comfort I was an absolute stranger. 
 
 Mrs. D had gone to pass the day alone with a 
 
 friend, so we had a bachelor's dinner, and a pleasant 
 talk over old times, there bemg no one to overhear 
 
138 The Second Marriage. 
 
 us but Diuali, an old negro woman, employed as cook 
 and general maid of all work, who was waiting on 
 the table. 
 
 While she was clearing away the dishes and we were 
 preparing for our punch and segars, D said to me, 
 
 "Come — give me some more of the history of 
 your protege. Two head's are better than one, if 
 one is a pin's head ; who knows what service I may 
 be enabled to render you ; of course, it shall be in 
 strict confidence." 
 
 Thus assured, I gave him a detailed history of 
 Mr. Evarts, his marriage, his cruelty to his daughter, 
 and her present condition, not forgetting to give Mrs. 
 Evarts due credit for her agency in the matter. 
 
 Who was this Jezabel," he asked, " before she 
 had the good fortune to hook so fine a prize ?" 
 
 " A Mrs. Main ; they met at Savannah, in the 
 same boarding-house ; she spread her net, and caught 
 him, but as to who or what she was before, I don't 
 believe Evarts knows any more than myself." 
 
 A low " yah-yah-yah " from Dinah, caused me to 
 turn my head, and I saw her mouth stretched from 
 ear to ear, displaying her toothless gums, while her 
 whole frame was quivering with the laughter she was 
 trying to suppress. 
 
 "Why, Dinah, what on earth ails you?" said her 
 
A Discovery. 
 
 139 
 
 master, ''are you sick ? Here, take a glass of whis- 
 key — that's your standard remedy f and he poured 
 out for her half a tumbler of the raw material, which 
 she drained at a draught, wiping her mouth with 
 her apron. 
 
 " Come, Dinah, out with it ; that darkey knows 
 something," he said; "speak up, Aunty — don't be 
 afraid." 
 
 " Afeard — I guess I'd like to know who's afeard. 
 I does know suthing, and I aint afeard to tell it. I 
 guess I knows Ma'am Main, as well any other nigger. 
 I wonder if dis nigger did'nt live with her five years 
 down in Alabama. Ma'am Main, indeed — afeard of 
 Ma'am Main ?" and she looked at the whiskey-bottle 
 
 with such longing eyes. Dr. D , with a wink to me, 
 
 poured out another half-tumbler, which went the way 
 of the first. 
 
 " That will loosen the muscles of her tongue," he 
 said, laughing, as Dinah set down the glass. 
 
 " Come, now, Dinah, tell us what you do know 
 about Ma'am Main," I said, slipping a gold piece 
 into her ready palm, and without more ado, she did 
 tell us. 
 
 What was the nature of her information, it is nofc 
 necessary to mention now ; but it caused me to feel 
 that the hand of Divine Providence had been inter- 
 
140 The Secoxd Marriage. 
 
 posed in behalf of the injured and persecuted daugh- 
 ter of a most unhappy father, Dinah had indeed 
 lived with Ma'am Main, and to some purpose, and 
 
 was famiUar with events in her life, which . But 
 
 no more at present. 
 
 "J^ow, Dinah," said D , as she concluded, "you 
 
 know I have been kind and indulgent to you, and 
 don't scold you, when you get too much whiskey on 
 board, because I like you." 
 
 " Dat you is a fust-rate man," she said, her eyes 
 sparkling with animation at this praise, and the 
 whiskey combined. 
 
 " Well, then, you mustn't breath a word of this to 
 a single human being, 'till I tell you ; you hear ?" 
 
 " Sartin. Dey don't get nuffin out of dis nigger. 
 Mind you, massa, all I said am de trute — ebery word, 
 and Ma'am Main duss'nt say it wa'n't and she 
 sailed out of the room with a gait marvellously un- 
 steady, for she had drank a full half-pint of raw 
 whiskey. 
 
 Dr. D and I remained silent for a few mo- 
 ments. As for myself, I don't believe I could have 
 spoken rationally then on any subject, so highly was 
 I excited at what I had just heard. 
 
 I could not repress my desire to be moving about, 
 though I had no earthly object in view. In fact, I 
 
A Discovery. 
 
 141 
 
 was for the nonce, a little touched, I think, in the 
 upper story, so marvellous had been the narrative 
 which I had heard, and so certain of the consequen- 
 ces which I knew would ensue on its being made 
 known in proper quarters. 
 
 Bidding my friend a good-day — first heartily 
 thanking him for the assistance he had so unwittingly 
 rendered, in a matter so deeply interesting to myself, 
 I took my leave, and went about my routine 
 business. 
 
 1 am afraid I made some sad mistakes that day. 
 In fact I know of a violent emetic having been 
 administered to a patient, which I am sure I never 
 prescribed, but which I was compelled to acknow- 
 ledge, when my own writmg was exhibited to me. 
 
 My first resolve, after leaving Dr. D — 's, had been 
 to go direct to Mrs. Marvin's, and make her 
 acquainted with the occurrences of the day — and I 
 pictured to myself her cheeks flushed with pleasure, 
 her eyes sparkling with delight, and her frame 
 trembling with excitement, as she listened to me ; 
 but second thoughts prevailed. 
 
 I realized painfully that the denouement must be 
 much farther off than my heated imagination had 
 first proposed ; and to excite expectations in her 
 which might not be realized for months, if indeed 
 
 ♦ 
 
142 The Second Marriage. 
 
 at all, would have been but the refinement of cruelty ; 
 for " hope deferred maketh the heart sick." 
 
 I therefore kept my own counsel ; and, having 
 closed the duties of the day, retired to my office, 
 and smoked my cigar with unwonted gusto, for I felt 
 that I had accomplished much indeed, though the 
 actual result of my labors might be far off". 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MR. barton's adventure. 
 
 The same night, as I was in the act of retiring, 
 my oflBce-bell was rung violently, and, on admitting 
 the visitor, I found him to be a servant with a note 
 from Mr. Barton, requesting me to call around im- 
 mediately, but without stating the purpose of his 
 call. 
 
 Throwing on my cloak, I followed the man, and 
 was soon at his apartments ; an elegantly-furnished 
 suite of rooms in Bleecker-street. 
 
 I found him with two shocking black eyes, and 
 some severe cuts about his face, the evident conse- 
 quences of a hard fist well planted on his head. 
 
 In the name of goodness, Mr. Barton," I said, 
 " where have you been, and what have you been 
 doing, to get such a pair of black eyes ?" 
 
 " Go on, and fix me up, Doctor, and I will tell you 
 all about it." 
 
 Accordingly, I lanced his eyes, and having ordered 
 some raw oysters to be placed over them, dressed the 
 
144 The Second Marriage. 
 
 other cuts about his face ; and, while thus engaged, 
 he told me that during the evening he was at a well- 
 known restaurant with a friend, and, after having 
 theu" supper, they stood at the bar waiting for 
 the change, engaged in conversation. 
 
 While thus engaged, a tall, brawny-looking man, 
 having the appearance of a sailor, though he was 
 well dressed, came up to him, and asked him if his 
 name was Mr. Barton, to which he replied in the 
 affirmative, and without a word he went at him, and 
 before he had time to put himself on his guard, beat 
 him most terribly, as I could see for myself. 
 
 " Well, that was strange," I said ; "did you ever 
 see him before ?" 
 
 " IN'o ; and I don't know now who he is, or what 
 earthly cause he had for attacking me. As soon as 
 he was taken off, for he was nearly twice as large as 
 myself, I gave him in charge to the police, and he 
 was taken to the Tombs." 
 
 " Now, I want you to do me a favor, Doctor," he 
 continued ; "I don't want to prosecute the poor 
 devil, though I could send him to the ' Island' for this ; 
 will you go to the Tombs in the morning, for me, for 
 I would not go out with this face for an hundred 
 dollars, and just whisper to the magistrate what I 
 have told you. I wont prosecute him, but just 
 
Mr. Barton's Adventure. 145 
 
 have him bound over to keep the peace. He can't 
 get bail, I am sure, and a few days in the cells there 
 will cure him of his fighting propensity. As soon as 
 I can get out, I will go and have him let out myself, 
 on his own surety." 
 
 Of course, I promised to do as he desired, and was 
 about to take my leave, when he called me back, 
 and raising one of the poultices from his swollen eye, 
 said, " Doctor, you must manage this at the house 
 for me. I wouldn't have the old gentleman see me 
 with a pair of black eyes for half New- York. Make 
 it a bilious fever, or any thing you like ; but if any 
 of them talk of coming to see me, do you forbid it, 
 professionally. You take, eh 
 
 " Oh, perfectly ;" and with an inward chuckle, I 
 took my leave ; for really I was at heart not at all 
 sorry that he had got his just desert, for I had then 
 no doubt that he had been trying to play the buHy 
 over some one whom he thought was a safe customer, 
 and had caught a Tartar. 
 
 I did not believe a word of his sailor story ; but 
 as I had promised, and to satisfy my own curiosity, 
 I meant to keep my promise, and to attend at the 
 Tombs in the morning. 
 
 I arrived there before the regular business of the 
 day had commenced, and being well acquainted with 
 T 
 
146 
 
 The Second ^Marriage. 
 
 the sitting magistrate, obtained a private interview, 
 detailing to him the occurrence as narrated by- 
 Barton, and concluding by asking that he would be 
 content to bind the offender over to keep the 
 peace. 
 
 " Oh, certainly," he said, " if the complainant don't 
 appear, I'll do it in here. Sit still. Doctor, and I'll 
 have the man brought up," and he left the room to 
 give the necessary orders. 
 
 A few moments were passed by us in general con- 
 yersation, when an officer ushered in a tall, stalwart, 
 noble-looking young man, about twenty or two-and- 
 twenty years of age. He was, as Barton had said, 
 " decently dressed," though the sailor stuck out at 
 every corner, and he looked, as he undoubtedly was, 
 a perfect Hercules in strength. I did not at all 
 wonder at the appearance of Barton's face, but was 
 rather surprised that he survived at all the sledge- 
 hammer blows which such a man, when enraged, 
 could inflict. 
 
 "My man," said the magistrate, "you acted very 
 foolishly, last night ; I dare say you were a httle the 
 worse for liquor. Just ashore, eh, and off on a 
 spree ?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it, sir ; I was as sober as I am now, 
 and would do the same thing again. If you don't 
 
Mr. Barton's Advexture. 147 
 
 believe me, just bring that fellow here, and give me 
 five minutes alone with him." 
 
 I thought Barton would stand a poor chance even 
 for five minutes, but said nothing. 
 
 " The gentleman who was so brutally assaulted, 
 declines to prosecute you," 
 
 " He is no gentleman, sir," said the sailor, firmly, 
 yet with respect ; ''he is a liar, a scoundrel, and a 
 villain ; and it won't do any good to bind me over to 
 keep the peace, for if I catch him, I'll " 
 
 " There, you must not talk so ^ I must bind you 
 over to keep the peace for six months, I want bail 
 in three hundred dollars," said the magistrate, desiring 
 to end the matter at once, 
 
 " Make it three thousand, Judge ; I can get one 
 as easy as the other. I see — it's all right ; I under- 
 stand the game. Judge, I can't get bail, and that's 
 the end of it." 
 
 "Then I must commit you, temporarily. Have 
 you no friends who would go your bail for such a 
 small sum ?" 
 
 " Not one whom I would ask." 
 
 *'Then I must commit you ; I dare say, when they 
 find out where you are, you'll get bail fast enough," 
 and he went into the office to procure a blank com- 
 mitment. 
 
148 The Second Marriage. 
 
 While he was gone, the sailor sat down at the 
 table, leaning his head upon his hands, but not even 
 honoring me with a look. 
 
 The magistrate returned, and commenced filling up 
 the blank. What is the name ?" he said, to the pris- 
 oner. 
 
 " George Seaton ; and I ain't ashamed of it," was 
 the reply. 
 
 " Well, George," said the magistrate, with an air 
 of compassion, " I am really sorry to see a fine-looking 
 fellow Uke yourself in such a fix. But I must do it." 
 
 "There," — and he finished the commitment, and 
 was in the act of rapping for an ofiQcer, when I 
 arrested his uplifted arm. 
 
 "Make out a bail-piece. Judge; I will go his 
 security," and as I spoke, the sailor raised his head, 
 and looked at me searchingly, while the magistrate 
 could not repress his astonishment. 
 
 " I suppose you know — " he said. 
 
 " I know all about it ; I will go his bail for any 
 amount you fix, to which I can respond." 
 
 "I tell you what. Mister," said the sailor, rising 
 and fairly glaring at me, " if you belong to the same 
 gang as that fellow I thrashed last night, you'd 
 better let me go to prison — I wouldn't have your 
 bail." 
 
Mr. Barton^s Adventure. 149 
 
 " !N"ever fear, my fine fellow," I said ; " Judge, 
 "make out the bail-piece." 
 
 It was soon done, and I left the oflfice in company 
 with George. 
 
 As we descended the steps, he said to me, Pd 
 like to know what all this means ?" 
 
 "Never mind questions, now. Come with me ; I 
 want to ask you a few," and in silence I led him to 
 my own ofiice, and having locked the door to prevent 
 interruption, I told him to be seated, a direction 
 which he obeyed with a kind of dogged obstinacy. 
 
 " Your name is George Seaton ?" 
 You heard me say so." 
 
 " Your father was a ship carpenter ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " He was killed by falling from a staging, in the 
 ship-yard where he was at work ?" 
 
 "Well, he was ; but I'd like to know how you 
 know so much ?" 
 
 " Where is your mother ?" 
 
 " I can't find out ; I've only been ashore these 
 three days, and have been hunting for her ever since. 
 The old woman has moved smce I went away, and I 
 can't find her, high or low." 
 
 " And your sister Julia ?" 
 
 " Look here, Mister ; you are coming too near 
 
160 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 home. Do you know why I thrashed that long- 
 tailed monkey last night ?" 
 " No ; but I can guess.'' 
 
