For Woman's Love Part- 2 by Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth (i love reading books txt) 📕

House,  Destitute And Degraded."

"I Don't Care If I Should Be! Do You Think Me Quite A Baby In Your

Hands? I Have Been Reflecting Since You Have Been Talking To Me. I Have

Been Remembering That You Told Me That The Law Gives The Widow One Third

Of Her Late Husband's Property When He Dies Intestate,  And Entitles Her

To It,  No Matter What Sort Of A Will He Makes."

"Unless There Has Been A Settlement,  My Angel," Said Mr. Fabian,

Composedly.

"Well,  There Has Been No Settlement In My Case. So Whether Aaron

Rockharrt Should Die Intestate,  Or Whether He Should Make A Will,  I Am

Sure Of My Lawful Third. So I Defy You,  Mr. Fabian Rockharrt. You May

Denounce Me To Your Father He May Turn Me Out Of Doors Without A Penny,

And 'Without A Character,' As The Servants Say,  But He Cannot Divorce

Me,  Because I Have Been Faithful To Him Ever Since Our Marriage. I Could

Compel Him By Law To Support Me,  Even Though He Might Not Let Me Share

His Home. He Would Be Obliged By Law To Give Me Alimony In Proportion To

His Income,  And,  Oh! What A Magnificent Revenue That Would Be For

Me--With Freedom From His Tyranny Into The Bargain! And At His Death,

Which Could Not Be Long Coming At His Age,  And After Such A Shock As His

Dutiful Son Proposes To Give Him,  I Should Come In For My Third. And,

Oh,  Where So Rich A Widow As I Should Be! With Forty Or Fifty Years Of

Life Before Me In Which To Enjoy My Fortune! Ah,  You See,  My Clever Mr.

Fabian Rockharrt,  Though You Frightened Me Out Of Self-Possession At

First,  When I Come To Think Over The Situation,  I Find That You Can Do

Me No Great Harm. If You Should Put Your Threats In Execution And Bring

About A Violent Separation Between Myself And My Husband,  You Would Do

Me A Signal Favor,  For I Should Gain My Personal Freedom,  With A

Handsome Alimony During His Life,  And At His Death A Third Of His Vast

Estate," She Concluded,  Snapping Her Fingers In His Face.

"I Think Not."

"Yes; I Would."

"No; You Would Not."

"Indeed! Why Would I Not,  Pray?" She Inquired,  With Mocking

Incredulity.

"Oh,  Because Of A Mere Trifle In Your Code Of Morals--An Insignificant

Impediment."

"Tchut!" She Exclaimed,  Contemptuously. "Do You Think Me Quite An

Idiot?"

"I Think You Would Be Much Worse Than An Idiot If,  In Case Of My

Father's Discarding You,  You Should Move An Inch Toward Obtaining

Alimony Or In The Case Of The Coveted 'Third.'"

"Pshaw! Why,  Pray?"

"Because You Have Not,  And Never Can Have,  The Shadow Of A Right To

Either."

"Bah! Why Not?"

"Because--Alfred Whyte Is Living!"

She Caught Her Breath And Gazed At The Speaker With Great Dilating Blue

Eyes.

"What--Do--You--Mean?" She Faltered.

"Alfred Whyte,  Your Husband Of Twenty Years Ago,  Is Still Living And

Likely To Live--A Very Handsome Man Of Forty Years Old,  Residing At His

Magnificent Country Seat,  Whyte Hall,  Dulwich,  Near London."

"Married Again?" She Whispered,  Hoarsely.

"Certainly Not; An English Gentleman Does Not Commit Bigamy."

"How Did You--Become Acquainted--With These Facts?"

"I Was Sufficiently Interested In You To Seek Him Out,  When I Was In

England. I Discovered Where He Lived; Also That He Was Looking Out For

The Best Investment Of His Idle Capital. I Called On Him Personally In

The Interests Of Our Great Enterprise. He Is Now A Member Of The London

Syndicate."

"Did You Speak--Of Me?"

"Never Mentioned Your Name. How Could I,  Knowing As I Did Of The

Stillwater Episode In Your Story?"

"And He Lives! Alfred Whyte Lives! Oh,  Misery,  Misery,  Misery! Evil Fate

Has Followed Me All The Days Of My Life," Moaned Rose,  Wringing Her

Hands.

"Now,  Why Should You Take On So,  Because Whyte Is Living? Would You Have

Had That Fine,  Vigorous Man,  In The Prime Of His Life,  Die For Your

Benefit?"

"But I Thought He Was Dead Long Ago."

"You Were Too Ready To Believe That,  And To Console Yourself. He Was

More Faithful To Your Memory."

"How Do You Know? You Said My Name Was Never Mentioned Between You."

"Not From Him,  But From A Mutual Acquaintance,  Of Whom I Asked How It

Was That Mr. Whyte Had Never Married,  I Heard That He Had Grieved For

Her Out Of All Reason And Had Ever Remained Faithful To The Memory Of

His First And Only Love. My Own Inference Was,  And Is,  That The Report

Of Your Death Was Got Up By His Friends To Break Off The Connection."

"And You Never Told This 'Mutual Friend' That I Still Lived?"

