Part 42 (1/2)

Lillian obeyed and sprang with light step up the stairway and entered her mother's room. She was sitting by the window while Mrs. Jackson was putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches to her toilet, for, weak as were her faculties, pride had not become inactive. Her dress must be perfect and her adornings ample as in other days.

”How nicely you are looking this beautiful morning,” said the daughter, adjusting the rich lace at the throat. ”All ready for company I see--whom shall I invite?”

The large eyes looked steadily into the beaming face for a moment, then as they turned languidly away said, hesitatingly: ”Charles.”

”You want to see your boy, don't you Mother? Well you shall if he can be found! He was at Uncle Stanley's the last I heard of him. We will look him up by and by.” A smile darted quickly over the pale face.

”Is there no one else you would like to see? What if Pearl should come; shall I bring him to you?” Again the eyes darted a keen glance into the inquiring face. ”You will love him; he is so good and forgiving!”

”Forgive? No! no! Pearl,--Can he forgive?” And the tears came into her eyes.

”He will forgive! It is all over now, and we are very happy. Let me bring him to you, and from his own lips you shall hear it. May I?”

”No! no! I was wicked, cruel! He cannot, no, he cannot!” And the stately head dropped wearily upon her hand, while the elbow rested on the arm of her easy chair.

”How nice that dainty cap, with its bright ribbons, makes you look. He will be proud of our mother, and it will make me so happy!”

”You happy?”

”Yes, Mother; your Lillian; may I go for him?”

There was a long pause, for the poor brain was struggling with itself, as one battles with sleep when the morning dawns. The answer came at last.

”Yes, go get--Pearl. I am ready!”

Lillian smoothed the soft dark hair, petted her sunken cheek with her white hand, and, as she kissed the broad forehead, remarked playfully, ”You are as pretty as a young girl waiting for her lover.”

She encountered her husband just outside the door. ”Come in,” she said, ”Mother is waiting to see you”; and, for the first time Pearl Hamilton stood in the presence of Mrs. Belmont.

With a quick step he approached her chair, and kneeling at her feet, said gently, ”Mother, bless your son, it was I who disappointed you, I who tempted you to do wrong; will you forgive me? There have been dark clouds, but they are gone now; put your hand on my head and call me Pearl, this will make us happy.”

She did not move or raise her hand, but sat motionless as a marble statue, with her gaze riveted on the upturned face.

Lillian took the thin hand and laid it tenderly on the bowed head as she whispered, ”forgive him, Mother.”

”No, no!” she exclaimed, drawing it quickly back. ”Forgive? I did not know! See! there is no blood on my hand; look!” and she held it up before the wondering suppliant, who turned his inquiring eyes towards his trembling wife.

”I did not do it!” she continued; ”'twas the sea--the wicked sea!

Forgive? O G.o.d! But He will not hear me! I did not do it!” and the head sank back upon its resting place.

”I ought not to have come; how her mind wanders!” whispered Colonel Hamilton, rising.

”Mother, listen to me,” said Lillian, taking the hand which lay so motionless on the rich dress, ”I know there is no blood there, for the sea was not wicked, and the little boat was taken care of by the precious One, who will hear when you call. There is much for you to know that will make you happy; but first let us brush the cobwebs out of the present. Old Vina would say, 'Bress de Lord for what ye now hab,' and you have not made me happy yet by receiving and loving my husband. Open your arms, Mother, to your son, for he is waiting.”

She raised her head, and with outstretched arms said, plaintively, ”My son, my son!”

The strong arms of love and forgiveness were thrown about her, and, weary as a child, she laid her head upon his shoulder and remained motionless as a sleeping infant. He would not disturb her and the moments went slowly by.

”Put me on the bed,” she said at last; ”the sea!--O the sea!”