 " Well, I won't leave you to guess ;' I overheard 
 him speaking of Julia, in — " 
 
 "There ; I told you I guessed, and now let me 
 tell you something. First George, I honor you for 
 what you have done ; he won't forget you in many a 
 day. Your mother, I am sorry to say, is dead ; I 
 attended her in her last sickness." 
 
 " You did ; is she gone ? Are you a doctor ?" 
 he asked, incoherently, as the tears gathered in his 
 eyes and coursed down his sunburnt cheeks ; "God 
 bless you ;" and he hid his face in his hands, weeping 
 with uncontrollable emotion. 
 
 " Poor old soul — dear good mother, to think I 
 wasn't there. Did you ever hear her speak of me ?" 
 
 "Often and often, George, and always, as I am 
 sure you have deserved, as a dutiful and affectionate 
 son. But, come, George, be a man ; what can't be 
 cured must be endured. Of course you want to see 
 Julia." 
 
 " You needn't ask that." 
 
 " Well," and I wrote her address on one of my own 
 cards, "you will find her there. Don't forget to show 
 her both sides of the card," I said, as he sprang up 
 
Mr. Barton's Adventure. 151 
 
 and seized his bat in his anxiety to discover his sister, 
 " and mind you, George, I want to see you this even- 
 ing ; will you come around ?" 
 
 If I'm alive, and don't get in the Tombs again." 
 " You need not be afraid of that ; Mr. Barton 
 wont show his face out of doors for a month to 
 come." 
 
 " You don't say ; well, he got off cheap at that, I 
 can tell you." 
 
 " There, go along, see Julia ; she will tell you 
 who I am ; and when you come to-night, I will tell 
 you why I bailed you out, if she does not." 
 
 He hardly paused to thank me, but snatched up 
 his hat, and with a squeeze of the hand which re- 
 minded me of hun for the entire day, darted out of 
 the office. 
 
CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT. 
 
 Matters had gone on thus far very quietly, and 
 I had now begun to turn about in my mind how I 
 should legin the ending of the affair. 
 
 I was an occasional visitor at Mrs. Marvin's, and 
 am now free to acknowledge that my interest in her 
 grew more and more absorbing every day ; so much 
 so, I do not know but I caught myself wishing more 
 than once that Davy Jones' locker — that receptacle 
 for the lost things and beings of the sea, had caught 
 her husband, too. But when I called to mind the 
 open-hearted frankness with which she invariably re- 
 ceived me, and the sincere cordiahty of her welcome 
 upon all occasions, I felt that such thoughts were as 
 unworthy of my professed friendship for her, as they 
 were unjust to herself ; her character was so pure and 
 spotless, her conduct so irreproachable, her manners 
 so confiding, I felt that even to love her was sinful. 
 
Plot and Counterplot. 153 
 
 and to have breathed a word of love, would have 
 been the height of infamy. 
 
 1 had never yet breathed to her a word of what 
 I heard from John, Dinah, or Julia Seaton, but since 
 I had heard their narratives, my conduct and man- 
 ners, when in her presence, had undergone a marked 
 change, I was gayer — more lively in my conversa- 
 tion, and, indeed, every thing about me was so altered, 
 she could not fail to notice it. 
 
 How could I feel otherwise ? I knew that a day 
 of brightness and happiness was soon to dawn for 
 her — that her sorrow would be changed into joy, 
 her garments of mourning for the habiliments of 
 peace. At times she seemed to catch an inspiration 
 from me, and then her clear, ringing laugh, was very 
 music to my soul. Her countenance would light up 
 with a bright and joyous smile, such as was wont, I 
 doubted not, to shed joy and gladness over her 
 father's house and heart ; such as would now, if he 
 had but the courage to break the meshes of the net 
 which compassed him, have made his heart leap 
 within him for joy. 
 
 As I was specially anxious that Mrs. Evarts should 
 not entertain any suspicion that my intercourse with 
 Mrs. Marvin was continued, I was more than ever a 
 frequent visitor at the house. 
 
 7* 
 
154 The Second Marriage. 
 
 Barton, who seemed deeply grateful to me for the 
 part I had acted in the affair with George Seaton, 
 and for the manner hi which I had professionally con- 
 cealed all knowledge of it from the family, treated 
 me with more than even his wonted courtesy, and let 
 me into his mtimate confidence. 
 
 He informed me of his approaching nuptials with 
 Mattie, and of the brilliant prospects held out to him 
 by the alliance, as it would, in all probability, insure 
 him an interest in Mr. Evarts' business. 
 
 I taxed him, laughingly, with having been a sad 
 fellow ; but he shrugged his shoulders, and treated 
 his infamous conduct as though it had been something 
 of which he might feel proud. He was careful never 
 to mention any names to me ; and if he had even 
 named the poor deserted Helen, I was so well pre- 
 pared, I should not have exhibited any surprise. 
 
 But my time was soon to come, and I was looking 
 forward to the hour when I should feel at liberty to 
 bring matters to a crisis, when every thing was nearly 
 ruined, one day, by my accidental meeting with Mrs. 
 Evarts in the sick chamber of John. 
 
 She had called up to see, as she said, how he was 
 getting on, and the start which she gave on meeting 
 me in that place, had nearly thrown me off my guard. 
 
 I quickly recovered myself, and giving John a look 
 
Plot and Counterplot. 156 
 
 which I knew he dared not disobey, I opened upon 
 her by accusing her of insincerity in the professions 
 of friendship she had so often made to me. 
 " How ?" she inquired. 
 
 " By permitting any one but myself to attend a 
 person in whom you take an interest, unless indeed'^ — 
 and I bowed with humihty — ''you distrusted my abil- 
 ity to be of any service," 
 
 '' So far from that, Doctor, it was only because I 
 knew that your time was so well and profitably em- 
 ployed in your extensive practice, it would have been 
 unkind in me to have asked your attendance upon a 
 patient who has nothing to render but thanks in 
 return." 
 
 " I should have been paid in the feeling that I had 
 served you," I replied ; but the lie almost cnoked me. 
 
 " Come, come. Doctor, no compliments here, if you 
 please," and she looked any thing but displeased. 
 " How do you find John ? and how did you come to 
 be here at all ?" she asked, in a low voice. 
 
 " Oh, he is getting on slowly," I answered, in the 
 same tone, determined that I would finish my business 
 that day; for delays would very likely prove dangerous, 
 now I had her to deal with. " As to how I am here, 
 Doctor D. was somewhat alarmed, and fearing he did 
 not fully understand the case, sent for me in consulta- 
 
156 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 tion. He is out of town, for a few days, and I am 
 here as his substitute ; I hope you feel that he is safe 
 in my hands." 
 
 " Perfectly," she replied ; "we have had so many 
 evidences of your skill, how could I doubt it ?" and I 
 bowed to the compliment — not daring to trust myself 
 with any more words than were necessary, for I well 
 knew the desperate character of the game I was 
 playing. 
 
 After a few common-place remarks to me, and a 
 few words of encouragement to John, she took her 
 leave, insisting that I should make an early call, 
 which I promised to do. 
 
 Almost immediately after her departure — so soon, 
 indeed, I dreaded lest she had seen him enter — my 
 
 friend D entered ; and giving him a private sign, 
 
 which he understood, we approached the bedside of 
 the patient, and after a long examination and many 
 whispers, we retired with awfully solemn faces into 
 the next apartment. 
 
 Briefly, I made known to him my meeting with 
 Mrs. Evarts, and the necessity for instant action, ere 
 we were thwarted by her ; and having received his 
 assent, we returned to the patient with faces long 
 enough to have frightened a healthy man. 
 
 "Now, John," said D , taking his pulse, "tell 
 
Plot and Counterplot. 151 
 
 us the truth — have you obeyed our directions 
 implicitly ?" 
 
 "I am sure I have," he said, trembling like an 
 aspen leaf, and the cold sweat starting at every pore. 
 
 " Was the medicine given every hour last night, as 
 I directed ?" he asked, turning to his wife, who stood 
 behind him, pale and trembhng. 
 
 "'No, Doctor, I would not wake him up, he was 
 sleeping so nicely, and he has not had any from ten 
 o'clock last night until near daylight." 
 
 "Just as I feared," he said, turning to me with a 
 look of the most profound anxiety ; "I am sure I 
 was very particular in the directions." 
 
 "Shm'e, and, Doctor," she fau'ly howled, ''you 
 wouldn't — " 
 
 " Hold your tongue — see how you frighten your 
 husband," I said, for John turned such an ashy pale- 
 ness, and his lips grew so colorless, I was really afraid 
 he would die on the spot. 
 
 Beckoning to my friend, D and I stepped 
 
 aside, where we pretended to whisper very mysteri- 
 ously, and, approaching the bed again, I said : 
 
 "John, your failure to follow our directions may 
 prove very serious. There, don't be frightened, man," 
 I said, seeing that he was fau-ly gasping for breath ; 
 
158 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " I do not say that there is any immediate danger, 
 but you are a very sick man." 
 
 With a crroan which ought to have made me repent 
 of my cruelty, and which would, if Cora Marvin had 
 not just then risen up before me, he drew the bed- 
 clothes over his head, and for an instant lay so mo- 
 tionless, I feared he had actually died of fright. 
 
 In an instant, he threw them off, and half rising in 
 bed, raised his clasped hands, and with an expression 
 of terror and anguish, exclaimed — " Oh, Doctor, 
 Doctor — save me ; you can, you know you can ; 
 don't let me die." 
 
 " There, there— lie down," said D , forcing him 
 
 gently on the pillow ; don't get so excited — we 
 will do all we can. Doctor S. has told you there is 
 no immediate danger, but you must be careful, and 
 not get so excited. You know that every man must 
 die once, and if there is any thing you wish to arrange, 
 it is well enough to do it. Mind, I repeat there is 
 not any immediate danger, provided our directions 
 are implicitly obeyed," and turning to me, I assented, 
 of course. 
 
 " But you must remain perfectly quiet, and place 
 entire confidence in us." 
 
 John listened to us with an expression of wildness, 
 which under other circumstances would have been 
 
Plot and Counterplot. 159 
 
 ludicrous, but which was really painful to behold ; 
 and gazing at us alternately with doubting looks, 
 both at the same instant caught the idea that he was 
 debating within himself whether or not to make a 
 clean breast of it, when seeing my chance, I said — 
 
 Now, John, I want to ask you one question, and 
 you must tell me the truth, for I am convinced you 
 know all about it. What has become of Mr. Evarts' 
 daughter. Miss Cora ?" 
 
 As God is my judge, I do not know." 
 " Yes, but you do know how she came to leave her 
 father's house — I know that much, and I know that 
 you had a hand in it. I know there was a plot to 
 ruin that poor girl, and that you aided in it. I know 
 enough, John, if you do recover, to send you where 
 you would be very sorry to go. Ilsow, tell us the 
 truth, for surely you would not dare to die with such 
 a sin upon your soul — tell us the whole truth, and 
 we pledge ourselves that no harm shall ever come to 
 you. Surely Cora never harmed or injured you 
 
 "Indeed indeed, she never did," he said, dashing 
 away the tears which my words had called to his 
 eyes. " She was the sweetest and best girl that ever 
 lived." 
 
 How could you then, tell such infamous lies 
 about her. How could you, John ?" 
 
160 
 
 The vS e c o n d ]M a r r i a g e 
 
 ** Oh ! it was wrong — I know it was wrong. It 
 was wicked, but God knows I have sorrowed for it. 
 It was all through Mrs. Evarts." 
 
 A glance of intelligence passed between the Doctor 
 and myself, but he went on without noticing it. **It 
 was indeed all through her." 
 
 " Come, John, tell us all about it. Don't be 
 afraid of her. She cannot harm you, if she dare, and 
 I pledge you my word of honor to screen you from 
 any thing she may say or do." 
 
 "You won't let me die, will you, gentlemen? 
 You will cure me, won't you ?" he asked, in a tone 
 struggling between the agony of fear, and half-re- 
 newed hope. 
 
 " John, we will do our very best. I tell you again 
 there is no immediate danger, and I have no doubt 
 of your recovery if you will keep perfectly quiet and 
 follow our directions. We thought it our duty to 
 tell you what we did, but really there is no cause 
 now for such alarm." 
 
 This re-assured him, and closing his eyes and clasp- 
 ing his hands, he lay quiet for a few moments, and 
 then beckoning us to be seated, he made a clean 
 breast of it mdeed, confirming all my suspicions as to 
 Mrs. Evarts' conduct throughout. 
 
 With my consent, Dr. D. took down his statement 
 
Plot and Counterplot. 
 
 161 
 
 in writing, and I do not know as I ever experienced 
 such a thrill of exquisite pleasure as when I placed 
 my name beneath my friend's, as a witness to his sig- 
 nature, for it was the realization of my long-cherished 
 hopes, and insured a perfect triumph over her ene- 
 mies for Cora Marvin. 
 
CHAPTER XY. 
 
 ANOTHER DISCOVERY. 
 
 " Now then, Tom," said my friend, as we left the 
 house, " what is your next move ? Fate and Provi- 
 dence have wonderfully befriended you in this mat- 
 ter." 
 
 " First, my friend, I will thank you for the kind- 
 ness you have displayed throughout in this affair, for 
 without your assistance I could not have accomplished 
 thus much. Next, I shall go to Mrs. Marvin's, and 
 give her at least an inkling of what has been going 
 on, and what she may expect. It will not do to tell 
 her too much at once, for I would not for the world 
 excite hopes which I may be unable to realize. 
 Would you like to go with me — you have earned a 
 fair share of the pleasure I anticipate." 
 
 " Not now — some other time. My presence may 
 be necessary hereafter, and it will be as well for me 
 not to have known too much. It is better, I think, 
 that she should not see me at all, at present." 
 
 " I believe you are right," I said, though I knew 
 
Another Discovery. 
 
 163 
 
 not why. " Now I must leave you. I will meet 
 you at John's to-morrow." 
 
