Part 46 (2/2)
”You have not heard any bad news, have you?” asked Miss Gladden apprehensively, noting the peculiar expression on Lyle's face.
”No,” the latter answered with a smile, ”it is about nothing regarding himself that I wish to see him, only something concerning myself.”
The door stood open into Houston's room, and Lyle could see him standing by the table, arranging some papers which he proceeded to sort and tie up in separate parcels.
In response to her light knock he glanced quickly around, and observing her unusual expression, advanced to meet her, thinking, as did Miss Gladden, that possibly she had heard something appertaining to the present situation of affairs at the camp.
”Good evening, Lyle, come in; you look as though you were the bearer of important news of some kind.”
”I have news,” she replied, ”though of importance only to myself; I need a little counsel, and was told to come to you.”
”You know, Lyle, I will only be too glad to give you any advice, or render any a.s.sistance within my power.”
”Thank you,” she answered, at the same time producing the little box and the letter. ”Leslie has probably told you of the manner in which I learned that the proofs as to my true parentage and my own ident.i.ty existed within this house, and of my search for them since that time.”
Houston bowed in a.s.sent.
”To-day,” she continued, ”my search proved successful, in so far as that I have discovered my own name, and also the proofs that I was stolen by that villain, Maverick, in a spirit of retaliation and revenge; but I have as yet no knowledge as to who or where my friends may be. Naturally, I took these proofs to Jack, and asked his advice as to the best course to pursue, and he has sent me to you.”
”I am more than glad to hear this, my dear Lyle,” responded Houston cordially; ”I have always felt a great interest in you, and it will give me much pleasure if I can a.s.sist you in finding your friends, and I shall appreciate it highly if Jack has intrusted me with this responsibility.”
Taking the locket from the box, Lyle handed it, unopen, to Houston, saying as she did so, ”This is the only clue I have by which to find my friends; it contains my mother's picture, and my own name,--Marjorie Lyle Washburn.”
”Washburn!” exclaimed Houston in surprise, pausing as he was about to open the locket. ”Washburn! Marjorie Washburn! That sounds familiar, both those names occur in my uncle's family, his wife and his daughter,--ah, I recall it now, that was the name of my cousin's little daughter. Strange!--what! what is this?” He had opened the locket and was gazing in astonishment at the beautiful face.
”This,--this is her picture, the picture of my cousin, Edna Cameron Washburn! What is the meaning of this?” And, unable to say anything further, he looked to Lyle for an explanation.
She, too, was nearly speechless with astonishment. ”What did you say was her name?” she stammered.
Houston repeated the name, while a strange light began to dawn in his face.
”She was my mother,” Lyle said simply. She could say nothing more, the walls of the little room seemed to be whirling rapidly about her, and she could see nothing distinctly.
Faintly, as though sounding far in the distance, she heard Houston's voice as he exclaimed:
”Can it be possible? and yet, you resemble her! Why have I never thought of it before? She had a little daughter Marjorie, whom we always supposed was killed in the wreck in which her own life was lost.”
”And this,” said Lyle, holding out the letter, but speaking with great effort, for the room was growing very dark, and a strange numbness seemed stealing over heart and brain, ”this tells that I was stolen from the side of my dead mother who was killed in a wreck--” She could get no farther, and she knew nothing of his reply. A thick darkness seemed to envelop her, fast shutting out all sense even of life itself. There was a sound for an instant like the deafening roar of waters surging about her, and then she seemed sinking down, down into infinite depths, until she lost all consciousness. For the first time in her life she had fainted.
Houston caught her as she was falling, and a moment later the little group outside were startled by his sudden appearance.
”Leslie,” he said, in quick, low tones, ”you and Morton come to my room. Lyle has fainted.”
”What is the trouble, Everard?” asked Ned, springing to his feet.
”Anything serious?”
”I think not,” was Houston's reply. ”Her fainting was the result of over-excitement. Come into my room, Ned, when she has revived, I think I have made a discovery in which we will all be interested.”
<script>