Dainty's Cruel Rivals; Or, The Fatal Birthday

As the winter wore away and no more was heard of Dainty or her mother, they confidently looked on the girl as dead; but if their consciences reproached them for their sin, they allowed no sign of it to appear on their careless faces as they plunged into every gayety offered by their new position. The winter had been an epoch in their hitherto poverty-stricken lives, and they made the most of it, Mrs. Ellsworth giving them a lavish allowance, and permitting them to travel with friends wherever they chose.

Thus they had had a trip to California in December, and on returning in February had been given glimpses of the gay season in New York and Washington before returning in March to silent, gloomy Ellsworth, where the mistress had remained inflexibly on guard over her step-son, lest the doctors, peradventure, should do something to restore his mind.

"That meddlesome old Doctor Platt keeps on hoping for something to happen. The other physicians have given it up, and say that Love will be an idiot for life. He is sure that if the bullet could be removed, he would be restored; but I will not permit them to cut into the poor boy's head, and perhaps destroy his life as well as his reason," she often complained, until the old doctor gave up all hopes of gaining her consent to the operation that he wished performed.

But he still came to visit Love in a friendly way, although the young man continued in the same state of seeming hopeless idiocy, never improving with the lapse of time, until, in desperation, the old man, with Franklin's assistance, concocted a daring scheme.

He had read with contempt and abhorrence the mind of the woman, and knew that she wished to keep her step-son in his present state, and that no proposition looking to his cure would be entertained by the selfish creature who wished to keep her grip on the young man's property. She would rather see him dead than restored to his rich dower of brains and wealth.

So when, late in March, she was first informed by Franklin, and afterward by Doctor Platt himself, of a change for the worse in the patient, she was more pleased than sorry.

Love's condition was changing, they said, from simple idiocy to active insanity that would necessitate his removal from Ellsworth to a place of close confinement.

"He may develop at any moment a homicidal mania, and prove terribly dangerous to his attendants. Indeed, Franklin has grown nervous already over some of his more violent moods, and threatens to resign his place," said Doctor Platt.

This was indeed most welcome news for Mrs. Ellsworth. Nothing except Love's death could have pleased her better.

Though she had been fond of him once, his opposition to her will, and his contempt of her two favorite nieces, had turned her lukewarm fondness to active hate.

So it was hard for her to assume a look of concern when it was all she could do to keep from openly rejoicing. She dropped her face in her hands to keep the keen old doctor from openly reading its expression.

"It is a very delicate and peculiar case," continued Doctor Platt. "You can not place him in an idiot asylum, because he is not now an idiot—yet his lunacy is not developed enough to commit him for lunacy. At the same time, he may become violent at any time and—do murder! It is not right to keep him at Ellsworth with such terrible risks attached to his staying. I have a plan, if you choose to consider it. If not, you may consult other physicians."

"Let me hear your plan first," she answered, affably, in her secret joy.

"Let me take him to a private sanitarium in New York, well known to me as the best place in the United States for a person in his condition. It is a high-priced place, but you can afford it for the sake of the relief of mind you would experience in removing this threatening danger from Ellsworth, and in knowing that his hopelessly incurable insanity had the kindest treatment."

Those two words caught her instant attention.

"You honestly believe him hopelessly insane?" she cried.

"Yes," he replied; saying, inwardly: "God forgive me for lying, but it is in a righteous cause!"

In fact, he was quaking with fear lest she should suspect the motive lying at the bottom of his anxiety to take his patient to New York.

If she had been a well-read woman, he would have been afraid to risk such a plot; but he knew that she scarcely ever scanned the columns of a newspaper.

Otherwise she would have been cognizant of the new scientific discovery, one of the greatest of the nineteenth century triumphs, and most important to the medical cult—the discovery of the wonderful X-ray of light by the famous German savant, Professor Roentgen.

She would have known that by the operation of this X-ray the formerly dense human body could be made transparent enough to be seen through, revealing not only the skeleton with all its delicate mechanism, but the presence of every foreign element, so that already bullets had been located and removed from the bodies of patients who had suffered tortures from them for years. These wonderful facts filled the columns of newspapers and the pages of magazines. The whole world was wild with enthusiasm. It was the greatest and most beneficial discovery of the nineteenth century, they said, and Professor Roentgen's thoughtful brow was laureled with a fame that made him greater than a king.