 ''^so, you won't. You will take tea with me to- 
 night, for I want to hear how the news you bring is 
 received " 
 
 " As you say," and I left him. 
 
 I was not long in reaching Mrs. Marvin's, and my 
 excited manner and flushed cheeks told her that 
 something unusual had occurred. In truth, my de- 
 light was too great for concealment, and after the 
 first salutations, Clarence having established himself 
 in his accustomed quarters on my knee, she said : 
 
 "Something has occurred to-day, Doctor, which 
 seems to give you great pleasure. You look so 
 happy, I really almost feel so myself. I do not 
 know how, or why it is, but ever since your last visit 
 I have had an unusual flow of spirits. It seemed as 
 if I could not repress them ; my heart has been un- 
 accountably light. Who knows but my husband 
 will be home soon, and then my troubles will be 
 over." 
 
 " Who knows, indeed," I said, almost blurting out 
 the object of my visit, and blushing to think how 
 little her husband's presence was connected with my 
 present happiness ; " but suppose we do not wait for 
 his arrival to end your troubles ?" 
 
164 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " Doctor," she said, her countenance changing 
 suddenly to an expression of doubt, " you are not 
 trifling with me ? you have not been in the habit of 
 doing so." 
 
 " Well, I won't begin now, Mrs. Marvin, you 
 may be assured ; could you receive some good news, 
 without ?" 
 
 " Dear Doctor, don't keep me in suspense," she 
 said, not permittmg me to finish my sentence ; " has 
 my father sent for me, and is he convinced of my 
 innocence ?" 
 
 "He has not sent for you, Mrs. Marvin, but he will 
 very do it soon, or I am a poor judge of human 
 nature ; and as for the rest, I can pledge my word 
 that he will be soon as entirely convinced of your 
 innocence, as I have been from the first." 
 
 " God grant it," she said, raising her eyes heaven- 
 ward. 
 
 " There, read that ;" and I handed to her the 
 statement just received from John. 
 
 With moistened eyes and trembling hands she 
 opened the paper, and a glance at the first few hues 
 were all that were needed to tell her the contents. 
 She did not wait to finish its perusal, but extending 
 both hands to me, with a countenance fairly beaming 
 with happiness, she exclaimed, how can I thank 
 
Another Discovery. 
 
 165 
 
 you, my kind, my noble friend, for your generous 
 sympathy and aid." 
 
 I did not come here for your thanks, and don't 
 want them until I have finished my work. All I 
 want of you is to dry your eyes, and obey my 
 directions for the future, no matter what they may 
 be." 
 
 " Could I do otherwise. Doctor," she said, still 
 retaining my hands, and pressing them with a fervor 
 which, while it spoke her gratitude, sent the blood 
 tingling to the ends of my fingers, " how can I repay 
 such noble, generous kindness to a poor persecuted 
 woman ?" 
 
 " By being happy, and trusting to me for guidance, 
 until I trust you to walk alone." 
 
 " But I have not half done yet ;" and I proceeded 
 to recount rapidly, but briefly, what I had heard 
 from Dinah. 
 
 " My poor abused and deceived father," she said, 
 as I concluded, " how will he receive this extraordi- 
 nary disclosure, and he so proud ? But is this all 
 truth ? is there room for doubt ?" 
 
 " Not a particle. I have every thing so arranged, 
 that when the proper time comes, I can overwhelm 
 her so suddenly with proof, she wUl not dare even to 
 raise her voice in her own defence." 
 
166 
 
 The Second Marriage 
 
 " But more yet. Your quondam lover, Barton ; I 
 have a great mind to let him finish his own work, and 
 his career will end in Sing Sing." 
 Why, Doctor, more marvels ?" 
 
 " Yes, Madam, more marvels ; but no matter for 
 him now ; you don't care much for him, and you will 
 hear all about him in due season." 
 
 " Is he renlly cousin to Martha ?" 
 
 " No more than you are mine. He knows as 
 much about Mrs. Evarts and Mattie as Dinah does, 
 and is only playing a deep game to deceive your 
 father. But it requires two to play at his game, and 
 I hold the leading trumps. Oh, Madam, you will 
 hear a grand explosion yet, when I touch the match 
 to the magazine. But I have one thing yet to ac- 
 complish, and that is with Julia ; she is as much like 
 her mistress as pea is like pea, and she knows too 
 much for me, I am afraid. However, with this 
 statement of John to back me, I will try, if I can 
 only get a chance to see her." 
 
 " But you must not anticipate too much. I have 
 told you more than I ought, though I could not resist 
 the temptation of seeing you smile again." 
 
 " Dear, kind friend," she said, and my equanimity 
 was entirely upset, when she threw herself on my 
 
 / 
 
Another Discovery. 167 
 
 neck, shedding tears of happiness, and sobbmg as if 
 her heart would break. 
 
 To say that I was entirely unmoved would be un- 
 true. I wept myself, without knowing why, and at 
 length feehng that if I stayed much longer I might 
 say something for which I might have to repent in 
 sackcloth and ashes, I placed her gently on a chair, 
 and bidding her be of good cheer, I took my leave, 
 with a heart as hght and gay as though I had really 
 achieved something to be proud of. 
 
 That same eveniog saw me at Mrs. Evarts', and 
 while waiting in the parlor for the ladies to come 
 down, J ulia brought in the shade to put over the gas- 
 light which hung over the centre-table. 
 
 "Julia," I said, hastily, " I have a letter to you, 
 from John ; will you come to my office in the morn- 
 ing, and get it ? He wanted me to give it to you 
 without any one knowing it." 
 
 Her face turned crimson, and she evinced a con- 
 fusion, which told me too truly of her comphcity 
 with him, but I did not give any sign that I observed 
 her. 
 
 " I wonder what he can have to say to me ? Yes, 
 I will come." 
 
 " Be there at nine o'clock." 
 I will," she said ; and fortunately, the entrance 
 
168 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 of the ladies at that moment, deprived her of the op- 
 portunity of asking any questions. I knew she would 
 come, for I saw that her curiosity was aroused. 
 
 The whole family, including Mr. Barton, were 
 assembled on that evening, and I was in such an un- 
 usual flow of spirits, as to attract the notice of all ; 
 and Mattie inquired, with what slie meant to be a 
 very naive look, if I had " popped the question yet ?" 
 Of course, I answered in the same strain ; and when 
 I left the house, all declared they had never passed 
 a more delightful evening. 
 
 " After a calm comes a storm," I said to myself, 
 as I left the house, fully convinced that when I 
 next entered it, it should be in triumph, and with 
 Cora Marvin by my side. 
 
 The next morning, prompt at the hour, Julia kept 
 her promise ; and as she entered, hurriedly, as if she 
 had stolen ofif, she said, throwing up her veil, " Well, 
 Doctor, here I am." 
 
 " I am very glad to see you, Julia," was my reply ; 
 and I told the truth, for she could furnish the last 
 link in the chain of evidence to convict her mistress 
 of her infamy. 
 
 Locking the door, as well to prevent her exit, as 
 the intrusion of any other person, I approached her 
 with threatening looks, and holding up John's confes- 
 
Another Discovery. 169 
 
 sion, I said sternly, while she looked at me, actually 
 without moving a muscle of her countenance, " Now, 
 JuUa, I have no desire to send a fine, smart woman 
 like yourself, to Sing-Sing, but so sure as you do not 
 make a frank and full confession of all you know 
 about Cora Evarts, so sure you will be there in less 
 than a r^onth." 
 
 At the mention of Sing-Sing, she did 'change color, 
 almost imperceptibly, but recovering instantly her 
 self-possession, she said, with the most wonderful non- 
 chalance — 
 
 Oh, if that's what you wanted to see me about. 
 Doctor, all I have got to say is, that you have 
 missed your mark. I am ready to go as soon as you 
 choose to send me, and you always know where to 
 find me.'' 
 
 The impudence — the overpowering assurance of 
 the woman, fairly staggered me ; but I knew it was 
 my last chance, and I was determined to lose nothing 
 through my weakness or folly. 
 
 Opening, therefore, the statement which I held in 
 my hand, I approached her, and said, sternly, Xow, 
 Juha, you may put on as many airs as you Uke, 
 and you may look as innocent as you choose, but I 
 am not to be frightened by one nor deceived by the 
 other, and this paper will send you to Sing-Sing, as 
 8 
 
no The Second Marriage. 
 
 sure as you stand there. John, who is, perhaps, 
 dying, has made a full confession of his villainy and 
 lies concerning Mrs. Evarts' daughter. Here is his 
 statement, and he declares that you were not only 
 fully acquainted wiih every thing, but was his accom- 
 plice from first to last, and like him, paid by Mrs. 
 Evarts." 
 
 " That is plain speaking," she said, with a gravity 
 perfectly wonderful ; "go on. Doctor." 
 
 " Now, I give you your choice," I said, half- 
 frightened lest I should have been deceived after all, 
 ''a full confession or Sing-Sing." 
 
 " I tell you what. Doctor," she said, with flashing 
 eyes, " you are wasting your time with me. If John 
 has chosen to make up a parcel of lies to please you, 
 I shan't help him out, I can tell you — I think too 
 much of myself for that." 
 
 " Well, Julia," I said, determined now to try the 
 coup-de-grdce, I am so thoroughly convinced of your 
 connection with the plot to drive Cora from her 
 home, I shall not let it drop until you have proved 
 your innocence. I will send for an officer, and we 
 will go to the Tombs together ; the magistrate will ex- 
 amine into the matter, and if you are innocent, I will 
 bear the consequences ;" and seatmg myself, I penned 
 a note, as if writing for an officer. 
 
Another Discovery. 171 
 
 " You dare not do it/' she said, but not so fiercely 
 as before. 
 
 " I will do it, and take all the risks myself." 
 " Let me read that paper." 
 
 " I will read it to you ; I am rather afraid to trust 
 it in your hands, as John might die, and — " 
 
 " Read it yourself," she said, impetuously interrupt- 
 ing me. And I read it from first to last, not omitting 
 to add that it was attested by two credible witnesses. 
 
 ''Now, then, tell me exactly what you want of me.'' 
 
 " Tell me if that is not every word truth." 
 
 '' Suppose I don't choose to, what then ?" 
 
 " You have heard what I said before." 
 
 " You want me to sign that paper ?" 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Do you believe it is true ?" 
 " I know it is." 
 
 '' Will you pledge yourself to bear me harmless ?" 
 
 " On my honor, I will." » 
 
 " Then I will sign it, too, for every word is true ; 
 but how did you find it out ?" 
 
 "That is a matter of no consequence now ; you 
 will learn that in good season. You will sign it, then ?" 
 
 " I will." 
 
 "Wont there be a precious time," she said, with a 
 low chuckle, while I was wiiting an acknowledgement 
 
172 The Second Marriage. 
 
 at the bottom of the page, for her signature ; "no 
 matter — I've kept my word, so far, and I wont go to 
 prison for her or anybody else. Come, Doctor, let 
 me sign it." 
 
 " One moment, Juha," and ringing a bell, I de- 
 spatched a servant for my neighbor, Mr. J , who 
 
 followed close on her heels. 
 
 " Now, Julia, sign that," I said ; " and, Mr. J , 
 
 please witness her signature, to oblige me." 
 
 Hastily reading what I had written, she signed it 
 without any hesitation, and it was duly witnessed by 
 Mr. J , whom I thanked for his attention. 
 
 "Now, Julia," said I, when we were alone, "I 
 suppose I need hardly caution you against saying 
 any thing to the family, and I emphasized the word." 
 
 " Trust me for that," she said, with a low laugh — 
 " she'll hear of it soon enough, I'll warrant, without 
 me ; I shan't say a word, I promise you ; I don't 
 bear her any special love. True, she paid me well 
 enough, but not enough to make up for Sing-Sing." 
 
 "That's all, Julia?" 
 
 " You wont forget your promise to me. Doctor ?" 
 
 "Never fear — Mrs. Evarts won't have power to 
 harm any one much longer, and I promise no one 
 else has any desire to. Will Mr. Barton be there, 
 as usual, to-day or to-morrow ?" 
 
Another Discovery. 173 
 
 ''Yes, every day — and all night, too, for all I 
 know," she answered, rather spitefully. 
 
 " Well, that will do, Juha ; I am much obliged to 
 you for your candor." 
 
 "You need not be," she said, "I never did it of 
 my own accord ; you have been mighty sharp to get 
 ahead of that woman, but I guess you've done it. So 
 good morning, Doctor, and success to you." 
 
 As my evidence was now completed, it was time to 
 open my batteries ; and my first care was to request 
 that Mr. Evarts would favor me with a call that 
 evening, on business of importance. Accordingly, I 
 despatched a note to his store, marked private, 
 well knowing that if sent to the house, it would have 
 been opened by his wife, whose suspicions would have 
 been instantly aroused, and who might possibly have 
 thwarted all my plans. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FATHER AND DAUGHTER. 
 
 I WAS not deceived in my conviction that Mr. 
 Evarts would comply with my request, for when I 
 reached my office, late in the afternoon, I found him 
 seated there, reading one of my medical works. 
 
 " Well, Doctor, here I am, you see. Now, what 
 is it so private, which requires my attendance on your 
 medical highness ?" 
 
 " Keep your seat, Mr. Evarts," I said, for he had 
 risen at my entrance. " Are you prepared to hear — " 
 
 " Good God ! is she dead he exclaimed, show- 
 ing at once the current of his thoughts and his 
 anxiety respecting his daughter, and he sprang 
 towards me, almost gasping for breath ; then, as if 
 ashamed of having exhibited so much emotion, he 
 sank back into his chair, with a sort of sullen obstin- 
 acy, as if determined not to be so moved again. 
 
 " Far from it. She is in the enjoyment of excel- 
 lent health, and equally good spirits, and, unless I am 
 very much mistaken, in less than an hour from this 
 
Father and Daughter. 
 
 115 
 
 time you will have her hanging on your neck, shedding 
 tears of joy. 
 
