Collins_The_New_Magdalen.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
PREAMBLE.
The place is France.
The time is autumn, in tbe year eighteen hundred and sev-
enty tbe year of the war between Prance and Germany.
The persons are, Captain Araault, of the French army ; Sur-
geon Surville, of the French ambulance ; Surgeon Wetzel, of
the German army ; Mercy Merrick, attached as nurse to the
French ambulance; and Grace Roseberry, a traveling lady on
her way to England.
CHAPTER I.
THE TWO WOMEN.
It was a dark night. The rain was pouring in torrents.
Late in the evening a skirmishing party of the French and
a skirmishing party of the Germans had met, by accident,
near the little village of Lagrange, close to the German
frontier. In the struggle that followed, the French had (for
once) got the better of the enemy. For the time, at least, a
few hundreds out of the host of the invaders had been forced
back over the frontier. It was a trifling affair, occurring not
1*
10 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
long after, the great German victory of Weissenbourg, and
the newspaper took little or no notice of it.
Captain Arnault, commanding on the French side, sat alone
in one of the cottages of the village, inhabited by the miller
of the district The Captain was reading, by the light of a
solitary tallow-candle, some intercepted dispatclies taken from
the Germans. He had suffered the wood fire, scattered over
the large open grate, to burn low ; the red embers only faint-
ly illuminated a part of the room. On the floor behind him
lay some of the miller's empty sacks. In a corner opposite
to him was the miller's solid walnut-wood bed. On the walls
all around him were the miller's colored prints, representing
a happy mixture of devotional and domestic subjects. A
door of communication leading into the kitchen of the cot-
tage had been torn from its hinges, and used to carry the
men wounded in the skirmish from the field. They were
now comfortably laid at rest in the kitchen, under the care of
the French surgeon and the English nurse attached to tlie
ambulance. A piece of coarse canvas screened the opening
between the two rooms in place of the door. A second
door, leading from the bed-chamber into the yard, was
locked; and the wooden shutter protecting the one window
of the room was carefully barred. Sentinels, doubled in
number, were placed at all the outposts. The French com-
mander had neglected no precaution which could reasonably
insure for himself and for his men a quiet and comfortable
night.
Still absorbed in his perusal of the dispatches, and now and
then making notes of w^hat he read by the help of writing
materials placed at his side. Captain Arnault was interrupted
by the appearance of an intruder in the room. Surgeon Sur-
ville, entering from the kitchen, drew aside the canvas screen,
and approached the little round table at which his superior
oflBicer was sitting.
" What is it?" said the captain, sharply.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 11
" A question to ask," replied the surgeon. " Are wo safe
for the night ?"
" Why do you want to know ?" inquired the captain, sus-
piciously.
The surgeon pointed to the kitchen, now the hospital de-
voted to the wounded men.
" The poor fellows are anxious about the next few hours,"
he replied. "They dread a surprise, and they ask me if
there is any reasonable hope of their having one night's rest
What do you think of the chances ?"
The captain shrugged his shoulders. The surgeon persist-
ed. Surely you ought to know ?" he said.
" I know that we are in possession of the village for the
present," retorted Captain Araault, "and I know no more.
Here are the papers of the enemy." He held them up, and
shook them impatiently as he spoke. "They give me no
information that I can rely on. For all I can tell to the con-
trary, the main body of the Germans, outnumbering us ten
to one, may be nearer this cottage than the main body of the
French. Draw your own conclusions. I have nothing more
to say."
Having answered in those discouraging terms. Captain Ar-
nault got on his feet, drew the hood of his great-coat over his
head, and lit a cigar at the candle.
" Where are you going ?" asked the surgeon.
" To visit the outposts."
" Do you want this room for a little while ?"
" Not for some hours to come. Are you thinking of mov-
ing any of your wounded men in here ?"
" I was thinking of the English lady," answered the sur-
geon. "The kitchen is not quite the place for her. She
would be more comfortable here; and the English nurse
might keep her company."
Captain Arnault smiled, not very pleasantly. " They are
two fine women," he said, " and Surgeon Surville is a ladies'
1
1
HARVARD COI J FGE
LAMONT LIBRARY
^m TRANSFERRED
^m HARVARD COLLEGE
^M LIBRARY
1
THE NEW MAGDALEN.
IK l^ODtl,
By WILKIE COLLINS,
AUTHOR OP
"POOR MISS FINCH, "MAN AND WIFE," "THE WOMAN IN WHITE,"
ARMADALE, "NO NAME," &c, &c.
IV/Tff ILLUSTRATIONS.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
PKANKLIN SQUAXB.
20 THE NEW MAGDALBK.
berry was shocked ; Miss Roseberry was couf used. " I am
very sorry for you," was all that Miss Roseberry could say.
"Every body is soriy for me," answered the nurse, as
patiently as ever ; " every body is kind to me. But the lost
place is not to be regained. I can't get back ! I can't get
back?" she cried, with a passionate outburst of despair
checked instantly the moment it had escaped her. "Shall
I tell you what my experience has been?" she resumed.
" Will you hear the story of Magdalen ^in modem times ?"
Grace drew back a step ; Mercy instantly understood her.
" I am going to tell you nothing that you need shrink from
hearing," she said. "A lady in your position would not un-
derstand the trials and the struggles that I have passed
through. My story shall begin at the Refuge. The matron
sent me out to service with the character that I had honestly
earned the character of a reclaimed woman. I justified the
confidence placed in me ; I was a faithful servant. One day
my mistress sent for me a kind mistress, if ever there was
one yet. ' Mercy, I am sorry for you ; it has come out that
I took you from a Refuge; I shall lose every servant in the
house ; you must go.' I went back to the matron another
kind woman. She received me like a mother. * We will try
again, Mercy ; don't be cast down.' I told you I had been
in Canada ?"
Grace began to feel interested in spite of herself. She an-
swered with something like warmth in her tone. She return-
ed to her chair placed at its safe and significant distance
from the chest.
The nurse went on :
" My next place was in Canada, with an officer's wife : gen-
tlefolks who had emigrated. More kindness ; and, this time,
a pleasant, peaceful life for me. I said to myself, * Is the
lost place regained ? Have I got back ?' My mistress died.
New people came into our neighborhood. There was a young
lady among them my master began to think of another wife.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 21
I have the misfortnne (in my situation) to be what is called a
handsome woman ; I rouse the curiosity of strangers. The
new people asked questions about me ; my master's answers
did not satisfy them. In a word, they found me out. The
old story again ! * Mercy, I am very sorry ; scandal is busy
with you and with me ; we are innocent, but there is no help
for it we must part.' I left the place ; having gained one
advantage during my stay in Canada, which I find of use to
me here."
What is it ?"
" Our nearest neighbors were French Canadians. I learned
to speak the French language."
" Did you return to London ?"
" Where else could I go, without a character ?" said Mercy,
sadly. "I went back again to the matron. Sickness had
broken out in the Refuge ; I made myself useful as a nurse.
One of the doctors was struck with me ^ feU in loye ' with
me, as the phrase is. He would have married me. The
nurse, as an honest woman, was bound to tell him the truth.
He never appeared again. The old story ! I began to be
weary of saying to myself, * I can't get back I I can't get
back !' Despair got hold of me, the despair that hardens the
heart. I might have committed suicide ; I might even have
drifted back into my old life but for one man."
At those last words her voice quiet and even through the
earlier part of her sad story began to falter once more. She
stopped, following silently the memories and associations
roused in her by what she had just said. Had she forgotten
the presence of another person in the room ? Grace's curios-
ity left Grace no resource but to say a word on her side.
"Who was the man ?" she asked. " How did he befriend
you ?"
"Befriend me? He doesn't even know that such a person
as I am is in existence."
rhat strange answer, naturally enough, only strengthened
22 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
the anxiety of Grace to hear more. " You said just now ^"
she began.
" I said just now that he saved me. He did save me ; you
shall hear how. One Sunday our regular clergyman at the
Refuge was not able to officiate. His place was taken by a
stranger, quite a young man. The matron told us the stranger's
name was Julian Gray. I sat in the back row of seats, under
the shadow of the gallery, where I could see him without his
seeing me. His text was from the words, ' Joy shall be in
heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety
and nine just persons, which need no repentance.' What
happier women might have thought of his sermon I can not
say; there was not a dry eye among us at the Refuge. As
for me, he touched my heart as no man has touched it before
or since. The hard despair melted in me at the sound of his
voice; the weary round of my life showed its nobler side
again while he spoke. From that time I have accepted my
hard lot, I have been a patient woman. I might have been
something more, I might have been a happy woman, if I could
have prevailed on myself to speak to Julian Gray."
" What hindered you from speaking to him ?"
" I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
" Afraid of making my hard life harder still."
A woman who could have sympathized with her would per-
haps have guessed what those words meant. Grace was sim-
ply embarrassed by her ; and Grace failed to guess.
" I don't understand you," she said.
There was no alternative for Mercy but to own the truth in
plain words. She sighed, and said the words. " I was afraid
I might interest him in my sorrows, and might set my heart
on him in return." The utter absence of any fellow-feeling
with her on Grace's side expressed itself unconsciously in the
plainest teims.
" You I" she exclaimed, in a tone of blank astonishment.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 23
The nui-se rose slowly to her feet. Grace's expression of
surprise told her plainly almost brutally that her confes-
sion had gone far enough.
"I astonish you?" she said. "Ah, my young lady, you
don't know what rough usage a woman's heart can bear, and
still beat truly ! Before I saw Julian Gray I only knew men
as objects of hoiTor to me. Let us drop the subject. The
preacher at the Refuge is nothing but a remembrance now
the one welcome remembrance of my life ! I have nothing
more to tell you. You insisted on hearing my story you
have heard it."
