Part 13 (1/2)

How shall I ever thank you?

Marie.

I want you to do me one favor. Will you promise me?

George.

If it's in my power, certainly!

Marie.

Then I must first confess to you. A few moments ago, when papa questioned me, I deceived him. I was attacked last night--yes--but not by a man, but by a woman--a Lithuanian woman. George, that woman was my mother!

George.

But I understood your mother was dead.

Marie.

No, no; that is not so. Not one of you ever told me the truth. On the day of my confirmation I was waylaid by that very same woman--I cannot have been mistaken.

George.

Come, tell me, how did it happen?

Marie.

I was walking along quietly--'twas already dawning--when suddenly a gaunt form arose from the ditch beside the road. I looked, and saw before me a miserable beggarwoman, who called out to me in a trembling voice: ”Marie--Madame--Daughter!” I turned cold in fear and horror, and, unable to utter one sound, I began to run; and I ran, ran, ran, and behind me I only heard her agonizing call: ”My Marie--my daughter!”

And so, I ran away from my own mother. And now, after a few hours'

thought, I realize I did wrong. I must see her and speak to her, and learn from her own lips who and what I am; and as papa has forbidden me to leave this house--I would go in spite of him, but I have a fear--I beg of you, George, dear, go to her, I implore you, find her for me--she cannot be far away, and----

George.

And then?

Marie.

Then bring her to me, into the garden, or, better still, into this room towards evening, when papa and mama are calling on the old pastor----

George.

Marie, I cannot do that!

Marie.

The first time I ask a favor of you--and you say you cannot do it?

George.