True Riches; Or, Wealth Without Wings Part 32

"Why, mother," said she, "what can you mean? What do you want to know?"

"Your first recollection, dear?" returned Mrs. Claire, with an a.s.suring smile, although her heart was full, and it required the most active self-control to prevent her feelings from becoming manifest in her voice.

"Well, let me see! The first? The first? I was playing on the floor with a dear little baby? It was our Edie, wasn't it?"

"Yes--so far your memory is correct. I remember the time to which you refer as perfectly as if but a week had pa.s.sed. Now, dear, try if you can recall any thing beyond that."

"Beyond that, mother? Oh, why do you ask? You make me feel so strangely. Can it be that some things I have thought to be only the memory of dreams, are indeed realities?"

"What are those things, my child?"

"I have a dim remembrance of a pale, but beautiful woman who often kissed and caressed me--of being in a sick-room--of a strange confusion in the house--of riding in a carriage with father to a funeral. Mother! is there any thing in this; if so, what does it mean?"

"That woman, f.a.n.n.y," said Mrs. Claire, speaking with forced composure, "was your mother."

The face of the young girl grew instantly pale; her lips parted; and she gasped for breath. Then falling forward on the bosom of Mrs.

Claire, she sobbed--

"Oh, mother! mother! How can you say this? It cannot, it cannot be.

You are my own, my only mother."

"You did not receive your life through me, f.a.n.n.y," replied Mrs.

Claire, so soon as she could command her voice, for she too was overcome by feeling--"but in all else I am your mother; and I love you equally with my other children. If there has ever been a difference, it has all been in your favour."

"Why, why did you destroy the illusion under which I have so long rested?" said f.a.n.n.y, when both were more composed. "Why tell me a truth from which no good can flow? Why break in upon my happy ignorance with such a chilling revelation? Oh, mother, mother! Forgive me, if I say you have been cruel."

"Not so, my child. Believe me, that nothing but duty would have ever driven me to this avowal. You are now at woman's legal age. You have a guardian, in whose hands your father, at his death, left, for your benefit, some property; and this person now desires to settle the estate, and transfer to you what remains."

Bewildered, like one awakening from a dream, f.a.n.n.y listened to this strange announcement. And it was some time before she really comprehended her true position.

"Not your child--a guardian--property!--What does it all mean? Am I really awake, mother?"

"Yes, dear, you are awake. It is no dream, believe me," was the tender reply of Mrs. Claire. "But, remember, that all this does not diminish our love for you--does not remove you in the least from our affections. You are still our child, bound to us by a thousand intertwining chords."

But little more pa.s.sed between them at this interview. f.a.n.n.y asked for no more particulars, and Mrs. Claire did not think it necessary to give any further information. f.a.n.n.y soon retired to her own chamber, there to commune with her thoughts, and to seek, in tears, relief to her oppressed feelings.

The meeting of Claire with f.a.n.n.y, on his return home, was affecting.

She met him with a quivering lip and moistened eyes, and, as she laid her cheek against his breast, murmured in a sad, yet deeply affectionate voice--

"My father!"

"My own dear child!" quickly replied Claire, with emotion.

And then both stood for some time silent. Leading her to a seat, Claire said tenderly--

"I have always loved you truly, and now you are dearer to me than ever."

"My more than father," was her simple response.

"My own dear child!" said Mr. Claire, kissing her fondly. "We have ever blessed the day on which you came to us from G.o.d."

Words would only have mocked their feelings, and so but few words pa.s.sed between them, yet how full of thoughts crowding upon thoughts were their minds--how over-excited their hearts with new emotions of love.

After the younger members of the family had retired on that evening, Mr. and Mrs. Claire and f.a.n.n.y were alone together. All three were in a calmer state of mind. f.a.n.n.y listened with deep attention, her hand shading her countenance so as to conceal its varying expression, to a brief history of her parentage. Of things subsequent to the time of her entrance into her present home, but little was said. There was an instinctive delicacy on the part of Claire and his wife, now that f.a.n.n.y was about coming into the possession of property, which kept back all allusion to the sacrifices they had made, and the pain they had suffered on her account, in their contentions with her guardian.

In fact, this matter of property produced with them a feeling of embarra.s.sment. They had no mercenary thoughts in regard to it--had no wish to profit by their intimate and peculiar relation. And yet, restricted in their own income, and with a family growing daily more expensive, they understood but too well the embarra.s.sment which would follow, if any very important change were made in their present external relations. To explain every thing to f.a.n.n.y, would, they knew, lead to an instant tender of all she possessed. But this they could not do; nor had they a single selfish desire in regard to her property. If things could remain as they were, without injustice to f.a.n.n.y, they would be contented; but they were not altogether satisfied as to the amount they were receiving for her maintenance. It struck them as being too much; and they had more than once conferred together in regard to its reduction.

The first thing to be done was to make f.a.n.n.y comprehend her relation to Mr. Jasper, her guardian, and his wish to settle up the estate of her father, and transfer to her, or her representative, the property that remained in his hands.

"I will leave all with you, father," was the very natural response made to this. "All I have is yours. Do just as you think best."

On the next day a power of attorney in the name of Edward Claire was executed; and, as Jasper was anxious to get the business settled, every facility thereto was offered. Claire examined the will of Mr.

Elder, in which certain property was mentioned, and saw that it agreed with the guardian's statement. All the accounts were scrutinized; and all the vouchers for expenditure compared with the various entries.

Every thing appeared correct, and Claire expressed himself entirely satisfied. All legal forms were then complied with; and, in due time, the necessary doc.u.ments were prepared ready for the signature of Claire, by which Jasper would be freed from the nervous anxiety he had for years felt whenever his thoughts went forward to this particular point of time.

On the evening preceding the day when a consummation so long and earnestly looked for was to take place, Jasper, with his mind too much absorbed in business troubles to mingle with his family, sat alone in his library, deeply absorbed in plans and calculations. His confidence in fortune and his own prudence had been growing weaker, daily; and now it seemed to him as if a great darkness were gathering all around.

He had fully trusted in himself; alas! how weak now seemed to him his human arm; how dim the vision with which he would penetrate the future. He was mocked of his own overweening and proud confidence.

This was his state of mind when a servant came to the library-door, and announced a gentleman who wished to see him.

"What is his name?" asked Jasper.

"He said it was no difference. He was a friend."

"It might make a great difference," Jasper muttered in an undertone.

"Show him up," he said aloud.

The servant retired, and Jasper waited for his visitor to appear. He was not long in suspense. The door soon reopened, and a man, poorly clad, and with a face bearing strong marks of intemperance and evil pa.s.sions, came in.

"You do not know me," said he, observing that the merchant, who had risen to his feet, did not recognise him.

Jasper shook his head.

"Look closer." There was an air of familiarity and rude insolence about the man.

"Martin!" exclaimed Jasper, stepping back a few paces. "Is it possible!"

"Quite possible, friend Jasper," returned the man, helping himself to a chair, and sinking into it with the air of one who felt himself at home.

Surprise and perplexity kept the merchant dumb for some moments. He would quite as lief have been confronted with a robber, pistol in hand.

"I do not wish to see you, Martin," said he, at length, speaking in a severe tone of voice. "Why have you intruded on me again? Are you not satisfied? Have you no mercy?"

"None, Leonard Jasper, none," replied the man scowling. "I never knew the meaning of the word--no more than yourself."

"You are nothing better than a robber," said the merchant, bitterly.

"I only share with bolder robbers their richer plunder," retorted the man.