" I have not heard how you found employment here," said
Grace, continuing the conversation with uneasy politeness, as
she best might.
Mercy crossed the room, and slowly raked together the last
living embers of the fire.
"The matron has friends in France," she answered, "who
are connected with the military hospitals. It was not diffi-
cult to get me the place, under those circumstances. Society
can find a use for me here. My hand is as light, my words
of comfort are as welcome, among those suffering wretches"
(she pointed to the room in which the wounded men were ly-
ing) " as if I was the most reputable woman breathing. And
if a stray shot comes my way before the war is over well !
Society will be rid of me on easy terms."
She stood looking thoughtfully into the wreck of the fire
as if she saw in it the wreck of her own life. Common hu-
manity made it an act of necessity to say something to her.
Grace considered advanced a step toward her stopped
and took refuge in the most trivial of all the common phrases
which one human being can address to another.
" If there is any thing I can do for you " she began. The
sentence, halting there, was never finished. Miss Roseberry
was just merciful enough toward the lost woman who had res-
cued and sheltered her to feel that it was needless to say more.
24 THE NEW MAQDALEN.
The nnrse lifted her noble head and advanced slowly to]
ward the canvas screen to return to her duties. " Miss Rose-
berry might have taken my hand !" she thought to herself,]
bitterly. No ! Miss Roseberry stood there at a distance, at]
a loss what to say next. " What can you do for me ?" Mercy]
asked, stung by the cold courtesy of her companion into
momentary outbreak of contempt "Can you change m;
identity ? Can you give me the name and the place of an in]
nocent woman ? If I only had your chance ! If I only hadj
your reputation and your prospects!" She laid one hand
over her bosom, and controlled herself. " Stay here," she r-'
0umed, " while I go back to my work. I will see that your
clothes are dried. You shall wear my clothes as short a
time as possible."
With those melancholy words touchingly, not bitterly.]
spoken she moved to pass into the kitchen, when she no
ticcd that the pattering sound of the rain against the window
was audible no more. Dropping the canvas for the moment^ i
she retraced her steps, and, unfastening the wooden shutter,
looked out.
Tlie moon was rising dimly in the wateiy sky; the rain
had ceased ; the friendly darkness which had hidden the
French position from the German scouts was lessening every
moment. In a few hours more (if nothing happened) the En-
glish lady might resume her journey. In a few hours more
the morning would dawn.
Mercy lifted her hand to close the shutter. Before she
could fasten it the report of a rifle-shot reached the cottage
from one of the distant posts. It was followed almost in-
Htantly by a second report, nearer and louder than the first
Mercy paused, with the shutter in her hand, and listened in-
tently for the next sound.
THE NEW KAGDALEX. 25
CHAPTER m.
THE GERMAN SHELL.
A THIRD rifle-shot rang through the night air, close to
the cottage. Grace started and approached the window in
alarm.
" What does that firing mean ?" she asked.
" Signals from the outposts," the nurse quietly replied.
" Is there any danger ? Have the Germans come back ?"
Surgeon Surville answered the question. He lifted the can-
vas screen, and looked into the room as Miss Roseberry
spoke.
"The Grermans are advancing on us," he said. "Their
van-guard is in sight."
Grace sank on the chair near her, trembling from head to
foot. Mercy advanced to the surgeon, and put the decisive
question to him.
"Do we defend the position?" she inquired.
Surgeon Surville ominously shook his head.
"Impossible ! We are outnumbered as usual ten to one."
The shrill roll of the French drums was heard outside.
"There is the retreat sounded!" said the surgeon. "The
captain is not a man to think twice about what he does. We
are left to take care of ourselves. In five minutes we must
be out of this place."
A volley of riflenshots rang out as he spoke. The German
van-guard was attacking the French at the outposts. Grace
caught the surgeon entreatingly by the arm. " Take me with
you,** she cried. " Oh, sir, I have suffered from the Germans
abready I Don't forsake me, if they come back !" The sur-
geon was equal to the occasion ; he placed the hand of the
pretty Englishwoman on his breast. ^^ Fear nothing^madam "
2
26 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
he said, lookiDg as if be could have annihilated the whole
German force with his own invincible arm. "A Frenchman's
heart beats under your hand. A Frenchman's devotion pro-
tects you." Grace's head sank on his shoulder. Monsieur
Surville felt that he had asserted himself ; he looked round
invitingly at Mercy. She, too, was an attractive woman.
The Frenchman had another shoulder at her service. Un-
happily the room was dark the look was lost on Mercy.
She was thinking of the helpless men in the inner chamber,
and she quietly recalled the surgeon to a sense of his profes-
sional duties.
" What is to become of the sick and wounded ?" she asked.
Monsieur Surville shrugged one shoulder the shoulder
that was free.
" The strongest among them we can take away with us,"
he said. " The others must be left here. Fear nothing for
yourself, dear lady. There will be a place for you in the bag-
gage-wagon."
"And for me, too?" Grace pleaded, eagerly.
The surgeon's invincible arm stole round the young lady's
waist, and answered mutely with a squeeze.
" Take her with you," said Mercy. " My place is with the
men whom you leave behind."
Grace listened in amazement. "Think what you risk,"
she said, " if you stop here."
Mercy pointed to her left shoulder.
" Don't alarm yourself on my account," she answered ; " the
red cross will protect me."
Another roll of the drum warned the susceptible surgeon
to take his place as director-general of the ambulance with-
out any further delay. He conducted Grace to a chair, and
placed both her hands on his heart this time, to reconcile her
to the misfortune of his absence. "Wait here till I return
for you," he whispered. "Fear nothing, my charming friend.
Say to yourself, * Surville is the soul of honor ! Surville is
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 27
devoted to me !' " He struck his breast ; he again forgot the
obscurity in the room, and cast one look of unutterable hom-
age at his charming friend. ",4 hientdtP he cried, and kiss-
ed his hand and disappeared.
As the canvas screen fell over him the sharp report of the
rifle-firing was suddenly and grandly dominated by the roar
of cannon. The instant after a shell exploded in the garden
outside, within a few yards of the window.
Grace sank on her knees with a shriek of terror. Mercy,
without losing her self-possession, advanced to the window
and looked out.
**The moon has risen," she said. "The Germans are shell-
ing the village."
Grace rose, and ran to her for protection.
**Take me away!" she cried. "We shall be killed if we
stay here." She stopped, looking in astonishment at the tall
black figure of the nurse, standing immovably by the window.
**Are you made of iron?" she exclaimed. "Will nothing
frighten you ?"
Mercy smiled sadly. " Why should I be afraid of losing
my life ?" she answered. " I have nothing worth living for !"
The roar of the cannon shook the cottage for the second
time. A second shell exploded in the court-yard, on the op-
posite side of the building.
Bewildered by the noise, panic-stricken as the danger from
the shells threatened the cottage more and more nearly, Grace
threw her arms, round the nurse, and clung, in the abject fa-
miliarity of terror, to the woman whose hand she had shrunk
from touching not five minutes since. "Where is it safest?"
she cried. " Where can I hide myself ?"
** How can I tell where the next shell will fall ?" Mercy an-
swered, quietly.
The steady composure of the one woman seemed to mad-
den the other. Releasing the nurse, Grace looked wildly
round for a way of escape from the cottage. MaViu^ ^\^\.
]
28 THE NSW MAGDALEN.
for the kitcbcD, she was driven back by the clamor and con-
fusion attending the removal of those among the wounded
who were strong enough to be placed in the wagon. A sec-
ond look round showed her the door leading into the yard.
She rushed to it with a cry of relief. She had just laid her
hand on the lock when the third report of cannon burst over
the place.
Starting back a step, Grace lifted her hands mechanically to
her ears. At the same moment the third shell burst through
the roof of the cottage, and exploded in the room, just inside
the door. Mercy sprang forward, unhurt, from her place at
the window. The buraing fragments of the shell were al-
ready firing the dry wooden floor, and in the midst of them,
dimly seen through the smoke, lay the insensible body of her
companion in the room. Even at that dreadful moment the
nurse's presence of mind did not fail her. Hurrying back to
the place that she had just left, near which she had already
noticed the miller's empty sacks lying in a heap, she seized
two of them, and, throwing them on the smouldering floor,
trampled out the fire. That done, she knelt by the senseless
woman, and lifted her head.
Was she wounded ? or dead ?
Mercy raised one helpless hand, and laid her fingers on the
wrist. While she was still vainly trying to feel for the beat-
ing of the pulse. Surgeon Surville (alarmed for the ladies)
hurried in to inquire if any harm had been done.
Mercy called to him to approach. " I am afraid the shell
has struck her," she said, yielding her place to him. " See
if she is badly hurt."
The surgeon's anxiety for his charming patient expressed
itself briefly in an oath, with a prodigious emphasis laid on
one of the letters in it the letter R. " Take off her cloak,'*
he cried, raising his hand to her neck. " Poor angel ! She
has turned in falling ; the string is twisted round her throat.**
Mercy removed the cloak. It dropped on the floor as the
I
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 29
surgeon lifted Grace in his arms. " Get a candle," he said,
impatiently ; " they will give you one in the kitchen." He
tried to feel the pulse : his hand trembled, the noise and con-
fusion in the kitchen bewildered him. " Just Heaven !" he
exclaimed. " My emotions overpower me !" Mercy approach-
ed him with the candle. The light disclosed the frightful in-
jury which a fragment of the shell had inflicted on the En-
glishwoman's head. Surgeon Surville's manner altered on
the instant. The expression of anxiety left his face ; its pro-
fessional composure covered it suddenly like a mask. What
was the object of his admiration now ? An inert burden in
his arms nothing more.