Mrs. Ellsworth had never read a line about the X-ray. If you had asked her she would not have understood what you meant.

But every fiber of the intelligent old doctor's body vibrated with joy of the new discovery, and the hope that through its means his patient might be restored to health.

The dream that he dreamed night and day was to carry Lovelace Ellsworth to New York and have the bullet in his head located by means of the wonderful X-ray.

"Once located it might in all probability be removed, and your master restored to himself," he said confidentially to the clever Franklin, who rejoiced exceedingly at this little ray of hope in the darkness of his master's fate.

But realizing the deep interest Mrs. Ellsworth had in preventing Love's restoration to reason, they knew it was useless to tell her of the new discovery with any hope of her consent to having any experiment tried on her step-son.

Nothing remained to them but strategy, and they resorted to its use with flattering success.

Mrs. Ellsworth had had so many triumphs, that she regarded this one as only her due—a reward of her clever plotting, as it were.

The removal of Love to a sanitarium would be a great relief to her mind; and she jumped at the proposition with alacrity, even twitting the old doctor with her superior judgment.

"I told you all along that you were foolish ever to expect his recovery, and you see I was right."

"The women are always right," he replied, gallantly, in his joy at having gained his point.

So armed with a liberal check from her hand, the old doctor and Franklin journeyed to New York with the patient, in the hope of restoring his wrecked mind and of righting a great wrong.

For, removed from the influence of Mrs. Ellsworth's threat, the faithful servant decided that he would keep silence no longer. He confided to Doctor Platt the pathetic story of Dainty's return to Ellsworth, her claim to be Love's wife, her banishment by her wicked aunt, the wrong that Olive and Ela had attempted, and lastly, how, at the peril of his own life, he had rescued the poor girl from the burning cabin, and sent her away secretly to Richmond.

Doctor Platt listened aghast to these startling disclosures, and said, angrily:

"You should not have been intimidated by that wicked woman's threats, for such crimes as hers and her nieces' should be proclaimed from the house-tops, and punished as they deserve. I would give anything I own if you had brought that worse than widowed bride to me and given me the task of righting her cruel wrongs."

"She is no doubt safe with her mother, and your help now will be as welcome as it would have been last fall," replied Franklin, consolingly. So they postponed the search for the girl, who was presumably safe in Richmond, until after they had taken Lovelace to the New York doctors for treatment.

By the middle of April they met with a reward of their labors and the realization of their hopes in the complete success of the X-ray experiment on Love.

The murderer's bullet had not entered the victim's brain. It was imbedded in the thick part of the skull, and its pressure on the brain had benumbed the intellectual faculties, producing all the phenomena of idiocy.

A very delicate surgical operation removed the cause of trouble, and Lovelace Ellsworth took up life instantly again where he had left it off at the moment when the fatal bullet had pierced his head.

"My friends, I am here to tell you that a foul crime has been perpetrated; but the design of the guilty party will not succeed, thanks to precautions that I took two weeks ago in the fear of this treachery. My precious Dainty has been stolen away in the hope of preventing our marriage this morning, and a false story has been circulated that she has eloped with another. But Mrs. Ellsworth has overreached herself in her eagerness to forward the interests of Miss Peyton and Miss Craye. She will realize this fact when she hears that I was married secretly to Dainty Chase two weeks ago, and—" Here he rolled his large dark eyes around the room, and gave a start of surprise, faltering, "Where are they all—my wedding guests?"

The moment had come when he must learn all the cruel truth.

But they broke it to him as gently and favorably as they could, leaving out all of the worst, to be told when he was strong and well again.

The result was a terrible agitation, coupled with a passionate yearning to go at once in search of his missing bride.

But that was impossible, said the doctors. He must remain quietly at the hospital until the incision they had made in his head healed.

He took counsel with his noble friend, Doctor Platt, and the result was that two personals were sent to the leading newspapers of Virginia and West Virginia. One personal asked for news of the whereabouts of Miss Dainty Chase; the other for information regarding a marriage license issued in July to Lovelace Ellsworth and Dainty Chase. In both cases large rewards were offered, and the address was given fictitiously as "Fidelio, New York City."