"How Could I,  My Dear,  With My Knowledge Of Your Stillwater Affair? No,

No; I Was Not Going To Disturb The Peace Of A Good Man By Telling Him

That His Child-Wife Of Twenty Years Ago Was Still Living,  But Lost To

Him By A Fall Far Worse Than Death. No--I Let You Remain Dead To Him."

"Oh,  Misery! Misery! Misery! I Would To Heaven I Were Dead To Everybody!

Dead,  Dead Indeed!" She Cried,  Wringing Her Hands In Anguish.

"Come,  Come,  Don't Be A Fool! You See That You Are Utterly In My Power

And Must Do My Will. Do It,  And You Will Come To No Harm; But Live And

Die In A Luxurious Home."

While The Amiable Mr. Fabian Was Engaged In Soothing The Woman Whom He

Was Resolved To Make His Instrument In Gaining The Whole Of His Father's

Great Business Bequeathed To Him By Will,  Carriage Wheels Were Heard

Grating On The Gravel Of The Drive Leading Up To The Front Door Of The

House,  And A Few Minutes Afterward The Master's Knock Was Answered By

The Hall Waiter,  And Old Aaron Rockharrt Strode Into The Drawing Room.

"I Did Not Know That You Had Gone Out Again. I Left You On The Library

Sofa Asleep," Said Rose,  Deferentially,  As She Sprang Up To Meet Him.

"I Was Called Out On Business That Don't Concern You. Ah,  Fabian! How Is

It That I Find You Here To-Night?" Inquired The Iron King,  As He Threw

Himself Into A Chair.

"I Brought Cora Home From The Banks," Replied The Eldest Son.

"Ah! How Is Mrs. Fabian?"

"Still Delicate. I Can Scarcely Hope That She Will Be Stronger For Some

Weeks Yet."

"When Are You Going To Bring Her To Call On My Wife?" Demanded The Iron

King,  Bending His Gray Brows Somewhat Angrily And Looking Suspiciously

On His Son; For He Was Not Pleased That His Daughter-In-Law's Visit Of

Ceremony Had Been So Long Delayed.

"As Soon As She Is Able To Leave The House. Our Physician Has Forbidden

Her To Take Any Long Walk Or Ride For Some Time Yet."

"And How Long Is This Seclusion To Last?"

"Until After A Certain Event To Take Place At The End Of Three Months."

"Ah! And Then Another Month For Convalescence! So It Will Be Late In The

Autumn Before We Can Hope To See Mrs. Fabian Rockharrt At Rockhold!"

"I Fear So,  Indeed,  Sir!"

"I Do Not Approve Of This Petting,  Coddling,  And Indulging Women. It

Makes The Weak Creatures Weaker. If You Choose To Seclude Your Wife Or

Allow Her To Seclude Herself On Account Of A Purely Physiological

Condition,  I Will Not Allow Mrs. Rockharrt To Go Near Her Until She Goes

To Return Her Call."

When Cora Reached Her Chamber That Evening,  She Sat Down To Reflect On

All That Her Uncle Fabian Had Told Her Of The Past History Of Her

Grandfather's Young Wife,  And To Anticipate The Possible Movements Of

Her Brother. Her Own Life,  Since The Loss Of Her Husband--Now Loved So

Deeply,  Though Loved Too Late--She Felt Was Over. The Future Had Nothing

For Herself. What,  Therefore,  Could She Do With The Dull Years In Which

She Might Long Vegetate Through Life But To Give Them In Useful Service

To Those Who Needed Help? She Would Go With Her Brother To The Frontier,

And Find Some Field Of Labor Among The Indians. She Would Found A School

With Her Fortune,  And Devote Her Life To The Education Of Indian

Children. And She Would Call The School By Her Lost Husband's Name,  And

So Make Of It A Monument To His Memory.

Revolving These Plans In Her Mind,  Cora Rothsay Retired To Rest. The

Next Morning She Arose At Her Usual Hour,  Dressed,  And Went Down Stairs.

Old Aaron Rockharrt And His Young Wife Were Already In The Parlor,

Waiting For The Breakfast Bell To Ring.

She Had But Just Greeted Them When The Call Came,  And All Moved Toward

The Breakfast Room.

Just As The Three Had Seated Themselves At The Table,  And While Rose

Was Pouring Out The Coffee,  The Sound Of Carriage Wheels Was Heard

Approaching The House,  And A Few Minutes Later Mr. Clarence And Sylvan

Entered The Breakfast Room With Joyous Bustle.

"What--What--What Does This Unseemly Excitement Mean?" Sternly Demanded

The Iron King,  While Cora Arose To Shake Hands With Her Uncle And

Brother; And While Rose,  Fearful Of Doing Wrong,  Did Nothing At All.

"What Is The Matter? What Has Happened? Why Have You Left The Works At

This Hour Of The Morning,  Clarence?" He Requested Of His Son.

"I Came With Sylvan,  Sir,  For The Last Time Before He Leaves Us For

Distant And Dangerous Service,  And For An Unlimited Period."

"Ah! You Have Your Orders,  Then?" Said Mr. Rockharrt,  In A Somewhat

Mollified Tone.

"Yes,  Sir," Said The Young Lieutenant. "I Received My Commission By The

Earliest Mail This Morning,