The change in his face was not lost on Mercy. Her large
gray eyes watched him attentively. "Is the lady seriously
wounded ?" she asked.
" Don't trouble yourself to hold the light any longer," was
the cool reply. "It's all over I can do nothing for her."
Dead ?"
Surgeon Surville nodded, and shook his fist in the direc-
tion of the outposts. "Accursed Germans !" he cried, and
looked down at the dead face on his arm, and shrugged his
shoulders resignedly. " TLe fortune of war !" he said, as he
lifted the body and placed it on the bed in one corner of the
room. "Next time, nurse, it may be you or me. Who
knows ? Bah ! the problem of human destiny disgusts me."
He turned from the bed, ar.d illustrated his disgust by spit-
ting on the fragments of the exploded shell. "We must
leave her there," he resumed. "She was once a charming
person she is nothing now. Come away. Miss Mercy, be-
fore it is too late."
He offered his arm to t;ie nurse; the creaking of the bag-
gage-wagon, starting on its journey, was heard outside, and
the shrill roll of the drums was renewed in the distance.
The retreat had begun.
Mercy drew aside the canvas, and saw the badly wouudad
30 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
men, left helpless at the mercy of the enemy, on their straw
beds. She refused the offer of Monsiear Sarville's arm.
^^ I have already told yon that I shall stay here," she an-
swered.
Monsieur Sarville lifted his hands in polite remonstrance
Mercy held back the curtain, and pointed to the cottage door.
" Gk)," she said. " My mind is made np.*'
Even at that final moment the Frenchman asserted himselt
He made his exit with unimpaired grace and dignity. ^ Mad*
am,** he said, " you are sublime V^ With that parting com-
pliment the man of gallantry ^true to the last to his admira-
tion of the sex bowed, with his hand on his heart, and left
the cottage.
Mercy dropped the canvas over the door-way. She was
alone with the dead woman.
The last tramp of footsteps, the last rumbling of the wagon
wheels, died away in the distance. No renewal of firing
from the position occupied by the enemy disturbed the si-
lence that followed. The Germans knew that the French
were in retreat. A few minutes more and they would take
possession of the abandoned village : the tumult of their ap-
proach would become audible at the cottage. In the mean
time the stillness was terrible. Even the wounded wretches
who were left in the kitchen waited their fate in silence.
Alone in the room, Mercy's fii-st look was directed to the
bed.
The two women had met in the confusion of the first
skinnish at the close of twilight. Separated, on their arrival
at the cottage, by the duties required of the nurse, they had
only met again in the captain's room. The acquaintance be-
tween them had been a short one ; and it had given no prom-
ise of ripening into friendship. But the fatal accident had
roused Mercy's interest in the stranger. She took the candle,
and approached the corpse of the woman who had been lite^
ally killed at her side.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 31
She stood by the bed, looking down in the silence of the
night at the stillness of the dead face.
It was a striking face once seen (in life or in death) not
to be forgotten afterward. The forehead was unusually low
and broad; the eyes unusually far apart; the mouth and
chin remarkably small. With tender hands Mercy smoothed
the disheveled hair and arranged the crumpled dress. " Not
five minutes since," she thought to herself, " I was longing to
change places with you /" She turned from the bed with a
sigh. " I wish I could change places now !"
The silence began to oppress her. She walked slowly to
the other end of the room.
The cloak on the floor her own cloak, which she had lent
to Miss Roseberry attracted her attention as she passed it.
She picked it up and brushed the dust from it, and laid it
across a chair. This done, ahe put the light back on the
table, and going to the window, listened for the first sounds
of the German advance. The faint passage of the wind
through some trees near at hand was the only sound that
caught her ears. She turned from the window, and seated
herself at the table, thinking. Was there any duty still left
undone that Christian charity owed to the dead ? Was there
any further service that pressed for performance in the inter-
val before the Germans appeared ?
Mercy recalled the conversation that had passed between
her ill-fated companion and herself. Miss Roseberry had
spoken of her object in returning to England. She had men-
tioned a lady a connection by marriage, to whom she was
personally a stranger who was waiting to receive her. Some
one capable of stating how the poor creature had met with
her death ought to wiite to her only friend. Who was to do
it ? There was nobody to do it but the one witness of the
catastrophe now left in the cottage ^Mercy herself.
She lifted the cloak from the chair on which she had placed
it| and took from the pocket the leather lettet-c^^^ \^Vv3ci
2*
82 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Grace had shown to her. The only way of discovering the
address to write to in England was to open the case and ex-
amine the papers inside. Mercy opened the case and stop-
ped, feeling a strange reluctance to carry the investigation
any further.
A moment's consideration satisfied her that her scruples
were misplaced. If she respected the case as inviolable, the
Germans would certainly not hesitate to examine it, and
the Germans would hardly trouble themselves to write to
England. Which were the fittest eyes to inspect the papers
of the deceased lady the eyes of men and foreigners, or the
eyes of her own countrywoman ? Mercy's hesitation left her.
She emptied the contents of the case on the table.
That trifling action decided the whole future course of her
life.
CHAPTER IV.
THE TEMPTATION.
Some letters, tied together with a ribbon, attracted Mercy's
attention first. The ink in which the addresses were writ-
ten had faded with age. The letters, directed alternately to
Colonel Roseberry and to the Honorable Mrs. Roseberry, con-
tained a correspondence between the husband and wife at a
time when the Colonel's military duties had obliged him to
be absent from home. Mercy tied the letters up again, and
passed on to the papers that lay next in order under her hand.
These consisted of a few leaves pinned together, and headed
(in a woman's handwriting), "My Journal at Rome." A
brief examination showed that the journal had been written
by Miss Roseberry, and that it was mainly devoted to a rec-
ord of the last days of her father's life.
After replacing the journal and the correspondence in the
case, the one paper left on the table was a letter. The enve
lope, which was unclosed, bore this address : " Lady Janet
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 33
Roy, Mablethorpe House, Kensington, London." Mercy took
the inclosure from the open envelope. The first lines she
read informed her that she had found the Colonel's letter of
introduction, presenting his daughter to her protectress on
her arrival in England.
Mercy read the letter through. It was described by the
writer as the last efEorts of a dying man. Colonel Roseber-
ry wrote affectionately of his daughter's merits, and regret-
fully of her neglected education ascribing the latter to the
pecuniary losses whioh had forced him to emigrate to Can-
ada in the character of a poor man. Fervent expressions of
gratitude followed, addressed to Lady Janet. "I owe it to
you," the letter concluded, " that I am dying with my mind
at ease about the future of my darling girl. To your gener-
ous protection I com?nit the one treasure I have left to me on
earth. Through your long lifetime you have nobly used your
high rank and your great fortune as a means of doing good.
I believe it will not be counted among the least of your virtues
hereafter that you comforted the last hours of an old soldier
by opening your hep: t and your home to his friendless child."
So the letter ended. Mercy laid it down with a heavy
heart. What a chance the poor girl had lost ! A woman of
rank and fortune waiting to receive her a woman so mer-
ciful and so generous that the father's mind had been easy
about the daughter on his death-bed and there the daugh-
ter lay, beyond the reach of Lady Janet's kindness, beyond
the need of Lady Janet's help !
The French captain's writing-materials were left on the ta-
ble. Mercy turned the letter over so that she might write
the news of Miss Roseberiy's death on the blank page at the
end. She was still considering what expressions she should
use, when the sound of complaining voices from the next
room caught her ear. The wounded men left behind were
moaning for help the deserted soldiers were losing their for-
titude at last.
34 TUS NEW MAGDALEN.
She entered the kitchen. A cry of delight welcomed her
appearance ^the mere sight of her composed the men. From
one straw bed to another she passed with comforting words
that gave them hope, with skilled and tender hands that
soothed their pain. They kissed the hem of her black dress,
they called her their guardian angel, as the beautiful creature
moved among them, and bent over their hard pillows her gen-
tle, compassionate face. " I will be with you when the Grer-
mans come," she said, as she left them to return to her un-
written letter. " Courage, my poor fellows ! you are not de-
serted by your nurse."
^^ Courage, madam !" the men replied ; '' and God bless
you !"
If the firing had been resumed at that moment if a shell
had struck her dead in the act of succoring the afflicted, what
Christian judgment would have hesitated to declare that
there was a place for this woman in heaven ? But if the war
ended and left her still living, where was the place for her on
earth? Where were her prospects? Where was her home!
She returned to the letter. Instead, however, of seating
herself to write, she stood by the table, absently looking donen
at the morsel of paper.
A strange fancy had sprung to life in her mind on re-enter-
ing the room ; she herself smiled faintly at the extravagance
of it. What if she were to ask Lady Janet Roy to let h^
supply Miss Roseberry's place? She had met with Mifl8
Roseberry under critical circumstances, and she had done for
her all that one woman could do to help another. There
was in this circumstance some little claim to notice, perhaps,
if Lady Janet had no other companion and reader in view.
Suppose she ventured to plead her own cause what would
the noblo and merciful lady do ? She would write back, and
say, " Send me references to your character, and I will see
what can be done." Her character ! Her references ! Mercy
laughed bitterly, and sat down to write in the fewest woidfl
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 35
all that was needed from her sl plain statement of the
facts.
IN" ! Not a line could she put on the paper. That fancy
of hers was not to be dismissed at will Her mind was per-
versely busy now with an imaginative picture of the beauty
of Mablethorpe House and the comfort and elegance of the
life that was led there. Once more she thought of the chance
which Miss Roseberry had lost. Unhappy creature ! what a
home would have been open to her if the shell had only fallen
on the side of the window, instead of on the side of the yard !