 " Sir — Doctor — do you mean to insult me ? Do 
 you know what you are saying ? Do you know you 
 are speaking on a forbidden topic ?" 
 
 " Perfectly, and that is the reason I took the 
 liberty of sending for you here, where we might con- 
 verse in private. I have only spoken the truth." 
 
 ''Now, Mr. Evarts, curb your temper," I con- 
 tinued, calmly but earnestly, " don't get excited, but 
 listen to me patiently, and when I have done, you 
 may say or do just what you choose." 
 
 " You remember," I proceeded, " that one day 
 you asked me what I thought of your daughter, and 
 I was about to reply that I believed her to be tlie 
 victim of an infamous plot, when you checked me, 
 and refused to hear any more." 
 
 I remember," he replied, coldly, as if he did not 
 care to hear it repeated now ; ''I hope you are not 
 going to — " 
 
 " There you go — impatient before I have begun. 
 Now, Mr. Evarts, you must hear me — I not only 
 wish to repeat it, but to prove it by such incon- • 
 testible evidence, you dare not disbelieve me if you 
 would." 
 
 " You speak earnestly. Doctor." 
 
1T6 The Second ^Marriage. 
 
 " 1 am very earnest. You met your present wife 
 in Savannab, at a boarding-house ?" 
 I did." 
 
 " You knew nothing of her antecedents at all ?" 
 
 " I never made any special inquiries. I found her 
 an inteUigent, well-informed, polished lady — moving 
 in the same circle with myself and daughter, and as 
 I was satisfied on acquaintance that she would make 
 an excellent wife, and do honor to my name, I mar- 
 ried her. I hope. Doctor, you will be careful when 
 you speak of her, and not forget that she is my wife, 
 and has been your friend." 
 
 " Suppose, Mr. Evarts, I prove to you that she is 
 not your wife at all." 
 
 Sir — su'," and he fairly gasped for breath, " what 
 are you saying ? Do you know. Doctor, to whom 
 you are speaking ?" 
 
 " Suppose that I prove to you," I continued, with- 
 out noticing his remark — "mind, Mr. Evarts, I say 
 prove to you, that her first husband is Uving — is an 
 inmate of a prison, where he has been for seven years, 
 and where he must end his days, for he was sen- 
 tenced to imprisonment for life for a foul and cruel 
 murder, which was miscalled manslaughter. Suppose 
 I prove that, Mr. Evarts ?" 
 
 He could not make any reply. His face was ashy 
 
'Father and Daughter. 177 
 
 pale, and his lips moved tremulously, but no sound 
 came forth. 
 
 Suppose I show you that this Barton, this pre- 
 tended nephew, is no more a relation than I am, but 
 the blind used by her to entrap others into the arms 
 of Mattie ?" 
 
 " Go on, Doctor," he found voice to utter, but so 
 feebly I could hardly hear him. 
 
 " Suppose I prove that he is one of the basest and 
 most infamous of villains — that he was married two 
 years ago to a young, innocent, and artless girl, 
 whom he deserted after the most cruel abuse, pre- 
 tending that his marriage was a sham ; and suppose 
 I prove that marriage incontrovertibly." 
 
 " Suppose I prove to you," and as I spoke I took 
 from my pocket the statement acknowledged by John 
 and Julia, " that she suborned two of your servants 
 to perjure themselves against Cora. That every 
 word spoken against that girl was a vile, infamous 
 lie, concocted between Mrs. Evarts, Barton, and 
 Mattie, to drive her from your house, and secure her 
 fortune for themselves ?" 
 
 Mr. Evarts made no reply, but holding his face in 
 his hands, groaned aloud. 
 
 "This paper, Mr. Evarts," I continued, " contains 
 the statement of those servants, duly witnessed, and 
 8* 
 
Its The Second Marriage. 
 
 in addition to this, I have enough to overwhelm the 
 whole of them," and I tendered it to him. 
 
 " Read it, Doctor," he said, shaking his head, " I 
 cannot," and I saw indeed that he could not, for his 
 eyes were blinded with fast falling tears. 
 
 Slowly and deliberately I read it through, even to 
 the names of the witnesses, and as I folded it up he 
 said, again laying his face in his hands, the tears 
 forcing themselves through his clasped fingers — " my 
 poor, dear, darling Cora, how have you been abused 
 and slandered ? What reparation can I make ?" 
 
 " You remember, Mr. Evarts, the morning you 
 called on me with the fifty dollars for your daughter?" 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Well, your wife had not been out of my office 
 five minutes, when you entered it. She came there 
 to give me her version of the affair, and I made up 
 my mind then, that every word she had told me was 
 a lie — a black-hearted, wilful, mahgnant lie. I saw 
 Cora that very evening, and having heard from her 
 own lips, the story of her wrongs and yours, I re- 
 solved that I w^ould bring the perpetrators to the 
 Ught. 
 
 " Providence has befriended me, and some of the 
 discoveries I have made have seemed almost miracu 
 lous. But I have done it. I am prepared at everv 
 
Father and Daughter. 179 
 
 point, and am ready, as soon as you say the word, to 
 commence proceedings." 
 
 " You surely don't mean to go to law, Doctor," 
 lie said, his face flushing with shame at the bare 
 possibihty of such an exposure of his domestic af- 
 fairs. 
 
 " Oh, no ; it won't need the aid of the law to bring 
 her to terms. I mean to make known to her, and 
 her precious partners, the discoveries I have made." 
 
 Doctor," he said, rising, and grasping my hand, 
 while his noble form actually dilated with emotion, ' ' I 
 do not know, and at present will not inquire how you 
 became possessed of these extraordinary secrets. My 
 heart tells me that every word you utter is truth. I 
 honor and appreciate your motives, and can only say 
 now, from my inmost heart, I am grateful to you. 
 But you are certain — there can be no doubt as to the 
 entire accuracy of all you have learned ?" 
 
 Not a shadow," I said, and I well knew what he 
 meant by the emphasis on all, for he was a proud, 
 but not a haughty man — proud of his name, for it 
 had always been connected with honor and integrity; 
 proud of his character, for it had ranked with the 
 highest and best, and proud of the position he held 
 in society — a position won by a lifetime of patient 
 industry and stern integrity, and what he had heard 
 
180 The Second Marriage. 
 
 concerning his wife, was well calculated to wound bim 
 in the most tender point 
 
 " One thing more, Mr. Evarts, and I have finished. 
 From first to last, I have been actuated by the sole 
 desire to serve your daughter, with whom, as you have 
 heard, I became acquainted solely through chance, 
 but whom I learned to honor and esteem from the 
 first ; and when I had heard her narrative, I deter- 
 mined, not only for her sake, to get at the truth, but 
 for yours ; for I could not but perceive how unhappy 
 you were, and I was under too many obligations to 
 you not to desire to serve you, if it were within my 
 power." 
 
 " I have accomplished my end, and I pledge you 
 my word as a gentleman, that after you shall have 
 arranged matters to your satisfaction, I will never by 
 any act or word, give you reason to believe that I 
 hold it in my remembrance. I would not recall any 
 thing which must be so painful to you." 
 
 " That is more, much more kindness than I deserve 
 at your hands. But I must go now ; good night. 
 Come around to-morrow evening, Doctor." 
 
 " And where are you going in such haste ? I have 
 not told you all, yet." 
 
 " I don't want to hear any more ; I have heard 
 quite enough to satisfy me that I have been duped, 
 
Father and Daughter. 181 
 
 deceived and betrayed, and that I have been a most 
 unnatural parent. I am going to take my daughter 
 to her own house — too my home ; for, thank God, 
 if I really know myself, she has never left my 
 heart." 
 
 " You don't know where to find her, I am afraid, 
 do you ?" 
 
 " That is true, Doctor, I quite forgot that, but you 
 wiU tell me ?" 
 
 ^ot until you give me your promise to do nothing 
 until I am ready. Why, ]\Ir. Evarts, you would 
 spoil every thing by such precipitancy." 
 
 " But, let me see her. Take me to her, and let 
 me ask her pardon on my knees, for my injustice. 
 Oh, Cora, my own darling, my treasured child, shall 
 I see you again ?" and he clasped his hands with an 
 expression of happiness, such as had been a stranger 
 to his face for many a weary month. 
 
 " You promise to do nothing without my as- 
 sent ?" 
 
 " Faithfully, Doctor," he said, grasping my hand ; 
 I am not too old to obey orders, though I am too 
 happy to wish to." 
 
 And you won't make any attempt to remove her 
 until every thing is prepared ?" 
 
 Prepared ! Why, Su:, is it not my house ? Is 
 
182 The Second Marriage. 
 
 slie Dot my daughter, and is not my house her home ? 
 Ah, I forgot," he said, checking liimself. "Go on, 
 Doctor, and do with me as you choose. My turn 
 will come in good time." 
 
 In another moment we were in the street, and old 
 as was Mr. Evarts, I had difficulty to keep up with 
 him, so eager was he, and so impatient to see his 
 child. 
 
 It did not take us long to reach her residence at 
 the pace led by him, and opening the front door, 
 he ex-claimed, as he entered the dirty, uncarpeted 
 hall," 
 
 And is this the place for my daughter — for my 
 Cora ?" 
 
 As we ascended the stairs leading to the room, I 
 could hear his hard breathing behind me, and I was 
 almost fearful that the excitement would be too much 
 for him. 
 
 As w^e reached the landing, Mrs. Marvin opened 
 the door, saying at the same time, "Ah, Doctor, is 
 that you ? I know your step, walk in," and with- 
 out waiting to see me, she re-entered her room, 
 standing near the door to give me, her accustomed 
 greeting. 
 
 At the sound of his daughter's voice, Mr. Evarts 
 trembled so excessively, he could scarcely stand, and 
 
Father and Daughter. 183 
 
 seizing my arm for support, he suffered me to lead 
 him- on. 
 
 "Walk in, Doctor," she said with her wonted 
 smile, still not noticing that I was accompanied, but 
 before I had time to return her salutation, her father 
 pushed me aside, and rushing in, exclaimed, as he 
 opened his arms to embrace her, ''Cora — my dar- 
 ling, my treasure — my own dear Cora." 
 
 Gazing wildly at him for an instant, as if doubting 
 her own senses, she uttered a loud scream of joy, and 
 with a spring was on his bosom, her arms clasped 
 around his neck, her tears fairly raining upon his 
 shoulders. 
 
 In strict justice, I ought not to have been present 
 at such a meeting ; but I had fairly earned my share 
 of the happiness I had been the means of bestowing, 
 and I was afraid Mr. Evarts, in his impulsiveness, 
 might endanger all my schemes by insisting on taking 
 his daughter at once home. So I was there, and I 
 believe I wept as much as either of them, for I was 
 very happy too. 
 
 "Doctor," said Mrs. Marvin, rising from her 
 father's bosom, and while he held one hand, gazing at 
 her with looks of the deepest love and sorrow, she 
 extended the other to me, which I took, of course, 
 
184 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " how can I ever — how can we ever repay you ? Can 
 I ever sufficiently thank you 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Marvin, you can," I replied, wiping 
 my own eyes, which were so blinded I could scarcely 
 distinguish even Cora, " by commanding your father 
 to obey me ; I see, even now, symptoms of rebellion." 
 And I did, for he was gazing about her poorly fur- 
 nished and uncomfortable room, with looks of the 
 most intense commiseration. 
 
 " You need not look so, Mr. Evarts ; I understand 
 you perfectly, I know what you mean, but she must 
 remain here for to-night, at least." 
 
 Doctor, may God bless you," was all he could 
 say, for the father's heart was too full for many 
 words ; "do with me as you will." 
 
 " Darling," he said to Cora, who was again close 
 by his side, " I have heard marvellous things from 
 our friend to-night ; we owe to him more than even 
 our lives could repay ; I am sure we will never forget 
 it. I wanted to take you home this very night, but 
 this tyrant is obstinate, and positively forbids it," 
 and he shook his fist at me in a very menacing man- 
 ner, " but I will pay him off one of these days, and I 
 must go without you ; but how can I receive and treat 
 those who have so deeply wronged and injured us ?" 
 
Father and Daughter. 185 
 
 " Mr. Evarts, I have played the hypocrite for 
 many a month m your house and for your sakes ; 
 please practice a little patience one night to obhge 
 me, and serve your daughter. But I have a pa- 
 tient near here, who must be seen to-night ; I will 
 be back in about an hour." 
 
 Mrs. Marvin thanked me with a look which told 
 me she knew all about my patient, and Mr. Evarts 
 made no objection ; so cautionmg Cora against being 
 led astray by her father, I left them to their own 
 happiness. 
 
 When I returned, they were deeply engrossed in 
 conversation, and that I had been the subject of at 
 least a portion of it, was evidenced by their rising 
 and extending each a hand to me. 
 
 Cora looked at me an instant with an expression 
 which a life-time will not efface, then snatching her 
 hand from her father, who still held it, she threw 
 herself on my neck, sobbing and weeping as if her 
 heart was surcharged with too much joy. 
 
 It is useless to attempt a detail of the conversation 
 which occurred during the next hour. 
 
 Cora was seated next to me, and her soft blue 
 eyes thanked me so often and so warmly, I almost 
 wished I had it all to do over again. 
 
186 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 But every tiling must have an end ; and when I 
 thought it time for Mr. Evarts to be going, I fairly 
 dragged him off in spite of his remonstrances and 
 vows that he would "pay me off yet." 
 
 As we left the house together, I renewed my 
 earnest request that he would not by word, deed, or 
 manner, give any intimation that he had heard any 
 thing to alter his feelings towards his wife and her 
 family, for, as I remarked, it might put her upon her 
 guard ; she might leave the city, and give us an 
 infinity of trouble," 
 
 He promised, of course, to be guarded in every 
 thing, for he had quite as much at stake as myself, 
 and fully coinciding with the truth of that remark, I 
 had no more to urge. 
 
 " It will be a hard task. Doctor," he said, " to 
 pretend respect, much less affection for one who has 
 deceived me so infamously, and brought such shame 
 upon me, but for Cora's sake, I can do almost any 
 thing." 
 