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

GOOD NEWS

The two personals caught the eyes of Ailsa Scott the eighteenth day of April, as she was tying up a bundle in a copy of The Richmond Times several days old.

Her sad thoughts had been fixed on Dainty; for only to-day Miss White had called to acquaint her with Dainty's flight.

She had also mentioned the girl's bad behavior and delicate condition, blaming Ailsa for having recommended such a girl to her favor.

The young girl's brown eyes flashed with resentment as she answered:

"Miss White, I will not allow you to speak unkindly of my dear friend. She was very unhappy, I know, and, to speak plainly, I suspected her condition some time ago; but I would not wound her feelings by referring to it, hoping that she would see fit to explain matters herself later on. But she is a noble girl, and I have not lost confidence in her by what you tell me, for I believe Dainty was secretly married, and that the truth will come out some day."

"Perhaps you know where she is now? I feel very uneasy over her fate, and am sorry now that I spoke so harshly to the poor girl in my surprise!" exclaimed Miss White, softening under the influence of Ailsa's loving faith.

"Sorrow will not bring her back now. You should have shown a more Christian spirit to the unhappy girl, and perhaps she might have given you her confidence, showing you that she was not as bad as you thought. But I do not know where she is. You know, Miss White, I have had to nurse the dear little children through bad colds, and have not seen Dainty for over two weeks. Perhaps the poor girl thought I had forsaken her, too," added Ailsa, bursting into tears.

Miss White was a weak woman, but not a cruel one. Ailsa's distress moved her to such keen sympathy that she wept too, declaring that if only she could find the sweet, unfortunate child she would make amends for her unkindness.

"If you hear from her you'll let me know, Ailsa, won't you? And I shall tell Mr. Sparks he did wrong to try to turn me against Dainty. She is a good girl, I believe, after all, and I'll stand her friend, even after I'm married, if she will forgive me for last night," she said, before she went away.

Ailsa wept most bitterly, for she feared that it would be long ere she saw Dainty's sweet face again.

"She thinks I have forsaken her, and she will be too proud to let me know where she is," she thought.

Then came the startling discovery of the personals offering a reward for news of Dainty Chase, and of the marriage license that had been granted to her and Love Ellsworth.

Ailsa hunted up the back numbers of the newspapers, and found that the personals had been running more than a week, and that they were inserted in all the city journals.

She thought:

"Fidelio—that means faithful—so it must be some dear friend of Dainty's that wants to find her so badly—perhaps her husband; for I am bound to believe she was secretly married. So I will write to Fidelio, and tell him all I know of the dear girl's fate."

On the same day, almost the same hour, a pretty, sad-faced woman at the insane asylum in Staunton sat reading the same personals in some newspapers the matron had given her that morning.

It was Mrs. Chase, and a great change had come over the sweet little woman. In fact, the doctors and attendants declared that she was quite well of her suicidal mania, and that at the next meeting of the board of directors, on the twentieth of April, her discharge would be asked for as a cured woman. Every one would be sorry to see her go, she was so gentle and refined and helpful now, and the violence of her first sorrow had subsided into patient, uncomplaining resignation.

But the strangest thing about her was that she did not seem to have a friend in the world. No one ever came to see her or wrote to inquire how she was. They wondered where she would go when she was discharged.

One of the new supervisors, a pale, middle-aged woman in widow's weeds, passed through the ward when Mrs. Chase was reading the papers, and found her weeping violently. She stopped, and asked kindly what was the matter.

"Read these personals and I will tell you," was the sobbing reply.

The supervisor, Mrs. Middleton by name, obeyed, and cried out in surprise:

"How very, very strange!"

"Is it not?" cried Mrs. Chase, pathetically. "You see, that girl, Dainty Chase, is my own child. I went crazy about her, they say; but between you and me, Mrs. Middleton, I don't believe I ever was really insane, you know, only just wild and hysterical over my lost child, fearing her cruel enemies had killed her, and if only they had not shut me up in this place, I believe I should have found her long ago. If you had time to listen, I would like to tell you my whole sad story."