Mercy pushed the letter away from her, and walked impa-
tiently to and fro in the room.
The perversity in her thoughts was not to be mastered in
that way. Her mind only abandoned one useless train of re-
flection to occupy itself with another. She was now looking
by anticipation at her own future. What were her prospects
(if she lived through it) when the war was over ? The ex-
perience of the past delineated with pitiless fidelity the dreary
scene. Gk) where she might, do what she might, it would
end always in the same way. Curiosity and admiration ex-
cited by her beauty ; inquiries made about her ; the story of
the past discovered ; Society charitably sorry for her ; Socie-
ty generously subscribing for her ; and still, through all the
years of her life, the same result in the end the shadow of
the old disgrace surrounding her as with a pestilence, isola-
ting her among other women, branding her, even when she
had earned her pardon in the sight of God, with the mark of
an indelible disgrace in the sight of man : there was the pros-
pect I And she was only five-and-twenty last birthday ; she
was in the prime of her health and her strength ; she might
live, in the course of nature, fifty years more I
She stopped again at the bedside ; she looked again at the
&ce of the corpse.
To what end had the shell struck the woman who had some
hope in her life, and spared the woman who had wotv^'i ^\^^
36 THB NEW MAGDALBN.
words she had herself spoken to Grace Roseberry came back
to her as she thought of it. ^' If I only had your chance ! If
I only had your reputation and your prospects !" And there
was the chance wasted! there were the enviable prospects
thrown away! It was almost maddening to contemplate
that result, feeling her own position as she felt it. In the
bitter mockery of despair she bent over the lifeless figure, and
spoke to it as if it had ears to hear her. " Oh !'' she said,
longingly, " if you could be Mercy Merrick, and if I could be
Grace Roseberry, nowP^
The instant the words passed her lips she started into an
erect position. She stood by the bed, with her eyes staring
wildly into empty space ; with her brain in a flame ; with her
heart beating as if it would stifle her. "If you could be
Mercy Merrick, and if I could be Grace Roseberry, now !" In
one breathless moment the thought assumed a new develop-
ment in her mind. In one breathless moment the conviction
struck her like an electric shock. She might be Grace Hose-
berry if she dared I There was absolutely nothing to stop
her from presenting herself to Lady Janet Roy under Grace's
name and in Grace's place 1
What were the risks ? Where was the weak point in the
Kchemo ?
Grace had said it herself in so many words she and Lady
Janet had never seen each other. Her friends were in Cana-
da; her relations in England were dead. Mercy knew the
j)lace in which she had lived the place called Port Logan
as well as she had known it herself. Mercy had only to read
the manuscript journal to be able to answer any questions re-
lating to the visit to Rome and to Colonel Roseberry's death.
She had no accomplished lady to personate : Grace had spoken
herself her father's letter spoke also in the plainest terms
of her neglected education. Every thing, literally every
thing, was in the lost woman's favor. The people with whom
she had been connected in the ambulance had gone, to return
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 37
no more. Her own clothes were on Miss Roseberry at that
moment marked with her own name. Miss Roseberry's
clothes, marked with her name, were drying, at Mercy's dis-
posal, in the next room. The way of escape from the unen-
durable humiliation of her present life lay open before her at
last. What a prospect it was ! A new identity, which she
might own anywhere ! a new name, which was beyond re-
proach ! a new past life, into which all the world might
search, and be welcome ! Her color rose, her eyes sparkled ;
she had never been so irresistibly beautiful as she looked at
the moment when the new future disclosed itself, radiant
with new hope.
She waited a minute, until she could look at her own dar-
ing project from another point of view. Where was the
harm of it ? what did her conscience say ?
As to Grace, in the first place. What injury was she do-
ing to a woman who was dead ? The question answered it-
self. No injury to the woman. No injuiy to her relations.
Her relations were dead also.
As to Lady Janet, in the second place. If she served her
new mistress faithfully, if she filled her new sphere honorably,
if she was diligent under instruction and grateful for kind-
ness if, in one word, she was all that she might be and
would be in the heavenly peace and security of that new life
what injury was she doing to Lady Janet ? Once more the
question answered itself. She might, and would, give Lady
Janet cause to bless the day when she first entered the house.
She snatched up Colonel Roseberry's letter, and put it
into the case with the other papers. The opportunity was
before her ; the chances were all in her favor ; her conscience
said nothing against trying the daring scheme. She decided
then and there" I'll do it I"
Something jarred on her finer sense, something offended
her better nature, as she put the case into the pocket of her
dress. She had decided, and yet she was not at e^&^\ ^^
38 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
was DOt quite sare of having fairlj questioned her conscience
yet What if she laid the letter-case on the table again, and
waited until her excitement had all cooled down, and then
put the contemplated project soberly on its trial before her
own sense of right and wrong ?
She thought once and hesitated. Before she could think
twice, the distant tramp of marching footsteps and the dis-
tant clatter of horses' hoofs were wafted to her on the night
air. The Glermans were entering the village ! In a few min-
ntes more they would appear in the cottage; they would
summon her to give an account of herself. There was no
time for waiting until she was composed again. Which
should it be the new life, as Grace Roseberry ? or the old
life, as Mercy Merrick ?
She looked for the last time at the bed. Grace's course
was run ; Grace's future was at her disposal. Her resolute
nature, forced to a choice on the instant, held by the dar-
ing alternative. She persisted in the determination to take
(iraco'H j)lacc.
Tlio tramping footsteps of the Germans came nearer and
noar(;r. The voices of the officers were audible, giving the
wohIh of command.
Sli H?at(!d herself at the table, waiting steadily for what
waH to come.
The ineradicable instinct of the sex directed her eyes to her
droHH, before the Germans appeared. Looking it over to see
that it waH in perfect order, her eyes fell upon the red cross
on her left shoulder. In a moment it struck her that her
nurse's costume might involve her in a needless risk. It as-
sociated her with a public position ; it might lead to inqui-
ries at a later time, and those inquiries might betray her.
She looked round. The gray cloak which she had lent to
Grace attracted her attention. She took it up, and covered
herseTf with it from head to foot.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 39
The cloak was just arranged round her when she heard the
onter door thinist open, and voices speaking in a strange
tongue, and aims grounded in the room behind her. Should
she wait to be discovered ? or should she show herself of her
own accord ? It was less trying to such a nature as hers to
show herself than to wait. She advanced to enter the kitch-
en. The canvas curtain, as she stretched out her hand to it,
was suddenly drawn back from the other side, and three men
confronted her in the open door-way.
CHAPTER V.
THE 6EBMAK SUBGEON.
The youngest of the three strangers ^judging by features,
complexion, and manner was apparently an Englishman.
He wore a military cap and military boots, but was otherwise
dressed as a civilian. Next to him stood an officer in Prus-
sian uniform, and next to the officer was the third and the
oldest of the party. He also was dressed in uniform, but his
appearance was far from being suggestive of the appearance
of a military man. He halted on one foot, he stooped at the
shoulders, and instead of a sword at his side he carried a
stick in his hand. After looking sharply through a large
pair of tortoise-shell spectacles, first at Mercy, then at the bed,
then all round the room, he turned with a cynical composure
of manner to the Prussian officer, and broke the silence in
these words :
^^ A woman ill on the bed ; another woman in attendance
on her, and no one else in the room. Any necessity, major,
for setting a guard here ?"
" No necessity," answered the major. He wheeled round
on his heel and returned to the kitchen. The German sur-
geon advanced a little, led by his professional instinct, in the
direction of the bedside. The young EnglishmaU) Nvlio^ ^^^%
40 TUB NEW MAGDALEN.
lial remained riveted in admiration on Mercj, drew the can-
vaH Hcrecn over the door-way, and respectfully addressed her
in the French language.
" May I awk if I am speaking to a French lady ?^ he said.
" I am an Englishwoman," Mercy replied.
The surgeon heard the answer. Stopping short on his way
to the bed, he pointed to the recumbent figure on it, and said
to Mercy, in good English, spoken with a strong German ac-
cent,
" Can I bo of any use there ?"
Ills maimer was ironically courteous, his harsh voice was
pitched in one sardonic monotony of tone. Mercy took an
instantaneous dislike to this hobbling, ugly old man, staring
at lier rudely through his great tortoise-shell spectacles.
" You can be of no use, sir," she said, shortly. " The lady
was killed when your troops shelled this cottage."
The Englishman started, and looked compassionately to-
ward the bed. The German refreshed himself with a pinch
of snuff, and jmt another question.
"Has the body been examined by a medical man?" he
asked.
Mercy ungraciously limited her reply to the one necessary
word " Yes."
The present surgeon was not a man to be daunted by
a lady's disapproval of him. He went on with his ques-
tions.
" Who has examined the body ?"he inquired next.
Mercy answered, " The doctor attached to the French am-
bulance."
The German grunted in contemptuous disapproval of all
Frenchmen, and all French institutions. The Englishman'
seized his first opportunity of addressing himself to Mercy
once more.
" Is the lady a countrywoman of ours ?" he asked, gently.
Mercy considered before she answered him. With the oh*
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 41
ject she had in view, there might be serious reasons for speak-
ing with extreme caution when she spoke of Grace.
" I believe so," she said. " We met here by accident. I
know nothing of her.''
" Not even her name ?" inquired the German surgeon.
Mercy's resolution was hardly equal yet to giving her own
name openly as the name of Grace. She took refuge in flat
denial.
" Not even her name," she repeated, obstinately.
The old man stared at her more rudely than ever, consid-
ered with himself, and took the candle from the table. He
hobbled back to the bed, and examined the figure laid on it
in silence. The Englishman continued the conversation, no
longer concealing the interest that he felt in the beautiful
woman who stood before him.