 I left him at his own door, fully persuaded that he 
 would keep his promise, and at once set about 
 making my preparations for the morrow. 
 
 To that end, I called on Dr. D , and narrated 
 
 to him the events of the day, at which he seemed 
 
Father and Daughter. 181 
 
 almost as much delighted as myself, and with me, an- 
 ticipated something more than mere pleasure in con- 
 fronting and denouncing the vile woman, through 
 whose acts such wretchedness and suffering had been 
 entailed. 
 
CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 HOME AGAIN. 
 
 Doctor D and myself met by appointiiient at 
 
 an early hour, at the bedside of John, whom we 
 found, as indeed we knew we should, rapidly improv- 
 ing ; for having got over his fright, his disease was 
 easily managed. 
 
 The poor fellow had hardly words to express his 
 gratitude to us for our attention, to which, backed 
 by our skill, he attributed his recovery, which we 
 now promised him as certain. 
 
 After congratulating hun upon his rapid improve- 
 ment, I made known to him that Julia had joined 
 him in his confession ; and when I told him that I 
 intended on that very day to disclose all I had learned, 
 and reinstate Miss Cora (as he still called her) in her 
 rights, he seemed unaffectedly gratified. 
 
 Having finished our visit there, we returned to 
 
 Dr. D 's, where a carriage having been ordered, 
 
 we took Dinah with us, and proceeded at once to 
 Mrs. Marvins'. 
 
Home Again. 189 
 
 I left Dr. D and DiDah in the coach while I 
 
 ran up stairs, where I found Mr. Evarts with his 
 daughter, and Clarence occupying his place on his 
 grandfather's knee. ♦ 
 
 Both had evidently been weeping, for their eyes 
 were red and swollen ; but I well knew they were 
 tears of joy, and I almost envied the happiness which 
 had been theirs after that interview. 
 
 " I have a friend in the carriage at the door," I 
 said, after the first warm greeting, to whom we 
 are all much indebted ; may I bring him up ?" 
 
 " Of course," they answered, in the same breath, 
 and going to the window, I raised it, and beckoned 
 for my friend to come up. 
 
 When I introduced him as one to whom, under 
 Providence, I was indebted for the success which had 
 attended my efforts to serve them, and who had con- 
 stantly aided me with his counsel and friendship, he 
 was received with a warmth flowing from truly 
 grateful hearts, and I could see by the looks of 
 admiration he cast upon Cora, that he was not at 
 all surprised at the interest I had manifested for 
 her. 
 
 " Come, Doctor," said Mr. Evarts, " when is the 
 performance to come off? you are the stage-mana« 
 ger, and the curtain can't rise until you give the 
 
190 The Second Marriage. 
 
 order. I must confess, ho]V'ever. that I am getting 
 very impatient." 
 
 " Let me see," I said, very leisurely pulling out 
 my watch, " I told Seaton to be there at ten. You 
 are sure Barton will be at home ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes ; I told Martha to keep him in the 
 house, as I wanted very much to see him before I 
 went down to the ofiQce." 
 
 " I hope that devil, George, won't get there be- 
 fore me," I half muttered. 
 
 " What's that you said ?" inquired Cora, placing 
 her hand on my arm ; " you said something about 
 devil." 
 
 " Only there will be the devil to pay if he is," I 
 said, mysteriously ; for, to tell the truth, I had re- 
 quested George Seaton (of whom more anon) to be 
 in waiting at ten o'clock, but on no account to enter 
 the house until I came, but I much feared least his 
 impetuosity would get the better of his discretion ; 
 for I was well assured, that if he chanced to get a 
 sight of Barton, my recognizances would be for- 
 feited, and Robert Barton would be half mur- 
 dered. 
 
 I therefore assented to a movement towards Mr. 
 Evarts' house, and conducted the party to the 
 coach. 
 
Home Again. 
 
 191 
 
 Mr. Evarts rather shrunk back as he saw Dinah, 
 but when I remarked that she was a "leading 
 actress," he said no more, and, having taken our 
 seats, the coach was driven off. 
 
 Not a word was spoken on the road to Mr. Evarts, 
 for the heart of each was too full for words at such 
 a time. 
 
 Cora lay upon her father's bosom, his arms in- 
 
 circlmg her, while Dinah, Dr. D , and myself 
 
 occupied the front seat, Clarence being tightly 
 . squeezed in between Cora and her father. 
 
 The coach has stopped, and we are at the door. 
 A life-time of anxiety is crowded into those few mo- 
 ments. Every heart beat tumultuously, and as the 
 driver opened the door to permit our egress, I could 
 see that Cora's eyes were filled with tears, while 
 her father, with a pale, stern face, ahnost dragged 
 her onward. 
 
CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 BROTHER AXD SISTER. 
 
 Turn we now, again, to Julia Seaton and her 
 friend. 
 
 I had, as it will be remembered, given Julia's ad- 
 dress to George, and he was not long in finding out 
 her residence. Without hesitation he pushed open the 
 front door, and knocking at the door of the first 
 apartment, inquired for Miss Barton. 
 
 " Up stairs — front room," and before the words 
 were fairly out of the speaker's mouth, he was up 
 stairs, and in the front room. 
 
 Juha and Helen were seated there, and a faint 
 scream betrayed their affright at the sudden appari- 
 tion of the tall, brawny-looking man who burst in 
 upon them unannounced. 
 
 They had no time for words, however, for with a 
 cry of joy, Julia sprang forward, and in an instant 
 was clasped in a pair of as honest arms as ever pro- 
 tected woman. 
 
Brother and Sister. 193 
 
 George — my George — my own dear brother 
 and Helen was pacified, for she had already begun 
 to dread some new adventure. 
 
 And after a few tears of joy, and a great many 
 embraces, Julia found time to say, that " this was 
 her own dear brother George," and Helen received 
 him as she ought to have received the brother of her 
 own dear Julia — with a smile, and a hearty shake 
 of the hand, and a cordial welcome. 
 
 What passed there, it is not my business to repeat. 
 The issue will be known in time. 
 
 On the same evening, while seated in leisurely 
 enjoyment of my Havana, George entered unan- 
 nounced, and throwing his hat on the sofa, advanced 
 towards me with outstretched hands, and a counten- 
 ance beaming with such joy and happiness, that, not- 
 withstanding my dread of his vice-like grasp, I gave 
 hun my own. 
 
 " Doctor," he said, you are a man from clew to 
 earing, and I love and honor you. I see through 
 it all now ; and if I ever forget you, or your kindness 
 
 "to JuUa " 
 
 " There, that will do, George," I said, releasing 
 my hands from his grasp, and backing away, lest he 
 should renew it, "I know all you want to say. I 
 hope you found Julia well, and all right." 
 
 9 
 
194 
 
 The Second Marriage. 
 
 " All right, Doctor," but if I could only get a few 
 minutes alone with that Barton — " 
 
 " Well, you can't," I said, interrupting him, " for 
 he is under my care ; and you should not if he was 
 able to be out, for you might spoil my game. Now 
 listen to me, and answer a few questions : 
 
 " You saw a young woman with your sister ?" 
 
 " Well, I did." 
 
 " How did you fancy her ? What did you think 
 of her ?" 
 
 " I didn't fancy her, because I did not look at her 
 enough to know her again, and I didn't think of her, 
 I was so busy with JuHa." 
 
 " I suppose Juha told you something about this 
 Barton ?" 
 
 " Not so much as I want to know. She and 
 Helen, as she called her, kept winking and bhnking 
 at each other whenever his name was mentioned, so 
 I rather guess there's something behind yet." 
 
 " Did you tell Juha about your meeting with 
 Barton, and the consequences ?" 
 
 " Of course I did ; and when I mentioned what a 
 pounding I gave him, she laughed and clapped her 
 hands in perfect dehght." 
 
 " And Helen ?" 
 
 " She did not say any thing ; but I could see by 
 
Brother and Sister. 195 
 
 the twinkle of her eyes, that she would not have 
 cried if I had given him a little more." 
 
 " Now I am going to tell you something to suprise 
 you, but I must have your word of honor as a man 
 and a sailor, that you'll not breathe a word or move 
 a step until I give you leave." 
 
 " I promise, faithfully." 
 Barton is the husband of Helen." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed George, springing from his 
 seat, as if he had been propelled from a mortar, 
 though he didn't rise quite so high, the infernal 
 scoundrel ! Say that again." 
 
 " I say that Robert Barton is the husband of Helen 
 Lee that was — now Helen 'Barton — though he 
 disowns her, and swears his marriage was all a 
 sham." 
 
 " And I suppose he wanted to play the same game 
 with Julia. Oh, Doctor, if I had known that before, 
 I don't think I would have let you bail me out." 
 
 " Remember, George, I have your promise." 
 
 " Oh, of course ; it's too late, now. But what are 
 you going to do about it ?" 
 
 First, let me tell you how it was found out," and 
 I narrated the interview of Helen with Barton in 
 JuHa'sroom, to which he listened with eager atten- 
 tion, interruptmg me, however, by occasional interjec- 
 
196 The Second Marriage. 
 
 tions and threats, which, being accompanied by pretty 
 strong sea-language, I do not think it necessary to 
 repeat. 
 
 When I closed, he reiterated his earnest wishes 
 that I would only give him one more chance at 
 Barton, and he promised me that he would give me 
 all the money he had now, which was about eighty 
 dollars, and work out the balance. 
 
 Of course, I forbade that, and he renewed his 
 promise of good behavior. 
 
 "Now, George," I continued, "I must and will 
 find out who married them, for I believe they were 
 really married, and I am the more inclined to that, 
 for the reason that he has kept the certificate which 
 was given on the occasion. Helen was a simple- 
 hearted country girl, and of course trusted him. I 
 want you to help me, in this search." 
 
 " Won't I ?" was all he answered. 
 
 "Now, I know that every minister or magistrate, 
 who marries parties here, is obliged to keep a record 
 of names, dates, and ages of the husband and wife, 
 and that is the only chance of discovermg whether 
 they were really married or not." 
 
 " Why don't you advertise for the — " 
 
 " Pshaw, George, that would only put Barton on 
 his guard, and he would be out of reach in no time. 
 
Brother and Sister. 
 
 197 
 
 "No, no ; it requires care, prudence, and great caution. 
 Indeed, so much, I'm almost afraid to trust you." 
 
 " You needn't feel so ; I shan't forget that I'm 
 working to punish a man who wanted to ruin my 
 sister, and I'll keep my tongue as fast inside my teeth, 
 as a dead man." 
 
 After again impressing him with the necessity of 
 extreme caution, I detailed my plan of operations, 
 which was to ascertain the residence of every minister 
 and magistrate in the city, and go myself, or send a 
 proper person to see them. 
 
 " I'll take one-half, and work like a beaver." 
 
 " Only work as quietly, and I will give you all 
 credit. Now, I must go and see Helen, and get 
 from her a description of the man who performed 
 the ceremony, and such other circumstances as she 
 can remember. Do you see me to-morrow ; I will 
 step around to Helen's, now ; so good night,'^ and 
 with a hearty shake of the hand, and repeating with 
 much earnestcress, that I was a man from clew to 
 earmg," he took his leave, 
 
 I found the girls in high spirits. Julia, of course, 
 perfectly happy in the return of her brother, for she 
 now felt that her only natural protector was both 
 able and willing to shield her from the machinations 
 
198 The Second Marriage. 
 
 of Barton, while Helen forgot her own sorrows in 
 sympathy for her friend's joy. 
 
 Briefly announcing the nature of my visit, Helen's 
 countenance lighted up with happiness, for if I should 
 succeed in establishing Barton's villainy, and her con- 
 sequent innocence, she could rejoice the hearts of her 
 dear parents by convincing them how much more she 
 had been sinned against than sinning, and she felt, 
 that if made aware of the terrible punishment which 
 had been visited upon her disobedience to them, they 
 would take her to their hearts again. 
 
 "l^ow, Helen," I said, with great earnestness, "I 
 want you to tell me all you can remember about the 
 time, place, and circumstances of your marriage. 
 What kind of a looking man was he who married 
 you ? Have you any idea where you went, and can 
 you give me any description of the place ? Think 
 carefully, and answer me as correctly as you can, for 
 it is very important to you." 
 
 "He was a tall, spare man, dressed in black. 
 That's about all I can remember of his appearance." 
 
 I thought to myself that was a very slender reed 
 on which to lean, as there were a great many tall 
 and spare men in the city, dressed in black. 
 
 " But what street was it in ?" 
 
Brother and Sister. 
 
 199 
 
 " Oh dear I I could not remember, even if I had 
 known. I had only been in the city one day, and 
 had not been out of the hotel until he took me to 
 the person who was to marry us." 
 
 " Was he a minister, do you think ?" 
 I am sure he was not, because he did not make 
 any prayer. He had a httle book in his hand, it is 
 true, but he did not use it, except when the cere- 
 mony was over, he put down our names and ages on 
 a blank leaf, and then made out a certificate from 
 that.'' 
 
 " Do you remember any thing of the room ?" 
 
 " I remember now. Doctor, that when we left the 
 hotel we walked up Broadway for a long distance, 
 and then turned to the right. We went in that 
 direction two blocks — not more, I am sure. The 
 room was a small library. There was an oak table 
 in the middle, covered with green leather, and right 
 over the mantel-piece was a beautiful picture of 
 a lady and two children. One of the children had 
 long flaxen hair hanging down her neck in heavy 
 curls, and I remember thinking what a beautiful 
 child she was." 
 
 " JsTow, then, when was it ?" I asked, having care- 
 fully treasui'ed up what she had been saying. 
 
200 The Second Marriage. 
 
 "In October, two years ago. On the 13th." 
 
 *' That will do — good night. You will hear from 
 me in a few days, and I hope to some purpose," and 
 with many warm thanks for the pains and interest I 
 had taken in a poor friendless girl, I took my leave. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MORE GOOD LUCK. 
 