"I will take time, for I am more deeply interested than you can possibly guess," said the kind supervisor.

"Did you ever hear anything so sad? And is it any wonder that I temporarily lost my mind and tried to throw away my life?" cried Mrs. Chase; adding: "Is it not strange that the search for Dainty is being revived now? It would almost seem as if Lovelace Ellsworth has recovered the use of his senses."

"Perhaps the bullet in his head has been discovered by the use of that wonderful X-ray we have been reading about in the newspapers. It must be so, for who else could have an interest in that marriage license?" exclaimed the supervisor, excitedly; adding: "I have something wonderful to tell you, Mrs. Chase. I am the widow of the preacher that married your daughter to Lovelace Ellsworth, and I have in my possession the license and the certificate of marriage, given me by my husband to keep until called for. And I also witnessed the marriage ceremony, peeping through the vestry door, as Mr. Middleton said there ought really to be one witness, although the young pair insisted not. But now you see how important it was, for my husband died soon after, and in my grief I forgot all about the secret marriage till recalled to memory of it by this personal. So now I shall write to this Fidelio with my good news, and tell him all about your case too, poor thing!"

CHAPTER XXXIX.

"FOR ALL ETERNITY."

Ah, what ineffable joy those two letters of Mrs. Middleton and Ailsa Scott carried to the heart of Fidelio in New York!—joy that his darling still lived, and that the proof of their marriage could be so readily obtained, to confound the woman who thought herself secure in the enjoyment of his wealth.

And who could blame him that he wept like a woman on reading Ailsa's long letter, telling all she knew of Dainty's fate, not concealing the fact that had caused her banishment from the dressmaker's house?

"Dear little wife, soon to be the mother of my child! Oh, heavens! what must she not have suffered in her lonely grief! Oh, we must find her quickly, and take her home to Ellsworth!" he cried, passionately, to his friends, who agreed with him in everything.

Letters were hastily forwarded to Ailsa and Mrs. Middleton, thanking them for their information and saying that "Fidelio," who was ill in New York, hoped to be well enough to travel soon, and would make a personal call on them within the week.

Happiness made his recovery so swift that within a week he was able to leave New York for Richmond, accompanied by Doctor Platt and the faithful Franklin.

He hurried to Ailsa's humble home at once, and the lovely girl wept for joy at the wonderful story he had to tell her about his own and Dainty's trials, that he hoped would soon be happily ended.

"How I thank you for your noble faith in my poor girl, when all the world was against her, I can not express in mere words; but I shall rejoice in my ability to supplement it by a solid reward as soon as I am reinstated in my property," he exclaimed, as he wrung her hand in passionate gratitude.

But Ailsa protested that she wished for no reward beyond the pleasure of continuing her friendship with her dear school-mate and friend.

"You shall come to live at Ellsworth, and be our dear sister, if you will," he exclaimed, generously; and the young girl smiled happily as she answered:

"I shall be very happy to come and spend my vacation with Dainty this summer."

Then they discussed the mystery of Dainty's whereabouts. Ailsa told him she had inquired all around, but could not get any clew at all.

"Sometimes I think she may have returned to West Virginia," she said; but Love shuddered at the idea lest his darling had fallen into some new trap set by her enemies.

After two days in Richmond, he was informed by the private detective he had put on the case that Dainty had indeed left the city—a young girl answering her description having bought a ticket at the Chesapeake and Ohio railway station for West Virginia on the night of the last of March.

"We must go at once! Heaven only knows what new evil has befallen my poor love, thus venturing alone into the lion's den!" Love exclaimed, in wild agitation.

John Franklin was sent to Staunton to see Mrs. Middleton and Mrs. Chase, to get them to join the travelers on their journey, and Doctor Platt and Love followed on the next train.

It was the first of May, a beautiful evening, with the sun just sinking in the west, when they reached the station, and a carriage was quickly procured for the drive to Ellsworth.

Mrs. Chase and Mrs. Middleton had joined them at Staunton, and the mother's heart was thrilled with unspeakable love and tenderness at the story her eager, handsome son-in-law poured into her ears.

It seemed too good to be true that Love was restored to himself again, and that nothing remained but to find Dainty to make the sum of their happiness complete.