" Pardon me," he said, " you are very young to be alone in
war-time in such a place as this."
The sudden outbreak of a disturbance in the kitchen re-
lieved Mercy from any immediate necessity for answering him.
She heard the voices of the wounded men raised in feeble
remonstrance, and the harsh command of the foreign officers
bidding them be silent. The generous instincts of the wom-
an instantly prevailed over every personal consideration im-
posed on her by the position which she had assumed. Reckless
whether she betrayed herself or not as nurse in the French
ambulance, she instantly drew aside the canvas to enter the
kitchen. A German sentinel barred the way to her, and an-
nounced, in his own language, that no strangers were admit-
ted. The Englishman politely interposing, asked if she had
any special object in wishing to enter the room.
" The poor Frenchmen !" she said, earnestly, her heart up-
braiding her for having forgotten them. " The poor wound-
ed Frenchmen !"
The German surgeon advanced from the bedside, and took
the matter up before the Englishman could say a ^o\4.tclw^.
42 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
^* Yoa have nothing to do with the wounded Frenchmen,?
he croaked, in the harshest notes of his voice. ^ The wound-
cd Freychmen are my business, and not yours. They are our
prisoners, and they are being moved to our ambulance. I am
Ignatius Wetzel, chief of the medical staff and I tell you
this. Hold your tongue." He turned to the sentinel, and
added in German, '^ Draw the curtain again ; and if the wom-
an persists, put her back into this room with your own hand.''
Mercy attempted to remonstrate. The Englishman respect-
fully took her arm, and drew her out of the sentinel's reach.
'^ It is useless to resist," he said. ^' The German discipline
never gives way. There is not the least need to be uneasy
about the Frenchmen. The ambulance under Surgeon Wetz-
el is admirably administered. I answer for it, the men will
be well treated." He saw the tears in her eyes as he spoke;
his admiration for her rose higher and higher. ^^ Kind as well
as beautiful," ho thought. " What a charming creature !"
" Well !" said Ignatius Wetzel, eying Mercy sternly through
his spectacles. "Are you satisfied ? And will you hold your
tongue ?"
She yielded : it was plainly useless to resist. But for the
surgeon's resistance, her devotion to the wounded men might
have stopped her on the downward way that she was going.
If she could only have been absorbed again, mind and body,
in her good work as a nurse, the temptation might even yet
have found her strong enough to resist it. The fatal severi-
ty of the German discipline had snapped asunder the last tie
that bound her to her better self. Her face hardened as she
walked away proudly from Surgeon Wetzel, and took a chau:.
The Englishman followed her, and reverted to the question
of her present situation in the cottage.
" Don't suppose that I want to alarm you," he said. " There
is, I repeat, no need to be anxious about the Frenchmen, but
there is serious reason for anxiety on your own account. The
action will be renewed round this village by daylight ; yon
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 43.
ought really to be in a place of safety. 'I am an officer in the
English army my name is Horace Holmcroft. . I shall be de-
lighted to be of use to you, and I can be of use, if you will
let me. May I ask if you are traveling ?"
Mercy gathered the cloak which concealed her nurse's
dress more closely round her, and committed herself silently
to her first overt act of deception. She bowed her head in
the affirmative.
"Are you on your way to England ?"
Yes.''
"In that case I can pass you through the German lines,
and forward you at once on your journey."
Mercy looked at him in unconcealed surprise. His strong-
ly felt interest in her was restrained within the strictest limits
of good-breeding: he was unmistakably a gentleman. Did
he really mean what he had just said ?
" You can pass me through the German lines ?" she repeat-
ed. "You must possess extraordinary influence, sir, to be
able to do that."
Mr. Horace Holmcroft smiled.
"I possess the influence that no one can resist," he an-
swered '^ the influence of the Press. I am serving here as
war correspondent of one of our great English newspapers.
If I ask him, the commanding officer will grant you a pass.
He is close to this cottage. What do you say ?"
She summoned her resolution ^not without difficulty, even
now and took him at his word.
*'I gratefully accept your offer, sir."
He advanced a step toward the kitchen, and stopped.
"It may be well to make the application as privately as
possible," he said. " I shall be questioned if I pass through
that room. Is there no other way out of the cottage ?"
Mercy showed him the door leading into the yard. He
bowed and left her.
She looked furtively toward the German surgeon. Igna-
44 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
tiu8 Wetzel was still at the bed, bending over the body, and
apparently absorbed in examining the wound which had been
inflicted by the shell. Mercy's instinctive aversion to the old
man increased tenfold, now that she was left alone with him.
She withdrew uneasily to the window, and looked oat at the
moonlight.
Had she committed herself to the fraud ? Hardly, yet
She had committed herself to returning to England ^nothing
more. There was no necessity, thus far, which forced her
to present herself at Mablethorpe House, in Grace's place.
There was still time to reconsider her resolution still time to
write the account of the accident, as she had proposed, and
to send it with the letter-case to Lady Janet Roy. Suppose
she Anally decided on takiug this course, what was to become
of her when she found herself in England again ? There was
no alternative open but to apply once more to her friend the
matron. There was nothing for her to do but to retuni to
the liefuge !
The liefuge ! The matron ! What past association with
those two was now presenting itself uninvited, and taking the
foremost place in her mind ? Of whom was she now think-
ing, in that strange place, and at that crisis in her life? Of
the man whose words had found their way to her heart, whose
influence had strengthened and comforted her, in the chapel
of the liefnge. One of the finest passages in his sermon had
been especially devoted by Julian Gray to warning the con-
gregation whom he addressed against the degrading influ-
tjnces of falsehood and deceit. The terms in which he had
appealed to the miserable women round him terms of sym-
pathy and encouragement never addressed to them before
came back to Mercy Merrick as if she had heard them an
hour since. She turned deadly pale as they now pleaded
with her once more.' . " Oh !" she whispered to herself, as she
thought of what she had proposed and planned, " what have
I done ? what have I done ?"
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 45
She tarned from the window with some vague idea in her
mind of following Mr. Holmcrof t and calling him back. As
she &ced the bed again she also confronted Ignatius Wetzel.
He was just stepping forward to speak to her, with a white
handkerchief ^the handkerchief which she had lent to Grace
held up in his hand.
" I have found this in her pocket," he said. " Here is her
name written on it. She must be a countrywoman of yours."
He read the letters marked on the handkerchief with some
difficulty. " Her name is ^Mercy Merrick."
Sia lips had said it not hers! Se had given her the
name.
*** Mercy Merrick' is an English name?" pursued Ignatius
Wetzel, with his eyes steadily fixed on her. " Is it not so ?"
The hold on her mind of the past association with Julian
Gray began to relax. One present and pressing question
now possessed itself of the foremost place in her thoughts.
Should she correct the error into which the German had fall-
en? The time had come to speak, and assert her own iden-
tity ; or to be silent, and commit herself to the fraud.
Horace Holmcroft entered the room again at the moment
when Surgeon Wetzel's staring eyes were still fastened on
her, waiting for her reply.
I have not overrated my interest he said, pointing to a
little slip of paper in his hand. ''Here is the pa*ss. Have
you got pen and ink? I must fill up the form."
Mercy pointed to the writing materials on the table.
Horace seated himself, and dipped the pen in the ink.
" Pray don't think that I wish to intrude myself into your
affairs," he said. " I am obliged to ask you one or two plain
questions. What is your name ?"
A sudden trembling seized her. She supported herself
against the foot of the bed. Her whole future existence de-
pended on her answer. She was incapable of uttering a
word.
46 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Ignatius Wetzel stood her friend for once. His croaking
voice filled the empty gap of silence exactly at the right time.
He doggedly held the handkerchief under her eyes. He ob-
stinately repeated^ ^' Mercy Merrick is an English name. Is
it not so ?"
Horace Holmcroft looked up from the table. ^^Merqr
Merrick?" he said. " Who is Mercy Merrick?"
Surgeon Wetzel pointed to the corpse on the bed.
^^I have found the name on the handkerchief," he said.
^'This lady, it seems, had not curiosity enough to look for the
name of her own countrywoman." He made that mocking
allusion to Mercy with a tone which was almost a tone of sus-
picion, and a look which was almost a look of contempt. Her
quick temper instantly resented the discourtesy of which she
had been made the object. The irritation of the momentr-so
often do the most trifling motives determine the most serious
human actions decided her on the course that she should
pursue. She turned her back scornfully on the rude old man,
and left him in the delusion that he had discovered the dead
woman's name.
Horace returned to the business of filling up the form.
"Pardon me for pressing the question," he said. "Toa
know what German discipline is by this time. What is your
name ?"
She ani^ered him recklessly, defiantly, without fairly real-
izing what she was doing until it was done.
" Grace Roseberry," she said.
The words were hardly out of her mouth before she would
have given every thing she possessed in the world to recall
them.
" Miss ?" asked Horace, smiling.
She could only answer him by bowing her head.
He wrote, " Miss Grace Roseberry " reflected for a mo-
ment and then added, interrogatively, "Returning to her
friends in England?" Her friends in England? Mercy's
THE NEW HAGDaLEN. 47
heart swelled: she silently replied hy another sign. He
wrote the words after the name, and shook the sand-box over
the wet ink. " That will be enough," he said, rising and pre-
senting the pass to Mercy ; " I will see you through the lines
myself, and arrange for your being sent on by the railway.
Where is your luggage ?"
Mercy pointed toward the front door of the building. " In
a shed outside the cottage," she answered. " It is not much ;
I can do every thing for myself if the sentinel will let me pass
through the kitchen."