 Having ascertained thus much, it was necessary to 
 take further steps, and my first was to procure from 
 the City Hall, a hst of the names and residences of 
 the Aldermen for the year in which the ceremony 
 was performed. This obtained, I determined to act 
 alone, and not entrust to George any more of ac- 
 tive duty than was absolutely necessary. To this 
 end, I set him at work upon a Directory, hunting up 
 all the Reverends he could find, promising that when 
 he had completed the list we would go to work. 
 
 I had changed my mind about using his personal ser- 
 vices, for the reason, that although he was an honest, 
 noble-hearted fellow, and would do any thing in his 
 power to serve me, I feared that his blunt, unpolished 
 manners would rather injure our cause, and so de- 
 ceived him into a careful perusal of the Directory. 
 I knew, well enough, where to find the names on the 
 instant, but chose this mode, in order to give him oc- 
 cupation ; and tedious as was the duty, I felt assured 
 
202 The Second Marriage. 
 
 he would perform it faithfully, though he would much 
 rather have been more actively employed. 
 
 My first visit was to the Police Magistrates, who 
 very often perform the marriage ceremony, and they 
 cheerfully referred to their records, but without suc- 
 cess, so far as my object was concerned. 
 
 I next commenced on the Aldermen residing in the 
 upper part of the city, for from Helen's description 
 of the route she had taken on leaving the hotel, I 
 was satisfied, that if the ceremony had been per- 
 formed by any Alderman, it must have been by one 
 representing one of the upper wards. 
 
 I could not devote much time to this search, as 
 my professional duties required pretty constant atten- 
 tion, so I chose the evenings, as being the period 
 when I would be most likely to find the gentlemen at 
 home. 
 
 T had visited four or five, but only one of them had 
 any record of the marriages performed by him ; the 
 others, had entered them immediately in the office of 
 the City Inspector, at the City Hall, but I deferred 
 going there until I had completed my round among 
 the Aldermen. 
 
 The third evening of these visits, (and by the way, 
 George had carefully spelled over the Directory by this 
 time, and had made out a list, as he expressed himself, 
 
More Good Luck 
 
 203 
 
 as long as from " here to there and back again,") I 
 started off rather discouraged as to my prospects, 
 but cheering myself with the hope, that Providence 
 would again interpose in behalf of the injured 
 woman. 
 
 This was the last of the up-town Aldermen upon 
 whom I was about to call, and if he failed me, I re- 
 solved to employ some active officer to go among the 
 ministers, instead of George, for that would be an 
 interminable task for me, and I felt that George 
 was not exactly the proper person to prosecute this 
 search. 
 
 My ring at the door of the house occupied by Mr, 
 
 H , was speedily answered by a servant, who, in 
 
 answer to my inquiry for Alderman H , ushered 
 
 me into a small and appropriately furnished library. 
 My heart beat faster, and my breath came and 
 w^ent quicker, as a passing glance at its contents 
 showed me that Providence had indeed crowned my 
 efforts with success. There was the oaken centre- 
 table, covered with green leather ; and there, over 
 the mantel-piece, was the identical picture described 
 by Helen — the lady and two little girls, and one of 
 them with flaxen, curly hair. 
 
 " My dear sir, I am so glad to see you," I said, as 
 the proprietor of the name and of the house entered, 
 
204 The Second Marriage. 
 
 and I rau up grasping his hand with all the warmth 
 of an old friend, quite forgettmg that we had never 
 met before. 
 
 Mr. H smiled at this very remarkable exhibi- 
 tion of pleasure on the part of a stranger, and when I 
 had dropped his hand, he quietly motioned me to 
 take a seat, which I did, and then for the first time 
 I became sensible of the ridiculous figure I had just 
 cut. 
 
 Rising much more hastily than I had seated my- 
 self, I said, "Really, Mr. H , you must pardon 
 
 my conduct just now, which you must have thought 
 
 particularly absurd. My name is Dr. , and my 
 
 busmess here is one of great importance to a friend in 
 whom I feel a deep interest. I have been many days 
 engaged in searching for this table and that picture," 
 and I laid one hand on the table, pointing with the 
 other to the picture. 
 
 ]\Ir. H. smiled again, and this time rather incredu- 
 lously, evidently beginning to think he had a lunatic 
 to deal with, and I noticed that he kept his eyes 
 fixed on my own in true professional style. 
 
 " Come, come, Mr. H., I see you think I am a 
 little touched here," and I tapped my forehead. 
 " Let me tell you why I was so happy to see you, 
 and why I have been searching for this table and 
 
More Good Luck. 205 
 
 that picture, neither of which, I assure you, did I 
 ever before see." 
 
 Mr. H. bowed, but did not smile this time. 
 You were an alderman in 185 — ?" 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " You sometimes, while holding that oflSce, per- 
 formed marriage ceremonies ?" 
 
 " Never but twice. I was at my store all day, 
 and not so much in the way of such job«i as many of 
 my fellow members." 
 
 " So much the better, Mr. H ; it will render my 
 task the easier." 
 
 "]N'ow, I will tell you why I was so glad to see 
 that table and that picture. ' A young and innocent 
 country girl was inveigled from her home by a 
 specious villain who brought her to this city in 
 October, 185 — . I am deeply interested in the girl, 
 and for very particular reasons have an equal, though 
 a very different interest in the scoundrel who has 
 caused so much trouble and distress. After living 
 with her some time as his wife, he basely deserted 
 her, telling her that the marriage was all a sham. I 
 have the best reason in the world for believing that 
 the marriage was real, and that the poor young girl 
 has been most basely deserted by him who is bound 
 by law to protect and provide for her." 
 
206 The Second Marriage. 
 
 In such a case," said Mr. H , with warmth, 
 
 " I am with you, sir, and will lend every aid in my 
 power." 
 
 " Now, as to the table and picture. I questioned 
 the young woman a few nights since as to what she 
 remembered of the person who performed the cere- 
 mony, and the house where it took place. All she 
 could tell me was, that the gentleman was a tall, spare 
 man, dressed in black, and that he didn't say any 
 prayer, and that over the fire-place there hung the 
 portrait of a lady and two children, one of them with 
 long, curly, flaxen ringlets, and that there was an 
 oak table in the room, covered with green leather. 
 Here is the table," I continued, laying my hand on 
 it, with very unnecessary vehemence, "and there is 
 the portrait. You are tall, and spare, and I hope 
 in God's name you are the right person." 
 
 " Upon my word, this is very extraordinary," said 
 Mr. H , who had heard me through with ap- 
 parent interest. " I am sure I shall be glad if I am 
 the party you are seeking. But the name ? I only 
 married two couples during my term of office, and I 
 have them both down in my book.'^ 
 
 Robert Barton and Helen Lee," I replied. 
 
 Mr. H opened a drawer in the oaken table, 
 
 and produced thence a small book, looking much like 
 
More Good Luck 
 
 20t 
 
 a pocket-book, for it was clasped, and handing it for 
 my inspection, I opened it. 
 
 It was composed of some dozen or twenty leaves 
 of heavy Bristol board, to give it the appearance of 
 a book, but in the centre were two pages printed, of 
 a form for the celebration of the rites of matrimony, 
 originating with one of the Mayors, and which was 
 a combination of the civil and ecclesiastical forms. 
 The rest of the book was blank. 
 
 Turning over the blank leaves, I came to some 
 entries, and the first that met my eye was the 
 one I sought, ''Robert Barton, aged twenty-five ; 
 Helen Lee, aged twenty years — October 13th, 
 185—." 
 
 "Mr. H I said, tendering my hand, "don't 
 
 think me a fool, but as I entered this room, I was 
 sure that success was to crown my efforts in behalf 
 of a friendless and unhappy woman. There is the 
 entry I have been looking for ; and now, only one 
 question — Would you recognize those parties ?" 
 
 " Certainly ; I remember thinking what a handsome 
 couple they made ; the man was really a fine, splen- 
 did-looking fellow — the girl a sweet, modest, retu-- 
 ing thing. Remember them ! yes, of course I would. 
 I was as much flurried as they were, as it was the 
 first time I had performed the ceremony, and I 
 
208 The Second Marriage. 
 
 recollect after they had gone condemniDg myself for 
 not askmg more questions than I did." 
 
 " Were there any witnesses ?" 
 
 " My wife and daughter came in, at my reqnest ; 
 nobody else was present." 
 
 " Could you spare half an hour to help right a 
 great wrong, Mr. H ?" 
 
 " Yes, a dozen of them." 
 
 " Then please come with me ; it won't take you 
 more than an hour and hastily summoning his 
 servant, he left word that he would be home in about 
 an hour, and in a moment was hatted and gloved, 
 ready to accompany me. 
 
 " You have taken a great deal of pains in this 
 
 matter, Dr. he said, as we walked along 
 
 towards the abode of Helen, for it was there I was 
 conducting him. 
 
 Not more than the importance of the case de- 
 manded. This Barton is mixed up in the affairs of 
 a family in whom I have the deepest interest, and 
 this disclosure is of immense importance to my plans 
 with reference to them ; besides, I am anxious to 
 see the young, deserted wife established in her 
 rights." 
 
 Will she live with him again ?" 
 " Not for half New- York ; her contempt for him 
 
More Good Luck. 
 
 209 
 
 is too great to dream of that ; but she wants to be 
 put aright with her parents, from whom she eloped 
 with him. They think that she is leading a Ufe of 
 infamy in New- York, while I know that she is a 
 virtuous, industrious, hard-working, and most un- 
 happy woman. Why, the scoundrel was about to 
 perpetrate a similar outrage on a young girl whom I 
 know, and would have succeeded, if his wife had not, 
 by some Providential interference, met her infamous 
 husband in company with her, and to whom of course 
 she made all known." 
 
 " He must be an infamous scoundrel." 
 
 " He is precisely that, and nothing else, without 
 one redeeming trait." 
 
 In a few moments we reached the house occupied 
 by Julia and Helen, and ascended to the room of the 
 latter, when, after knocking unsuccessfully two or 
 three times, I proceeded to Julia's apartment, where 
 my summons was answered by Julia's " come in," and 
 we entered. 
 
 As I supposed, we found the girls together, and 
 
 as Helen caught sight of Mr. H , she started 
 
 forward with a cry of joy, for she had recognized him 
 on the instant. 
 
 He turned to me, with a smile of satisfaction, and 
 said, " Doctor, the recognition is mutual ; that is the 
 
210 The Second Marriage. 
 
 girl I raarried to Robert Barton, though she is paler 
 and thinner now." 
 
 " She has had enough to drive tlie color from her 
 cheeks and to take the flesh from her bones, since 
 you saw her. Helen, this is the gentleman, Alderman 
 H , who married yo\V^ 
 
 " Then I was really married ?" 
 
 " As surely, Madam, and as strongly as all the 
 priests in the world could have done it ; I remember 
 you distinctly," said Mr. H , earnestly. 
 
 " Thank God — thank God !" she exclaimed, spring- 
 ing forward ; and seizing the Alderman's unresisting 
 hand, she bathed it with her tears. 
 
 " And next, dear Doctor," and she approached me 
 with streaming eyes, extending her hand, but before 
 I could reach her own, she threw herself upon my 
 neck, and sobbed as if her heart would break. She 
 had no room for words, nor had I, and I made no 
 attempt to speak. 
 
 Mr. H had stood a silent, but not unmoved 
 
 spectator of this scene, for his own eyes were moist 
 jvith tears. 
 
 How long this might have continued I know not, 
 but it was interrupted by the sudden and unan- 
 nounced entrance of George Seaton, who bounced 
 into the room uttering one of his sea phrases, but 
 
More Good Luck. 
 
 211 
 
 who stood as still as though he had been turned into 
 a statue, as he observed the position of things. 
 
 " Well, I suppose this means something," he said, 
 " but you may make a marine of me if I know what 
 it means." 
 
 "It means, George," I replied, "that I have got 
 the weather-guage of you ; that while you have been 
 speUing out the Directory, I have found the man." 
 
 " God bless you, old fellow," he said, taking in my 
 
 meaning at once, and grasping Mr. H s hand, 
 
 ''so you're the man that spliced them. Hurra, 
 Doctor, hurra," and going up to Julia, he seized her 
 in his brawny arms, and almost squeezed the breath 
 out of her body ; and not content with that, he paid 
 Helen the same comphment, to which she made no 
 resistance, for she knew that the impulse which 
 prompted him, sprang from a noble, generous heart. 
 
 Doctor, you've headed me olf, I see, but I haven't 
 a word to say. Steer your own course, and I'll 
 follow you." 
 
 " Mr. H ," said I, " this is the brother of Juha, 
 
 and a hard customer, as you see, but his heart is m 
 the right place. So don't mind him." 
 
 "But I do mind him. I love an honest man 
 wherever I meet him, and I'll swear he is honest. 
 Give us your hand again, my friend," and he ex- 
 
212 The Second Marriage. 
 
 tended his hand to the ready grasp of the happy 
 sailor. 
 
 But I won't prolong this scene. I had succeeded 
 to the very extent of my expectations, and from my 
 heart thanked the over-ruhng Providence which had 
 guided me in my efforts to expose and defeat the 
 villainy sought to be practised. 
 
 As we left the house, that is the alderman and 
 myself, for George chose to remain, to have some fun 
 as he termed it, with the girls, I said to Mr. H , 
 
 "I have one more favor to ask of you ; I want 
 you to see Barton, and if you recognize him, every 
 thing is known which I can require. Would you do 
 me that favor ?" 
 
 ''Do it — why, Doctor, you have given me an hour 
 of such real happiness, as I have not known in many 
 a day. Would I do it ? I'd go to New Orleans to 
 see him." 
 
 "You need not do that, Mr. H . He is in 
 
 this city. Just now he does not show himself by day- 
 light, for he received a tremendous pounding the other 
 day, at the hands of George Seaton, that young giant 
 whom you saw there. Seaton chanced to overhear 
 him use his sister's name disrespectfully, and he gave 
 him such a thrashing as he won't forget for many a 
 day." 
 
