|Chapter Title||THROWN ON THE WORLD.|
|Newspaper Title||The Daily News (Perth, WA : 1882 - 1950)|
|Trove Title||A Terrible Wrong|
A TERRIBLE ViiOXCK — ? -A.
By Mrs. Harriet Lswrs. Author of- Tke DoiMe Life.' Lord Darhvood's Crime,' fyc.
CHAPTER V. THROWN OX THE WORLD.
There was a moment's pause, full or deathly suspense. Then Mrs. Brown answered, her words slowly uttered, yet sounding like a knell of doom— ' '' She had no husband' !'
?Neither mother nor son spoke. ' You see,' said Mrs. Brown, 'the young man made a mock marraige with her, or some such thing, and deserted her before the child came. His name was Oswald. She told me that she did not know his real name or. rank. Probably he was some scoundrel who made his livW In
choating other people. He deserted - her at the last, and she ran away from the house where she had lived with him, and tried to drown herself, and wandered in the streets all night, till she fell down on my doorstep, where I found her in the morning, looking dead. We brought her in— my husband and I— and up to this room, and sent for the doctor. She lay in a stupor all day, and at night
_J-^_^ ' '«i^j uuiujw, yumiei — WHS P **?'' born!' A groan was wrung from the mother's white lips. ' Miss Queenie was delirious with fever for Wo months after, and called for 'mother' heartending,' said Mrs. Brown, wiping her eyes. / ' Alirl dirt nr.11,,,-1 t rV_ ? 1_1 ') 1 ? '
''' '«e tfincu. USWSUCl, TOO, 111 a way that would melt your heart. But she came to herself a month ago, and ])as ^een recovering rapj^ ever since. She has been out once or twice to ride, and to-day she went in a 'bus to the West-end Avith my Mary Ann, for the air and exercise, 'which I beg
ged her to ; and sorry enough I am now,' added the woman, 'things having turned out as they have.' 'What happened?' asked John Kedburn, his voice stained and uu natural. 'She and Mary Ann got out of the bus in Regent-street, to change to the return 'bus, and as they were standing on the kerb, waiting for their 'bus, along came a train of carriages witTi n Ivpiriol -no-iW-rr nru-«
bridal carriage stopped, along of some tangle ahead of it, and Mary Ann says that she and Miss Queenie look ed^ straight into the carriage. The bride was handsome and dressed splendid. ' The bridegroom was hand somer still— a perfect picture. At sight of Miss Queenie he turned white, and looked scared, while Miss Queenie sort of fainted. Mary Ann called a cab, someone. helped put Miss Queenie in it, and when she s-ot bnmfi
she looked as if she Avere dying. Hearing Mary Ann's story, after Miss Queenie revived,I made hold to ask her who the bridegroom was. She answered, 'I believe him to be my husband. He is the father of my child'!'' ? J A cry broke from John Redburn's bosom; but his mother sat dumb and tearless. 'I quieted Miss Queenie, and re
. ~.,vu. mwi, uxuu CV UUU IXXilitLj UUliLllltL' ed Mrs. Brown, ' and all was going on Avell, when the boy came with the note saying you were coming. Then Miss Queenie went wild again. She put on her hat — she had none when she camej though the night was bitter cold, _ but her fever kept her from freezing, I suppose — and rushed' down the street. She hasn't come back yet,' she added, anxiously. ''Where she's gone I can't imagine. She may be Waiting Outside till Trrm ammtio
being ashamed like- — ' The knocker on the house door sounded at this juncture. Mrs. Brown ran downstairs. No one was at the door, but as she open ed it a letter that had been thrust between the door and its frame flutter ed at her feet. It was addressed to Mrs. Redburn. She picked it up, and returned to the upper rooms. ' There was no one at the door ?? when I got there,' she explained.
' but this letter fell inside. ,It is for you, madam, and likely from Miss Queenie.' She delivered the missive. Mrs. Redbum tore it open with fingers still and cold, and read its contents, which ran as follows : — ' Mother. — By this time you know all. I have been walking up and ? down the street on the side opposite Mrs. Brown's in the hope of seeing you from afar off, but you are up in
my room, and 1 have waited in vain. I have come in the chemsist's'shop at the corner to write these lines* They areafarewell, mother —a last farewell. I have disgraced you, and John, and the name to which I was born. I shall never bear that name again, never see you and John so long as I live. I am an outcast ; the man I loved and honoured, and believed my husband is married to another woman, and I am a wretched outcast. Mother, 1 ask you to forgive me, though 1 know you never can. I have been uri nxmrt *--%-% r\ -Ci-»*-il Ci~«l-» 1^-.-. 4- T 4.1-. n-- __T_ J. ..11
, uii/ixGU. rtU.ll J.UU11S11, Ulllr X l/llUUgilli UU would come out well. I meant to Surprise and please you by my mar riage, but I have only broken your heart. ' I shall never return to Mrs. Brown's. I haye left her house and all who have known me for ever. I am poor, hopeless, wretched. I have forfeited your love and consideration, yet I beg you to care for my little child, my baby Dolores. She, at least, is sialess. Take her in my stead, if you can, mother, and I pray heaven she may grow up to be a better
cniici to you than 1 have been. I believe that you will not cast her off helpless and innocent. I give her to you. T shall never claim her, never come back to her or you. From this hour I am dead to you all. I shall not take my own life, but death will come soon, I hope, and heaven will be merciful. I am so sure that you will be kind to baby Dolores that I shall not take any further care about her. I love her, mother, but I am not fit to take charge of her. I am almost mad with my griefs. She has no name other than Dolores. Do not curse me, mother. Try to forgive and to forget your heart-broken and lost 'Queenie.' John Redbum took up the letter as it droppedfromhismother'sh'ngers, and he read it also to the end. 'When will Miss Queenie come
back ?' asked Mrs. Borwn, presently, with anxiety, ' Never !'.said Mrs. Redburn, slowly. 11 She has gone for good !' ' Then what is to be clone with the child ?' asked Mrs. Brown. ' Send it to the foundling,' said Mrs. Redbum, haughtily, her proud face growing harda- still. ' What is this nameless child to me P'gCJfJ!S ' Mother,'^ said John' Redburn, touched by his voune- sister's dfisnnir
ing letter, ' Queenie's child must not go to the Foundling while I have a penny. You love the baby, Mrs; Brown?' ' Like my own, sir, the little pre cious !' ' Keep her, then, until she is two years old. I will pay you. 1 will, then send her: elsewhere. She shall go to school, and be made a governess when she is old enouerh. It is not the
child's fault that she is mameless, and you and I, mother, cannot let Queenie's child become a public pau per, or even be driven to the bad. On what terms will you keep the child, Mrs. Brown?' The lodging house keeper named her terms, and John Redbum paid a half-year in advance. ' You understandphat this is a great disgrace 'to us,' said John Red bum, putting Queenie's letter in his pocket. 'Ours is an honest and honourable family, ma'am. Not a member of it ever disgraced it before. And I ask .you to keep this sad stoiy a secret, and not let my sister's name be spoken. As to the child, we need never own it at all, or we can pass
her off as a distant relative. Or, haply, she may die in childhood. That would be best if so it might be. Queenie will not return. Mother, we may as well go.' (To be continued.)