Horace pointed to the paper in her hand. "You can go
where you like now," he said. " Shall I wait for you here or
outside ? '
Mercy glanced distrustfully at Ignatius Wetzel. He was
again absorbed in his endless examination of the body on the
bed. If she left him alone with Mr. Holmcroft, there was
no knowing what the hateful old man might not say of her.
She answered, " Wait for me outside, if you please."
The sentinel drew back with a military salute at the sight
of the pass. All the French prisoners had been removed;
there were not more than half a dozen Germans in the kitch-
en, and the greater part of them were asleep. Mercy took
Grace Roseberry's clothes from the corner in which they had
been left to dry, and made for the shed a rough structure, of
wood, built out from the cottage wall. At the front door she
encountered a second sentinel, and showed her pass for the
second time. She spoke to this man, asking him if he under-
stood French. He answered that he understood a little.
Mercy gave him a piece of money, and said, " I am going to
pack up my luggage in the shed. Be kind enough to see that
nobody disturbs me." The sentinel saluted, in token that he un-
derstood. Mercy disappeared in the dark interior of the shed.
Left alone with Surgeon Wetzel, Horace noticed the strange
old man still bending intently over the English lady who had
been l^llled by the shell.
3
48 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
^^ Any thing remarkable,'^ he asked, ^ in the manner of that
poor creature's death ?"
"Nothing to put in a newspaper," retorted the cynic, pur-
suing his investigations as attentively as ever.
" Interesting to a doctor eh ?" said Horace.
" Yes. Interesting to a doctor," was the grufE reply.
Horace good-humoredly accepted the hint implied in those
words. He quitted the room by the door leading into the
yard, and waited for the charming Englishwoman, as he had
been instructed, outside the cottage.
I^eft by himself, Ignatius Wetzel, after a first cautious look
all round him, opened the upper part of Grace's dress, and
laid his left hand on her heart. Taking a little steel instru-
ment from his waistcoat pocket with the other hand, he ap-
plied it carefully to the wound, raised a morsel of the broken
and lepressed bone of the skull, and waited for the result
"Alia I" ho cried, addressing with a terrible gayety the sense-
IcHH creature under his hands. "The Frenchman says you
are dead, my dear does he? The Frenchman is a Quack!
The Frenchman is an Ass !" He lifted his head, and called
into the kitchen. " Max I" A sleepy young German, cover-
ed with a dresser's apron from his chin to his feet, drew the
curtain, and waited for his instructions. " Bring me my black
ba^," said Ignatius Wetzel. Having given that order, he
nibbed his hands cheerfully, and shook himself like a dog.
" Now I am quite happy," croaked the terrible old man, with
his fierce eyes leering sidelong at the bed. " My dear, dead
KiigliHh woman, I would not have missed this meeting with
you for all the money I have in the world. Ha ! you infernal
IVench Quack, you call it death, do you ? I call it suspended
animation from pressure on the brain !"
Max appeared with the black bag.
Ii^natius Wetzel selected two fearful instruments, bright
and new, and hugged them to his bosom. "My little boys,"
he said, tenderly, as if they were his children ; " my blessed
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 49
little boys, come to work!" He turned to the assistant.
"Do you remember the battle of SoHerino, Max and the
Austrian soldier I operated on for a wound on the head ?"
The assistant's sleepy eyes opened wide ; he was evidently
interested. " I remember," he said. " I held the candle."
The master led the way to the bed.
^^ I am not satisfied with the result of that operation at Sol-
ferino," he said ; " I have wanted to try again ever since. It's
true that I saved the man's life, but I failed to give him back
his reason along with it. It might have been something wrong
in the operation, or it might have been something wrong in
the man. Whichever it was, he will live and die mad. Now
look here, my little Max, at this dear young lady on the bed.
She gives me just what I wanted ; here is the case at Solfe-
rino once more. You shall hold the candle again, my good
boy ; stand there, and look with all your eyes. I am going to
try if I can save the life and the reason too this time."
He tacked up the cuffs of his coat and began the operation.
As his fearful instruments touched Grace's head, the voice
of the sentinel at the nearest outpost was heard, giving the
word in Grerman which permitted Mercy to take the first step
on her journey to England :
" Pass the English lady I"
The operation proceeded. The voice of the sentinel at the
next post was heard more faintly, in its turn :
Pass the English lady !"
The operation ended. Ignatius Wetzel held up his hand
for silence and put his ear close to the patient's mouth.
The first trembling breath of returning life fluttered over
Grace Roseberry's lips, and touched the old man's wrinkled
cheek. "Aha!" he cried. "Good girl! you breathe you
live !" As he spoke, the voice of the sentinel at the final limit
of the German lines (barely audible in the distance) gave the
word for the last time :
, " Pass the English lady !"
50 THE NEW MAGDALSN.
SECOND SCENE.
i9lablieti)onie iQoitse.
PREAMBLE.
Thi place is England.
The time is winter, in the year eighteen handred and ser-
enty.
The pei-sons are, Jalian Gray, Horace Holmcrof t, Lady Ja-
net Roy, Grace Roseberry, and Mercy Merrick.
CHAPTER VI.
LADY Janet's companion.
It is a glorious winter's day. The sky is clear, the frost ifl
hard, the ice bears for skating.
The dining-room of the ancient mansion called Mabletfaorpe
House, situated in the London suburb of Kensington, is fa-
mous among artists and other persons of taste for the carved
wood-work, of Italian origin, which covers the walls on three
sides. On the fourth side the march of modern improvement
has broken in, and has varied and brightened the scene by
means of a conservatory, forming an entrance to the room
through a winter- garden of rare plants and flowers. On your
right hand, as you stand fronting the conservatory, the mo-
notony of the paneled wall is relieved by a quaintly patterned
door of old inlaid wood, leading into the library, and thenoei
across the great hall, to the other reception-rooms of fhe
THB NEW 3CAGDALBK 51
^ouse. A corresponding door on the left hand gives access
to the billiard-room, to the smoking-room next to it, and to a
smaller hall commanding one of the secondary entrances to
the building. On the left side also is the ample fire-place,
surmounted by its marble mantel-piece, carved in the profuse-
ly and confusedly ornate style of eighty years since. To the
educated eye the dining-room, with its modern furniture and
conservatory, its ancient walls and doors, and its lofty mantel-
piece (neither very old nor very new), presents a startling, al-
most a revolutionary, mixture of the decorative workmanship
of widely differing schools. To the ignorant eye the one re-
sult produced is an impression of perfect luxury and comfort,
united in the friendliest combination, and developed on the
largest scale.
The clock has just struck two. The table is spread for
luncheon.
The persons seated at the table are three in number. First,
Lady Janet Roy. Second, a young lady who is her reader
and companion. Third, a guest staying in the house, who
has already appeared in these pages under the name of Hor-
ace Holmcroft attached to the German army as war corre-
spondent of an English newspaper.
Lady Janet Roy needs but little introduction. Every body
with the slightest pretension to experience in London society
knows Lady Janet Roy.
Who has not heard of her old lace and her priceless rubies ?
Who has not admired her commanding figure, her beautifully
dressed white hair, her wonderful black eyes, which still pre-
serve their youthful brightness, after first opening on the
world seventy years since ? Who has not felt the charm of
her frank, easily flowing talk, her inexhaustible spirits, her
good-humored, gracious sociability of manner? Where is
the modem hermit who is not familiarly acquainted, by hear-
say at least, with the fantastic novelty and humor of her opin-
ions; with her generous encouragement of rising merit of
62 THE NEW MAODALBK.
any Bort, in all ranks, high or low ; with her charities, which
know no distinction between abroad and at home ; with her
largo indulgence, which no ingratitude can discourage, and no
servility pervert? Every body hiis beard of the popular old
lady the childish widow of a long-forgotten lord. Every .
body knows Lady Janet Roy.
But who knows the handsome young woman sitting on her
right hand, playing with her luncheon instead of eating it?
Nobody really knows her.
She is prettily dressed in gray poplin, trimmed with gray
velvety and set off by a ribbon of deep red tied, in a bow at
the throat. She is nearly as tall as Lady Janet herself, and
possesses a grace and beauty of figure not always seen in
women who rise above the medium height. Judging by a
certain innate grandeur in the carriage of her head and in the
expression of her large melancholy gray eyes, believers in
blood and breeding will be apt to guess that this is another
noble lady. Alas ! she is nothing but Lady Janet's compan-
ion and reader. Her head, crowned with its lovely light
brown hair, bends with a gentle respect when Lady Janet
speaks. Her fine firm hand is easily and incessantly watchful
to supply Lady Janet's slightest wants. The old lady af-
fectionately familiar with her speaks to her as she might
speak to an adopted child. But the gratitude of the beauti-
ful companion has always the same restraint in its acknowl-
edgment of kindness ; the smile of the beautiful companion
has always the same underlying sadness when it responds to
Lady Janet's hearty laugh. Is there something wrong here,
under the surface ? Is she suffering in mind, or suffering in
body ? What is the matter with her ?
The matter with her is secret remorse. This delicate and
beautiful creature pines under the slow torment of constant
self-reproach.
To the mistress of the house, and to all who inhabit it or
enter it, she is known as Grace Roseberry, the orphan rel*
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 53
tive by marriage of Lady Janet Roy. To herself alone she
is known as the outcast of the London streets ; the inmate
of the London Refuge ; the lost woman who has stolen her
way back after vainly trying to fight her way back to
Home and Name. There she sits in the grim shadow of her
own terrible secret, disguised in another person's identity,
and established in another person's place. Mercy Merrick
had only to dare, and to become Grace Roseberry if she
pleased. She has dared, and she has been Grace Roseberry
for nearly four months past.