More Good Luck 
 
 213 
 
 " Good, I like him for that. He's a rough customer 
 to deal with, I should thmk." 
 
 ''You would be very sure of it, if you saw Bar- 
 ton's face." 
 
 " Oh, then, you know this Barton ?" 
 
 " m tell you all about it, in good tune. Now, I 
 thank you for your kindness in this matter, and per- 
 haps you will find your reward when you know 
 how much you have contributed to the happiness 
 
 of others. Mr. H , you may have to be made a 
 
 party to a very disagreeable affair. You won't 
 object V 
 
 " Not if I can serve that unfortunate girl, and aid 
 to punish the scoundrel who deceived her." 
 
 " That's only part of it ; I will let you know more 
 hereafter. May I rely upon you ?" 
 
 "With all my heart and soul," he said, earnestly, 
 as he clasped my hand, and we parted. 
 
 Early in the following week, having put Mr. Bar- 
 in presentable condition, I called on the Alderman, and 
 inviting him to a restam-ant down town, asked him 
 to remain a few minutes, while I went for the party 
 whom I trusted he would recognize. 
 
 Proceeding to the store where Barton was em- 
 ployed, I made some business excuse for being in that 
 part of the city at such an unusual hour of the day. 
 
214 The Second Marriage. 
 
 and he gladly accepted the invitation to join me in a 
 glass of wine and some oysters. 
 
 I took him of course to the restaurant where the 
 Alderman was in waiting, and as we entered he nodded 
 his head to me, as if to say, " that is the man," and 
 without noticing him, we partook of our refreshments. 
 
 ''Is that the man?" I asked, when Barton had 
 left, for he had to hurry back to the store. 
 
 '' As sure as my name is — " 
 
 "Then, alderman, all I have to say is, that from 
 my heart I thank you, for you have enabled me to 
 confound vice and treachery, and to save the character 
 of an injured woman." 
 
 " Call on me at any time, if you want any further 
 evidence," he said, shaking my hand warmly, for, 
 without knowing more than I had chosen to mention, 
 he had surmised that there was some other villainy on 
 foot, which I was trying to thwart. 
 
 Thanking him for his j^roffered kindness, and with 
 mutual expressions of regard, we parted. 
 
 I proceeded at once to see Helen Lee, or Helen 
 Barton, as she was now fully entitled to call herself, 
 and her joy at the full realization of her hopes, was 
 unbounded ; for now, said she, with streaming eyes, 
 " I can write to my dear parents, that wrongfully and 
 wickedly as I acted, I have not disgraced them, ex- 
 
More Good Luck. 
 
 215 
 
 cept," she added, ''by bearing the name of one so 
 unworthy the love of a vu'tuous woman." 
 
 Having thus completed these important discoveries, 
 it became necessary that I should admit George into 
 my further confidence, but I did not do so until he 
 gave me his word, as a man and a sailor, that he 
 would do nothing contrary to my directions, and that 
 if I commanded, he would even refrain from thrash- 
 ing Barton again, if he had the opportunity ; and 
 this latter promise, I assured him, if faithfully kept, 
 would save me three hundred dollars. 
 
 " Faith," he said, with glistening eyes, " I wish I 
 had three hundred dollars, I think I'd give it for a 
 fair chance at that scoundrel. But no matter. Doc- 
 tor, I have given you my word, and I won't break it." 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HOME AGAIN. 
 
 As we descended from the carriage, I saw George 
 standing near the stoop of the house, evidently wait- 
 ing for me. I gave him a nod, as much as to say, 
 " Follow me," and buttoning up his coat, as if to pre- 
 pare for action, he followed our party into the house. 
 
 Mr. Evarts and his daughter led the way, arm in 
 
 arm. Dr. D and myself brought up the rear, 
 
 while, in obedience to my commands hastily whispered, 
 George and Dinah remamed in the hall, awaiting my 
 summons. 
 
 In this position we entered the parlor, where we 
 found Mrs. Evarts, Mattie, and Barton, engrossed in 
 interesting and evidently amusing conversation, for 
 they were laughing excessively as we made our ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 At the first glance they all arose, and it was 
 evident that Mrs. Evarts did not recognize Cora, for 
 she was dressed in deep mourning, and had probably 
 
Home Again. 
 
 2n 
 
 changed much since she had been seen in that apart- 
 ment. 
 
 An instant sufficed to tell the wily woman who she 
 was, and advancing with outstretched arms, Mrs. 
 Evarts exclaimed, " my dear, my darling Cora, do I 
 see you again ?" 
 
 Before, however, she had measured half the dis- 
 tance which separated them, Mr. Evarts, dropping his 
 daughter's arm, and stepping forward to intercept 
 her further progress, stretched out his hand, and in a 
 voice whose tones could not be soon forgotten, said, 
 " Off viper — do not dare to pollute my daughter with 
 your unholy touch." 
 
 ''Mr. Evarts," said his wife, shrinking back, and 
 looking, as indeed she well might be, unutterably 
 astonished, " What does this mean ? Surely, that 
 language was not intended for me, your wife." 
 
 " Oh, pa," chimed in Mattie, advancing and layiag 
 her hand upon Mr. Evarts' arm, but he shrank from 
 her touch, as from contact with some loathsome rep- 
 tile, while she stood aghast at the look of ineffable 
 contempt which he cast upon her. 
 
 " Pardon me. Miss Martha," he said, with a look 
 
 of the most supreme scorn, " I do not desire to claim 
 
 the honor you accord to me ; your father would, 
 
 doubtless, be proud of the honor of hailmg you by 
 10 
 
218 The Second Marriage 
 
 that title ; I have no such ambition. I am sorry he 
 cannot be here to chiim you." 
 
 At these words, Mrs. Evarts and her daughter 
 turned deadly pale ; but that might be attributable 
 to the extraordinary position in which they found 
 themselves thus suddenly placed. 
 
 Mrs. Evarts was excessively agitated, but assuming 
 an air of defiance, she swung her dress around so as 
 to admit her readier progress, and advancing close to 
 her husband, placed her hand upon her hips, and 
 with the most unblushing effrontery, said, " I should 
 like to know very much, Mr. Evarts, what all this 
 mummery means. How dare you use such language 
 to my daughter ? and how dare you, sir,'' (and she 
 emphasized the word most sensibly), " bring that 
 woman into our presence ?" and she pointed to Cora, 
 who stood hanging upon her father's arm, pale, mute, 
 but determined, for she knew she had friends beside 
 her. " What does this mean, sir ?" she repeated, with 
 flashing eyes, and a countenance fairly crimsoned with 
 rage. 
 
 " It means simply this," he replied, with a compo- 
 sure almost theatrical, so perfect was it, showing that 
 he had completely mastered the terrible excitement 
 under which he had labored as he entered the house, 
 " that I have brought my daughter to preside in my 
 
Home Again. 
 
 219 
 
 own house, from which, when I was mean and base 
 enough to believe your Kes, I drove her. It means, 
 Madam, that I know you — that I have discovered 
 your vileness and unworthiness, and it means, more- 
 over, that she is henceforth the mistress of this estab- 
 lishment. Is that plain enough for you ?" 
 
 I shall be happy to know," she said, with a 
 supercilious air, " that she is worthy of the honor 
 you have done her, but until I am convinced," (and 
 she drew herself up with an expression which even 
 Cleopatra might have copied), ''you cannot expect 
 that my daughter or myself can consent to associate 
 with her ; I can never consent that my daughter's 
 morals shall be contaminated by contact with " 
 
 " Silence, Madam," he said, in a voice almost of 
 thunder, " nor dare to utter one single word against 
 my child ; she is too pure to be named in the same 
 breath with such polluted beings as yourselves." 
 
 But as he spoke, he turned to me, and caught such 
 an appealing look from me not to hasten the denoue- 
 ment, that checking himself, he said, calmly, I had 
 not, Madam, the most remote idea of placing you 
 in such a contingency. I am perfectly aware that it 
 would be disagreeable to you to live under the same 
 roof with her, and I therefore advise you to make 
 
220 The Second Marriage. 
 
 preparations for yonr instant removal and although 
 he commenced in a calm, sober tone of voice, he 
 wound up with a tone of perfect fierceness. 
 
 " Nay, Madam," he continued, seeing that she was 
 about to speak, "you need not waste your breath ; it 
 is not only my intention, but my deliberate purpose, 
 and my determmed resolution, that you shall not re- 
 side under the same roof another day. You may 
 make your preparations for leaving as soon as you 
 choose.'^ 
 
 " Sir ! Mr. Evarts — this to me — your "nife, your 
 daughter?" she exclaimed, advancing towards him, 
 half-imploringly, " you cannot mean this ; do you 
 know that you are speaking to your wife, and that I 
 
 am entitled to ?" 
 
 Wife ! Madam, I disown you. How dare you use 
 that sacred name in my presence, and to me ? Your 
 husband, Madam, would be glad to hear from you, 
 and so would your father. Miss Martha," he added, 
 with a contemptuous sneer. 
 
 " Mr, Evarts," said the undaunted woman, brist- 
 ling up to him with flashing eyes, " I want to know 
 what all this means ? I am your lawful wife, and 
 you cannot thus discard me — ^you shall not, for 
 by ^" 
 
Home Again. 
 
 221 
 
 " Madam, you are not my wife, and well you know 
 it," he said very calmly. "Your husband is now 
 where you would be, if I could so disgrace myself as 
 to expose you. Be content that I am merciful, and 
 do not urge me too far." 
 
 " I defy you, sir — I defy you," she fairly screamed, 
 " you have invented a parcel of hes to " 
 
 " Doctor, call her up," he said, turning to me with 
 a coolness which I could not too much honor ; and as 
 I turned to obey his du*ections, she continued, with a 
 voice trembhng with emotion, for she saw the ground 
 on which she had so long and in such security stood, 
 tremblmg beneath her — the foundation on which she 
 had built her hopes, crumbling beneath her feet — 
 " you have made grave and di'eadful charges against 
 a woman whom you have sworn to love and cherish, 
 but whom you are seeking now, for^ sorhe purpose 
 which I cannot divine, to destroy ; you bring dread- 
 ful charges against an innocent and unoffending girl, 
 who has been taught to look upon you as her friend, 
 her benefactor, her father. You know them to be 
 groundless, but you have trumped them up for some 
 vile purpose of your own ; and to the latest hour of 
 your hfe, you will repent your present conduct. You 
 cannot — I defy you to throw a shadow upon my 
 
222 The Second Marriage. 
 
 character, which yow now assail, and the infamons 
 manner in wliich you clare to speak of " — 
 
 " Sarah Horton," said Mr. Evarts, witli the most 
 imperturbable composure. " I know you, and if I did 
 not, here is one who does," and he pointed to Dinah, 
 who entered the room at that moment, followed by 
 myself. 
 
 "I do not know what you mean. My name is 
 not, and never was, Sarah Horton," she said, boldly 
 . " I am Sarah Evarts, and I defy the world to dis- 
 prove it." 
 
 At that moment Dinah advanced towards the . 
 light, and as Mrs. Evarts caught a view of her, she 
 faltered, but only for an instant. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I defy you to deny or disprove it ?" 
 
 " Doctor," said Mr. Evarts, turning to me, with a 
 smile, "this woman is a regular lawyer, she denies 
 every thing, and insists upon proof. Dinah, come 
 here," and, in obedience to the summons, Dinah ad- 
 vanced into the full glare of the light. 
 
 Mrs. Evarts now scrutinized her very closely, and 
 from the expression of her countenance I could sec 
 that she recognized her, but turning to her husband 
 with a look of ineffable scorn, she said, " And is this 
 your proof ? Is this your witness, on whose evidence 
 
Home Again. 
 
 223 
 
 you seek to coudemn and disgrace your own wife ? 
 What has this woman to do with me ?" 
 
 " Do you not know her, Madam ?" 
 
 " Know her ! Yes ; as a vicious, lying slave, who 
 ran away from me years ago, and who deserves as 
 good a horsewhipping as I would give her if I had 
 her in Alabama." 
 
 "Now, Dinah, tell your story ; perhaps she will 
 believe you can tell the truth after all, if you are a 
 negro." 
 
 It would be worse than folly to undertake to fol- 
 low Dinah in her narrative. The vials of her long- 
 pent wrath were now uncorked, and such a torrent of 
 truth and abuse, of narrative and invective, I never 
 heard before or since. 
 
 She commenced fi'om her earliest acquaintance 
 with Mrs. Evarts, and traced her career from that 
 hour until she became the wife of one of the most 
 notorious villains in the Southern country — a man 
 who was at that very hour in the State Prison of 
 Louisiana for a foul murder, he having escaped hang- 
 ing only by the obstinacy of one friend who was on 
 the jury. 
 
 As Dmah, with impassioned gestures, went on 
 with her narrative, Mrs. Evarts gradually receded 
 
224 The Second Marriage. 
 
 from her, until at leiigtli, comi)letely overwlielmed 
 and condemned beyond the possibility of denial, she 
 sank mute and motionless upon the sofa, by the side 
 of Martha, who had, with Robert Barton, remained 
 a passive, but not an uninterested listener. 
 
 Nor did Martha pass unscathed, for after closing 
 with the mother, Dinah narrated some passages in the 
 earlier life of the daughter, which, had she not been 
 struck dumb, and almost senseless, by the suddenness 
 of the blow just inflicted, would have called the 
 blush even to her cheek. 
 
 There, Massa Doctor, that's all I got to say," 
 she said, turning to me, when she had ended, and she 
 flirted out of the room with an air of offended dig- 
 nity, for the idea of a horsewhipping had aroused all 
 the vindictiveness of her character, and possibly may 
 have led her to color some portions of her narrative 
 pretty higlily. 
 
 "That's a very pretty story," said Barton, turning 
 to Mrs. Evarts, who was beside him on the sofa. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you fool," was all the reply 
 she vouchsafed. 
 
