“great heaven! what is the matter, miss hattie?” he cried, as he saw her face turn whiter and whiter, and her tall, graceful form totter and reel as if stricken by a fearful blow.
“my mother is dying,” she gasped, “and i far away, with forgiveness not passed between us,” and she sank shivering into the chair from which she had arisen.
and now, in a flash of thought, mr. w—— remembered where he had seen those initials before. they were on the clasp of the portfolio which held her drawings. undoubtedly they were the initials of her real name, and all this time she had been to him only hattie butler.
“miss hattie, how can i assist you? if you desire it, i will escort you anywhere you wish to go, leaving when you desire, waiting for you, and keeping sacredly any secret you may share with me.”
“oh, mr. w——, you are so good. do not believe me wicked, or reveal it, if i tell you that my real name is embraced in those initials—that no wrong doing of my own caused me to hide it under another, but that i sought to escape persistent annoyance on a subject i may not name now—sought to evade a demand which wealthy and worldly parents made of me.”
“miss hattie, i would stake my life on your goodness, that every action of your life has been pure, and marked by the noblest of purposes. now, tell me what i must or can do for you.”
[163]
“grant me leave to absent myself a little while. it may be two or three days—it can hardly be less—it may be longer, and while i am gone, please go to mr. legare’s and explain to him and his family that i was called away at almost a moment’s notice. i must take the four o’clock boat for boston. i will have time to go to my boarding-house, settle my bill, and then i can take a carriage for the boat.”
“may i not escort you there?”
“for both our sakes, it will be better not. i will be safe in a carriage and in the open light of day. do not fear. and, mr. w——, i will, when i come back, if you are not gone to california, tell you all. i will withhold nothing from so good, so true a friend. i go to the bedside of a dying mother. that is what that notice calls me to. i will not condemn that mother at this hour. but it was her pride and obstinacy that forced me into a strange city to earn my daily bread.”
“do you not need more money?” asked mr. w——.
“no, sir; i have enough in bills on my person, and some in bank if i needed more; and i hold mr. legare’s munificent check for those drawings. i need nothing, mr. w——, but your belief in my honor and truth—your kind sympathy.”
“you have both, dear miss hattie—both to the fullest extent. go, and heaven shield and bless you. you will surely return?”
“yes, and take my place here, no matter what occurs. here will i stay until you return from california, and the result of your mission is made known to me.”
“thank you, miss hattie. i will not detain you longer, for you will have but little time for preparation and to reach the boat. this evening i will go[164] to mr. legare’s, and simply explain that you were called away by the sickness of a relative.”
“thank you; that will be enough. tell them i will go to see them when i return.”
a grasp of the hand, a tearful good-by, and the honest, noble man, the pure, truthful woman, were apart—he standing gloomily alone in his office, she on her way, walking fast, toward her boarding-house.
entering that, she found biddy, marguerite, and miss scrimp all in the kitchen.
she handed miss scrimp the amount of her board for the week, then giving her the additional dollar for her silk dress, she said:
“i pay my part of the proposed subscription for the silk dress, miss scrimp.” then turning to biddy lanigan, she said: “you have always been very good to me, biddy. here is a five dollar bill for you to use as you choose.”
“long life an’ more power to ye, ye born angel!” cried biddy; “who could help bein’ kind to the likes o’ you? sure there’s not a lady in the land can hold her head higher than your own.”
“thank you, biddy. now, miss scrimp, i am going away for a few days, and shall lock up my room, for i leave my trunk, books, and everything except my little hand-satchel there.”
“sakes alive! where be you a-goin’?”
“to visit a sick relative, and i shall return as soon as i can.”
“sakes alive!”
those were the last words hattie heard as she turned and hurried to her room.
half an hour later she came down dressed in a traveling suit of heavy brown pongee, with a bonnet[165] and shawl literally worth more than the entire wardrobe of miss scrimp, her dress and her bearing that of a lady.
“sakes alives! who’d have thought she had such clothes here,” was miss scrimp’s exclamation, as her “cheapest boarder,” as she had called her more than once, left the door.