It was the one anxiety that brooded darkly over their hearts, the fear that evil had befallen the hapless girl on her return to Ellsworth.

"If they have injured but one hair of my darling's head, they shall answer to the law they have broken," Love said, grimly, as they started from the station toward Ellsworth, with the fixed resolve to tax Mrs. Ellsworth and her nieces at once with their crimes, and demand Dainty at their hands.

Old Doctor Platt was jubilant over the part he had played in restoring Love to his own, and he rubbed his hands in glee as he pictured to himself the consternation of Mrs. Ellsworth, when she should find herself accused and detected in her plot against Love and his persecuted bride.

"Drive fast, Franklin; I'm anxious to see the madame's face when she sees the master of Ellsworth returning to claim his own!" he exclaimed, joyously, just as they came abreast of a large frame house standing close to the road about a mile from the station.

The next moment Love startled them all with a surprised and happy laugh, exclaiming:

"Look! Look! There's my old black mammy sitting there in the door of that house! Listen! She is crooning the old nursery song that charmed me in my babyhood! Let us stop here, Franklin. Perhaps she can tell us something about my wife—who knows?"

Yes, there sat black mammy in a capacious armchair in Mrs. Peters' door-way. Across her knees lay a small white bundle, and she was swaying softly back and forth, while she crooned in a low, loving monotone her favorite nursery lullaby:

"Byo, baby boy, bye—Byo, li'l boy!En 'e run ter 'is mammy,Ter rock 'im in 'er arms—Mammy's li'l baby boy!"Who all de time er frettin' in de middle er de day?Mammy's li'l boy, mammy's li'l boy!Who all de time er gittin' so sleepy—

"Sho'! what am de matter now, and who am dese folks stoppin' deir kerridge in front o' de gate?" the lullaby ending in these exclamations of surprise.

Lovelace Ellsworth sprang from the carriage and rushed to the gate.

"Mammy, mammy, don't you know me? Your Marse Love?" eagerly.

"Oh, my good Lord in hebben, am I dreamin', or is it yo'self, Marse Love, a-laffin' an' a-talkin' lak in de dear old days 'fore you was shot?" cried the old negress, shaking with joyful excitement.

"It is Love, sure enough, mammy. You may pinch me if you choose, and you'll find I am your old nursling alive and well. Oh, mammy, I am searching for my Dainty, my sweet, darling wife!"

"T'ank de good Lord for all His mercies! Dis is de day dat I been prayin' fo' so long! Oh, Marse Love, I'll he'p yo' fin' yo' darlin' wife, indeedy I will! But won't you look at my nurse-chile on my knee? Aine he pritty? See him yaller curls fine as silk, and him skin like de crumply rose-leaf, an' him big black eyes like his pappy's? Don't you want ter kiss him fo' his sweet mudder's sake?" laughing.

"Mammy!" he cried in sudden, wild, suspicious excitement, as he bent closely to look at the infant.

"Yes, Marse Love, 'tis your own li'l baby boy borned almost two weeks ago, an' de fines' li'l chap alive! Miss Dainty she come to black mammy, o' course, in her trubble, an' I cheers her up till li'l Marse Lovelace Ellsworth he come to laugh at her wid his pappy's sassy black eyes. Hi! hi! he gone like a shot at de fust call o' her voice!" for Love had dashed past her wildly at a low, startled cry, from the open door of a room just beyond.

He dashed wildly across the threshold, glanced around, and there she lay lovely and pale as a lily among soft white pillows—his lost bride, his adored wife, the tender mother of his beautiful child!

"My darling!" and he was on his knees with his arms about her, and his lips on her face.

For a moment, under the shock of joy, Dainty's senses reeled; but he kissed the life back to her closing eyes and the smiles back to the quivering lips.

"Oh, my darling, my wife, God has given us back to each other for all time and eternity!"

CHAPTER XL.

CONCLUSION

The bolt of Fate falls sometimes like a flash of lightning from a clear sky.

Thus it came to Mrs. Ellsworth and her scheming nieces in the moment when they felt themselves most secure.

On that golden May evening, when Love Ellsworth found his happiness again, they had been busy laying their plans for a summer campaign.