At this moment, while Lady Janet is talking to Horace
Holmcroft, something that has passed between them has set
her thinking of the day when she took the first fatal step
which committed her to the fraud.
How marvelously easy of accomplishment the act of per-
sonation bad been ! At first sight Lady Janet had yielded
to the fascination of the noble and interesting face. No need
to present the stolen letter; no need to repeat the ready-
made story. The old lady had put the letter aside unopened,
and had stopped the story at the first words. " Your face is
your introduction, my dear ; your father can say nothing for
you which you have not already said for yourself." There
was the welcome which established her firmly in her false
identity at the outset. Thanks to her own experience, and
thanks to the " Journal " of events at Rome, questions about
her life in Canada and questions about Colonel Roseberry's
illness found her ready with answers which (even if suspi-
cion had existed) would have disarmed suspicion on the spot.
While the true Grace was slowly and painfully winning her
way back to life on her bed in a German hospital, the false
Grace was presented to Lady Janet's friends as the relative
by marriage of the mistress of Mablethorpe House. From
that time forward nothing had happened to rouse in her the
faintest suspicion that Grace Roseberry was other than a
dead-and-buried woman. So far as she now knew so far as
54 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
any one now knew she might live out her life in perfect
security (if her conscience would let her), respected, distin-
guished, and beloved, in the position which she had asui*ped.
She rose abruptly from the table. The effort of her life
was to shake herself free of the remembrances which haunted
her perpetually as they were haunting her now. Her mem-
ory was her worst enemy; her one refuge from it was in
change of occupation and change of scene.
" May I go into the conservatory, Lady Janet ?" she asked.
" Certainly, my dear."
She bent her head to her protectress, looked for a moment
with a steady, compassionate attention at Horace Holmcroft,
and, slowly crossing the room, entered the winter -garden.
The eyes of Horace followed her, as long as she was in yiew,
with a curious contradictory expression of admiration and
disapproval. When she had passed out of sight the admira-
tion vanished, but the disapproval remained. The face of the
young man contracted into a frown: he sat silent, with his
fork in his hand, playing absently with the fragments on his
plate.
" Take some French pie, Horace," said Lady Janet.
" No, thank you."
" Some more chicken, then ?"
" No more chicken."
" Will nothing tempt you ?"
" I will take some more wine, if you will allow me."
He filled his glass (for the fifth or sixth time) with claret,
and emptied it sullenly at a draught. Lady Janet's bright
eyes watched him with sardonic attention; Lady Janet's
ready tongue spoke out as freely as usual what was passing
in her mind at the time.
" The air of Kensington doesn't seem to suit you, my young
friend," she said. " The longer you have been my guest, the
oftener you fill your glass and empty your cigar-case. Those
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 55
are bad signs in a young man. When you iirst came here
you arrived invalided by a wound. In your place, I should
not have exposed myself to be shot, with no other object in
view than describing a battle in a newspaper. I suppose
tastes differ. Are you ill? Does your wound still plague
you ?"
" Not in the least."
"Are you out of spirits?"
Horace Holmcroft dropped his fork, rested his elbows on
the table, and answered, "Awfully."
Even Lady Janet's large toleration had its limits. It em-
braced every human offense except a breach of good manners.
She snatched up the nearest weapon of correction at hand a
table-spoon and rapped her young friend smartly with it on
the arm that was nearest to her.
" My table is not the club table," said the old lady. " Hold
up your head. Don't look at your fork look at me. I al-
low nobody to be out of spirits in My house. I consider it
to be a reflection on Me. If our quiet life here doesn't suit
you, say so plainly, and find something else to do. There is
employment to be had, I suppose if you choose to apply for
it ? You needn't smile. I don't want to see your teeth I
want an answer."
Horace admitted, with all needful gravity, that there was
employment to be had. The war between France and Grer-
many, he remarked, was still going on : the newspaper had
offered to employ him again in the capacity of correspondent.
"Don't speak of the newspapers and the war!" cried Lady
Janet, with a sudden explosion of anger, which was genuine
anger this time. " I detest the newspapers ! I won't allow
the newspapers to enter this house. I lay the whole blame of
the blood shed between France and Germany at their door."
Horace's eyes opened wide in amazement. The old lady
was evidently in earnest. " What can you possibly mean ?"
he asked. "Are the newspapers responsible for the war ?"
3*
66 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
"Entirely responsible," answered Lady Janet "Why,*
you don't understand the age you live in ! Does any body
do any thing nowadays (fighting included) without wishing
to see it in the newspapers ? I subscribe to a charity ; i^um
art presented with a testimonial ; he preaches a sermon ; tM
suffer a grievance ; you make a discovery ; tjiey go to church
and get married. And I, thou, he ; we, you, they, all want
one and the same thing we want to see it in the papers.
Are kings, soldiers, and diplomatists exceptions to the gen-
eral rule of humanity ? Not they ! I tell you seriously, il
the newspapers of Europe had one and all decided not to
take the smallest notice in print of the war between France
and Germany, it is my firm conviction the war would have
come to an end for want of encouragement long since. Let
the pen cease to advertise the sword, and I, for one, can see
the result. No rep6rt ^no fighting."
" Your views have the merit of perfect novelty, ma'am,"
said Horace. " Would you object to see them in the newfr;
papers ?"
Lady Janet worsted her young friend with his own weap-
ons.
" Don't I live in the latter part of the nineteenth century ?"
she asked. " In the newspapers, did you say ? In large type,
Horace, if you love me !"
Horace changed the subject.
" You blame me for being out of spirits," he said ; " and
you seem to think it is because I am tired of my pleasant life
at Mablethorpe House. I am not in the least tired, Lady
Janet." He looked toward the conservatoiy : the frown
showed itself on his face once more. " The truth is," he re-
sumed, " I am not satisfied with Grace RosebeiTy."
What has Grace done ?"
"She persists in prolonging our engagement. Nothing
will persuade her to fix the day for our marriage."
It was true I Mercy had been mad enough, to listen to
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 57
liim, and to love him. But Mercy was not vile enough to
marry him under her false character, and in her false name.
Between three and four months had elapsed since Horace had
been sent home from the war, wounded, and had found the
beautiful Englishwoman whom he had befriended in France
established at Mablethorpe House. Invited to become Lady
Janet's guest (he had passed his holidays as a school-boy un-
der Lady Janet's roof) free to spend the idle time of his
convalescence from morning to night in Mercy's society the
impression originally produced on him in a French cottage
soon strengthened into love. Before the month was out Hor-
ace had declared himself, and had discovered that he spoke
to willing ears. From that moment it was only a question
of persisting long enough in the resolution to gain his point.
The marriage engagement was ratified most reluctantly on
the lady's side and there the further progress of Hor-
ace Holmcroft's suit came to an end. Try as he might, he
failed to persuade his betrothed wife to fix the day for the
marriage. There were no obstacles in her way. She had no
near relations of her own to consult. As a connection of
Lady Janet's by marriage, Horace's mother and sisters were
ready to receive her with all the honors due to a new mem-
ber of the family. No pecuniary considerations made it nec-
essary, in this case, to wait for a favorable time. Horace was
an only son ; and he had succeeded to his father's estate with
an ample income to support it. On both sides alike there
was absolutely nothing to prevent the two young people
from being married as soon as the settlements could be drawn.
And yet, to all appearance, here was a long engagement in
prospect, with no better reason than the lady's incomprehen-
sible perversity to explain the delay.
"Can you account for Grace's conduct?" asked Lady
Janet. Her manner changed as she put the question. She
looked and spoke like a person who was perplexed and an-
noyed:
58 THB NBW MAODALBN.
" I hardly like to own it,'* Horace answered, " but I am
afraid she has some motive for deferring oar marriage which
she can not confide either to you or to me.'*
Ludy Janet started.
" What makes you think that?" she asked.
"I have once or twice caught her in tears. Every now
and then sometimes when she is talking quite gayly she
suddenly changes color and becomes silent and depressed.
Just now, when she left the table (didn't you notice it ?), she
looked at me in the strangest way almost as if she was
sorry for me. What do these things mean ?"
Horace's reply, instead of increasing Lady Janet's anxiety,
seemed to relieve it. He had observed nothing which she
had not noticed herself. " You foolbh boy ?" she said, " the
meaning is plain enough. Grace has been out of health for
some time past. The doctor recommends change of air. I
shall take her away with me."
"It would be more to the purpose," Horace rejoined, "if
I took her away with me. She might consent, if you would
only use your influence. Is it asking too much to ask you to
persuade her? My mother and my sisters have written to
her, and have produced no effect. Do me the greatest of all
kindnesses speak to her to-day !" He paused, and possess-
ing himself of Lady Janet's hand, pressed it entreatingly.
" You have always been so good to me," he said, softly, and
pressed it again.
The old lady looked at him. It was impossible to dispute
that there were attractions in Horace Holmcroft's face which
made it well worth looking at. Many a woman might have
envied him his clear complexion, his bright blue eyes, and the
warm amber tint in his light Saxon hair. Men especially
men skilled in observing physiognomy might have noticed
in the shape of his forehead and in the line of his upper lip
the signs indicative of a moral nature deficient in largeness
and breadth of a mind easily accessible to strong prejudices,
\
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 59
and obstinate in maintaining those prejudices in the face of
conviction itself. To the observation of women these remote
defects were too far below the surface to be visible. He
charmed the sex in general by his rare personal advantages,
and by the graceful deference of his manner. To Lady Janet
he was endeared, not by his own merits only, but by old asso-
ciations that were connected with him. His father had been
one of her many admirers in her young days. Circumstances
had parted them. Her marriage to another man had been a
childless marriage. In past times, when the boy Horace had
come to her from school, she had cherished a secret fancy
(too absurd to be communicated to any living creature) that
he ought to have been her son, and might have been her son,
if she had married his father I She smiled charmingly, old
as she was she yielded as his mother might have yielded
when the young man took her hand and entreated her to in-
terest herself in his marriage. "Must I really speak to
Grace ?" she asked, with a gentleness of tone and manner far
from characteristic, on ordinary occasions, of the lady of
Mablethorpe House. Horace saw that he had gained his
point. He sprang to his feet ; his eyes turned eagerly in the
direction of the conservatory ; his handsome face was radiant
with hope. Lady Janet (with her mind full of his father)
stole a last look at him, sighed as she thought of the vanished
days, and recovered herself.