 "Now, Madam," said Mr. Evarts, "you have 
 heard thus much, do you wish for more? I have 
 abundant evidence here of your vile plot to ruin my 
 
Home Again 
 
 225 
 
 daugliter and destroy my peace for the sake of my 
 fortune. Shame on you ! Shame on womanhood !" 
 
 "JsTot a word, Mr. Evarts. I do not wish to 
 hear another word from you/' she said, haughtily, 
 and rising from the sofa. '* If you can stoop so low 
 as to arraign your wife — yoiu' faithful, devoted wife, 
 upon such charges and on such evidence, I cannot 
 so far degrade myself as to reply to them. I cannot 
 condescend to put my word on a par with that of a 
 negress and a prost — " 
 
 " Hold, Madam ; do not finish that word, or you 
 may dearly repent it." 
 
 "And you. Doctor — I suppose, from your appear- 
 ance here," she continued, turning to me, and with- 
 out seeming to notice Mr. Evarts, ''that I may 
 safely conclude you have some agency in this most 
 reputable transaction. I can imagine now, why I 
 found you in attendance on my servant." 
 
 I bowed, and said, " it was my good fortune to 
 have lent some aid in the matter, but as J ohn's name 
 had not been mentioned as yet by any one, I begged 
 to ask what he had to do with it ?" 
 
 She was fairly caught there, and for an instant 
 seemed cowed, but recovering her self-possession as 
 quickly, she said, of course not, but I presume now 
 
 10* 
 
226 The Second Marriage. 
 
 that you were there to tutor him as to the hes he 
 was to tell upon this occasion. Had you not better 
 produce him, too ?" 
 
 " Here they are, Madam ; here are the lies I have 
 instructed him to tell," I said, " under his own hand," 
 handing to Mr. Evarts the joint statement of John 
 and Julia; ''and even Julia has been also tutored, 
 for she too condemns you, and exposes your entire 
 conduct." 
 
 Well, I think it's time for me to leave," said Mr. 
 Barton, rising; " I will bid you a very good morning, 
 as I don't care to be a party to any further family 
 quarrels." 
 
 " You had better not go jnst yet, Mr. Barton," I 
 said, very coolly; " George Seaton is at the door, and 
 perhaps he may not have forgotten you yet ;" and as 
 I spoke, he sank back into his seat, trembling at the 
 sound of that name, the perspiration starting at 
 every pore, for he had not forgotten the young giant 
 who had left such terrible marks upon him before, 
 and whose name he knew well enough at the time, 
 though he had concealed it from me. 
 
 I have a few words to say to you, Sir, too, before 
 you do go." 
 
 Doctor, call George, will you," and in a moment 
 
Home Again. 
 
 227 
 
 George was in the room. His piercing eye caught 
 sight of Barton on the instant, and he made a 
 movement of advancing towards him with clenched 
 fists and flashing eyes, but a word from me checked 
 him, 
 
 I wish every one here to know, and you espe- 
 cially, Miss Horton," and I turned to Mattie, " for 
 you may be most deeply interested, that this honor- 
 able gentleman has a wife living now in this city." 
 
 " It's a lie — a wicked lie. Sir, and I dare you to 
 prove it." 
 
 Oh, certainly ; I came prepared for that. I 
 have found out the Alderman who married you to 
 Helen Lee. Perhaps you remember the day when 
 we went to the eating-house together ; he was there 
 then, and recognized you ; and more than that, I 
 have his certificate of your marriage. It would hardly 
 be safe for you. Sir, to try another wife, in this city 
 at least. And now you, Miss Mattie, are warned ; 
 you can do as you choose." 
 
 " One word more, Sir," I said, seeing that he was 
 about to interrupt me, " a warrant will be out for 
 your arrest, on a charge of abandonment, before the 
 day is out, and if you are found here within twenty- 
 four hours, you may find some difficulty in obtaining 
 bail, unless Mr. Bvarts will go your surety." 
 
228 The Second Marriage. 
 
 You arc a meddling puppy, Sir, and you sliall 
 hear from me for this." 
 
 No, I won't ; as soon as you leave this house, 
 you will make the best of your way out of Kew- 
 York ; you are too fond of yourself to run the risk of 
 being sent to the Tombs. Tliat's all, Sir ; you can 
 go now, if you wish. No, George, no violence," I 
 said, seeing George looking at mo imploringly, as if 
 asking permission to give him a little taste of his 
 quality ; and true to his promise, the young sailor 
 restrained himself. 
 
 Mr. Barton walked leisurely up to Mr. Evarts, 
 and with a look which he meant for contempt, said. 
 You old fool ; ten days more and I would have had 
 you fast — you have had a narrow escape, thanks to 
 that puppy there," meaning me. 
 
 "And you will have to thank that puppy for a 
 lucky escape yourself, unless you keep a more civil 
 tongue, for George there looks very anxious." 
 
 Without deigning any reply, he was about leaving 
 the room, without even saying farewell to his partners 
 in iniquity, when Mattie sprang forward, and seizing 
 his arm, exclaimed, '' Oh, Kobert, surely you don't 
 mean to leave us now ?" 
 
 " You may all go to the together for all I 
 
 care. You have brought all this on yourselves, and 
 
Home Again. 
 
 229 
 
 you may get out of it the best way you can f and 
 shaking her off, he left the room, followed with long- 
 ing eyes by George, but unnoticed by either of my 
 party. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 DRA-VnXG TO A CLOSE. 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Horton, I presume I need not point 
 out the only course left for you to pursue," said Mr. 
 Evarts, turning to the cowed and amazed woman, 
 who remained still seated on the sofa. 
 
 " My name, Sir, is Evarts — Sarah Evarts. The 
 law has given me a title to that name, and to my 
 rights as your wife, and the law alone shall compel 
 me to yield them," she said, recovering some of her 
 self-possession. 
 
 "As you please, Madam — take what course you 
 please in regard to that. But in one thing I must 
 have my way, and that immediately. This is my 
 house — this is my daughter ; I need not say, both 
 of you cannot remain under the same roof, and I 
 choose that my daughter shall. So far as regards 
 any rights you may claim as my reputed wife, perhaps 
 you will do well to thmk before you act ; for my part 
 
D R A w I N Cx TO A Close. 231 
 
 I am quite willing to spare you, and would gladly 
 spare myself the deep mortification which an exposure 
 of your wickedness and my folly must entail. Do 
 therefore as you choose, but remember that I am fully 
 prepared to substantiate every thing I have said." 
 
 " Xow, Madam," he continued, deliberately pulhng 
 out his watch, " it is nearly eleven o'clock. By four 
 o'clock this house must be rid of your presence, and 
 that of your daughter, or I shall invoke the aid of 
 the law to compel it." 
 
 " Every article belonging to you, take with you, 
 and do not leave any thing which can remind me of 
 your baseness and my weakness. Such as you cannot 
 take to-day shall be sent to-morrow, to any address 
 you may direct." 
 
 This was spoken in such a calm, imperturbable tone, 
 as left no room for hope that he would relent, and 
 now Mrs. Evarts for the first time fully realized that 
 her day of power had passed indeed. 
 
 For an instant she stood glaring at him, with fury 
 in her eyes, and then unable longer to restrain or keep 
 down the terrible passion raging within her, she com- 
 menced a tirade of the lowest and most vulgar abuse 
 I ever heard from any human hps. 
 
 It was so low, so vile, so infamous in its character, 
 
232 
 
 The Second Marriage 
 
 the womanhood of Cora, who had throughout main- 
 tained a silence broken only on her part by her sobs, 
 would not permit her to listen, and she left the 
 rj^m. 
 
 Mr.Evarts uttered not one word; he made no effort 
 to stop her. He did not seem discomposed or even 
 astonished, but stood calmly, coldly listening, and 
 when she had concluded, and thrown herself upon 
 the sofa in an agony of bitter tears of rage and dis- 
 appointment, he said, quite coolly, 
 
 " There is one thing I had forgotten. When it was 
 my misfortune to marry you, I settled twenty thou- 
 sand dollars upon you. The marriage being illegal, 
 that settlement fails, but I will not see you suffer, vile 
 as you are, and much as you have deserved it ; but, 
 it will be on the sole condition that you instantly leave 
 this city, and that you never dare to mention my 
 name in connectiQn with your own. Do you accept 
 those terms?" 
 
 Mrs. Evarts caught a ray of hope at these words, 
 and drying her tears, hastily said — 
 
 " Heaven knows, sir, it was none of my desire to 
 become your wife, or to be honored," .she sneered, 
 " by bearing your name." 
 
 " Then, I suppose, we may consider that settled ?" 
 
Drawing to a Close. 
 
 233 
 
 " For the present — yes, sir. Come, Martha," she 
 said, turning to the astounded girl, "your precious 
 father has might on his side now, but he will regret 
 it and repent this to the latest hour of his life. And 
 as for that paragon of purity and innocence, I shall 
 take good care, sir, that if you are determined not to 
 believe what I know to be true of her, the world 
 shall," and she sailed towards the door with an air of 
 a tragedy queen. 
 
 As she uttered this threat, Mr. Evarts actually 
 stood aghast, for he well knew how reckless and vin- 
 dictive was the woman with whom he had to deal, 
 and she, foreseeing the effect which her words had on 
 him, paused, and said — 
 
 " I will make the city ring with her shame, sir ; I 
 will make her repent to the last hour of her life, that 
 she ever crossed my path, and then w^e will see who 
 will triumph," and she gazed at him with a look of 
 malignant pleasure, for she knew how to wound him 
 in the most tender spot. 
 
 " Madam — devil !" said Mr. Evarts, with vehe- 
 mence, advancing towards her, if I ever hea'r that 
 my daughter's name is polluted by your lips or tliose 
 of your well-matched child, the heaviest vengeance 
 the law can inflict shall be visited on you. Remem- - 
 
234 The Second Marriage 
 
 ber, Madam, it is only to my mercy you owe your 
 present liberty ; if I wore to mete out justice to you, 
 you would share your precious husband's fate, and 
 become the inmate of a prison. Beware ; you know 
 me well enough to feel that I am in earnest. These 
 are my last words to you, aud remember them." 
 
 " Where is Cora ?" he said, turning to me, and 
 going into the hall, I found her there sitting on a 
 chair, weeping bitterly. 
 
 Leading her up to her father, he embraced her 
 with all the warmth of his earliest love, and taking 
 both her hands, he said, " my child, this is your 
 home, your house — and thank God, I am spared to 
 say that I am again your father. May God grant 
 you all the happiness you deserve, and all a father's 
 love would cheerfully bestow upon you." 
 
 Mrs. Evarts did not venture another word, but left 
 the room, followed by her weeping and subdued 
 daughter, and I saw no more of them. 
 
 " Doctor," said Mr. Evarts, turning to me, "there 
 is no use in my trying to thank you ; I have not 
 words to do it. You know my feelings. And you, 
 
 Dr. D , I thank too from my heart. Our good 
 
 friend here has told me of the kindly aid you have 
 rendered, and I shall not forget it. You will both 
 
Drawing to a Close. 235 
 
 dine with us to-day ? By the way, where is that 
 rascal, Clarence?" 
 
 " Oh, he is safe," I said ; " I saw him with Dinah 
 as I went into the hall. He is happy enough, now ; 
 he is not old enough to share our present happiness ; 
 leave him where he is." 
 
 That however did not suit, and Master Claren'ce 
 must be brought up, and after a tremendous hugging 
 from his mother and Mr. Evarts, was permitted to 
 escape, and find his own pleasure in tumbling about 
 the room. 
 
 A few minutes, it seemed to us, were passed in 
 commenting upon the past occurrences, though we 
 had really been conversing more than an hour, when 
 the parlor door was opened, and Mrs. Evarts, 
 dressed and hatted, entered, followed by Martha. 
 
 "Day — day, good folks," she said with the most 
 provoking impudence, " you shall hear from us soon. 
 Mattie, dear, go and kiss your Pa good-bye ; it may 
 be a long time before you meet again," but Mattie 
 wisely shrunk from the allotted task. " There is my 
 address," she said, throwing her card on the floor. 
 " You can send my things as soon as you choose. 
 Have we your permission to go now, Sir ?" 
 
 Mr. Evarts looked at me with a smile of such deep 
 
236 The Second Marriage. 
 
 meaning*, I readily interpreted it, and stepping forward, 
 I took np her card, and said, "Mr. Evarts authorizes 
 me to say that your things shall be sent immediately." 
 
 " Oh, yes — he authorizes you ; I dare say you will 
 have a good deal of authority here, yet ; I shouldn't 
 wonder if you had found Madam Innocence there as 
 kind as Mr. Barton did," and witTi a scornful laugh, 
 she left the room, just escaping an explosion from her 
 insulted and injured husband. 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 I SUPPOSE the reader would like to know wliat 
 became of the parties with whom he has become ac- 
 quainted m the precedmg chapters, and I shall tell 
 that in the exact words of the Doctor. 
 
 " As for Helen Lee, for she absolutely refused to 
 be called Barton, I wrote to her parents in Otsego 
 county, detailmg the cu'cumstances with which I had 
 become acquainted. 
 
 " A few days brought a letter, full of love and 
 forgiveness, begging her to come back and bless their 
 old age with her presence. This was an appeal she 
 could not resist, and she is there now, for all I know 
 to the contrary. 
 
 "Julia Seaton married a young carpenter, who 
 was set up in business by Mr. Evarts, and he is now 
 doing a thriving business. 
 
 " George was well cared for by Mr. Evarts, and 
 he now commands a brig trading hence to Havana." 
 
 " But Mrs. Marvin ?" I inquired. 
 
 "Oh, yc> ; I nearly forgot her : I married her 
 
238 The Second Marriage. 
 
 myself. You see, Iier husband was lost in a gale of 
 wind off Ca[)€ Horn, and sooner than allow lier to 
 end her days alone, I made her my wife ; and she 
 rather thinks her second marriage is likely to turn 
 out better than her father's. At all events, he 
 thinks so, and I know so." 
 
 at 
 
i 
 
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