" Go to the smoking-room," she said, giving him a push
toward the door. "Away with you, and cultivate the far
vorite vice of the nineteenth century." Horace attempted to
express his gratitude. " Go and smoke !" was all she said,
pushing him out. " Go and smoke."
Left by herself, Lady Janet took a turn in the room, and
considered a little.
Horace's discontent was not unreasonable. There was real-
ly no excuse for the delay of which he complained. Whether
the yonng lady had a special motive for hanging back, or
60 THE NEW MAQDALBN.
whether she was merely fretting because she did not know
her own mind, it was, in either case, necessary to come to a
distinct understanding, sooner or later, on the serious ques-
tion of the marriage. The difficulty was, how to approach
the subject without giving offense. ^^ I donH understand the
young women of the present generation," thought Lady Janet
" In my time, when we were fond of a man, we were ready to
marry him at a moment's notice. And this is an age of prog-
ress ! They ought to be readier still."
Arriving, by her own process of induction, at this inevita-
ble conclusion, she decided to try what her influence could .
accomplish, and to trust to the inspiration of the moment for
exerting it in the right way. " Grace !" she called out ap-
proaching the conservatory door. The tall, lithe figure in its
gray dress glided into view, and stood relieved against the
green background of the winter-garden.
" Did your ladyship call me ?"
" Yes ; I want to speak to you. Come and sit down by
me."
With those words Lady Janet led the way to a sofa, and
l)laced her companion by her side.
CHAPTER VII.
THE MAX IS COMING.
" You look very pale this morning, my child."
Mercy sighed wearily. "I am not well," she answered.
" The slightest noises startle me. I feel tired if I only walk
across the room."
Lady Janet patted her kindly on the shoulder. " We must
try what a change will do for you. Which shall it be ? the
Continent or the sea-side ?"
" Your ladyship is too kind to me."
" It is impossible to be too kind to you."
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 61
Mercy started. The color flowed charmingly over her pale
face. " Oh !" she exclaimed, impulsively. " Say that again !"
" Say it again ?" repeated Lady Janet, with a look of sur-
prise.
" Yes ! Don't think me presuming ; only think me vain.
I can't hear you say too often that you have learned to like
me. Is it really a pleasure to you to have me in the house ?
' Have I always behaved well since I have been with you ?"
(The one excuse for the act of personation if excuse there
could be lay in the affirmative answer to those questions.
It would be something, surely, to say of the false Grace that
the true Grace could not have been worthier of her welcome,
if the true Grace had been received at Mablethorpe House !)
Lady Janet was partly touched, partly amused by the ex-
traordinary earnestness of the appeal that had been made to
her.
" Have you behaved well ?" she repeated. " My dear, you
talk as if you were a child !" She laid her hand cai*essingly
on Mercy's arm, and continued, in a graver tone : " It is hard-
ly too much to say, Grace, that I bless the day when you first
came to me. I do believe I could be hardly fonder of you if
you were my own daughter."
Mercy suddenly turned her head aside, so as to hide her
face. Lady Janet, still touching her arm, felt it tremble.
" What is the matter with you ?" she asked, in her abrupt,
downright manner.
" I am only very grateful to your ladyship that is all."
Tlie words were spoken faintly, in broken tones. The face
was still averted from Lady Janet's view. "What have I
said to provoke this ?" wondered the old lady. " Is she in
the melting mood to-day ? If she is, now is the time to say
a word for Horace !" Keeping that excellent object in view,
Lady Janet approached the delicate, topic with all needful
caution at starting.
^ We have got on so well together," she resumed, " that it
62 THB NEW MAGDALBN.
will not be easy for either of ns to fed reconciled to a change
in oar lives. At my age, it will fall hardest on me. What
shall I do, Grace, when the day comes for parting with my
adopted daughter?^
Mercy started, and showed her face again. The traces of
tears were in her eyes. '^ Why should I leave you f " ahe ask-
ed, in a tone of darm.
*^ Surely you know !'' exclaimed Lady Janet
" Indeed I don't. TeU me why.*'
"Ask Horace to tell you.'*
Tlic lost allusion was too plain to be misunderstood. Mer-
cy's liead drooped. She began to tremble again. Lady
Janet looked at her in blank amazement.
" Is tliore any thing wrong between Horace and you ?" she
asked.
" No."
" You know your own heart, my dear child ? You have
surely not encouraged Horace without loving him ?"
Oh no !"
" And yet"
For the first time in their experience of each other Mercy
vc^ntiired to interrupt her benefactress. "Dear Lady Janet,"
she interposed, gently, "I am in no hurry to be married.
Thcu'e will be plenty of time in the future to talk of that.
You had something you wished to say to me. What is it?"
It was no easy matter to disconcert Lady Janet Roy.
liut that last question fairly reduced her to silence. After
all that liad passed, there sat her young companion, innocent
of the faintest suspicion of the subject that was to be dis-
cussed between them ! " What are the young women of the
present time made of?" thought the old lady, utterly at a loss
to know what to say next. Mercy waited, ou her side, with
an impenetrable patience which only aggravated the difficul-
ties of the position. Tlie silence was fast threatening to
bring the interview to a sudden and untimely end, when the
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 63
door from the library opened, and a man-servant, bearing a
little silver salver, entered the room.
Lady Janet's rising sense of annoyance instantly seized on
the servant as a victim. "What do you want?" she asked,
sharply. " I never rang for you."
"A letter, my lady. The messenger waits for an answer."
The man presented his salver with the letter on it, and
withdrew.
Lady Janet recognized the handwriting on the address
with a look of surprise. " Excuse me, my dear," she said,
pausing, with her old-fashioned courtesy, before she opened
the envelope. Mercy made the necessary acknowledgment,
and moved away to the other end of the room, little think-
ing that the arrival of the letter marked a crisis in her life.
Lady Janet put on her spectacles. "Odd that he should
have come back already !" she said to herself, as she threw
the empty envelope on the table.
The letter contained these lines, the writer of them being
no other than the man who had preached in the chapel of the
Refuge :
"Deab Aunt, ^I am back again in London before my
time. My friend the rector has shortened his holiday, and
has resumed his duties in the country. I am afraid you will
blame me when you hear of the reasons which have hastened
his return. The sooner I make my confession, the easier I
shall feel. Besides, I have a special object in wishing to see
you as soon as possible. May I follow my letter to Mable-
thorpe House ? And may I present a lady to you a perfect
stranger ^in whom I am interested ? Pray say Yes, by the
bearer, and oblige your affectionate nephew,
"Julian Gray."
Lady Janet refen*ed again suspiciously to the sentence in
the letter which alluded to the " lady."
64 THE NEW UAGDALCX.
Julian Gray was her only Burviviug nephew, the son of a
favorite sister whom she had lost. He would have held no
veiy exalted position in the estimation of his aunt who re-
garded his views in politics and religion with the strongest
aversion but for his marked resemblance to his mother.
This pleaded for him with the old lady, aided as it was by
the pride that she secretly felt in the early celebrity which
the young clergyman had achieved as a writer and a preacher.
Thanks to these mitigating circumstances, and to Julian's in-
exhaustible good-humor, the aunt and the nephew generally
met on friendly terms. Apart from what she called ^^ his de-
testable opinions,'' Lady Janet was sufficiently interested in
Julian to feel some curiosity about the mysterious "lady**
mentioned in the letter. Had he determined to settle in
life ? Was his choice already made ? And if so, would it
prove to be a choice acceptable to the family ? Lady Janet's
bright face showed signs of doubt as she asked herself that
last question. Julian's liberal views were capable of leading
him to dangerous extremes. His aunt shook her head ominous-
ly as she rose from the sofa and advanced to the library door.
" Grace," she said, pausing and turning round, " I have a
note to write to my nephew. I shall be back directly."
Mercy approached her, from the opposite extremity of the
room, with an exclamation of surprise.
"Your nephew?" she repeated. "Your ladyship never
told me you had a nephew."
Lady Janet laughed. " I must have had it on the tip of
my tongue to tell you, over and over again," she said. " But
we have had so many things to talk about and, to own the
truth, my nephew is not one of my favorite subjects of con-
versation. I don't mean that I dislike him ; I detest his prin-
ciples, my dear, that's all. However, you shall form your
own opinion of him ; he is coming to see me to-day. Wait
here till I return ; I have something more to say about Hor-
ace."
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 65
Mercy opened the library door for her, closed it again, ancj
walked slowly to and fro alone in the room, thinking.
Was her mind running on Lady Janet's nephew ? No.
Lady Janet's brief allasion to her relative had not led her into
alluding to him by his name. Mercy was still as ignorant as
ever that the preacher at the Refuge and the nephew of her
benefactress were one and the same man. Her memory was
busy now with the tribute which Lady Janet had paid to her
at the outset of the interview between them : " It is hardly
too much to say, Grace, that I bless the day when you first
came to me.'' For the moment there was balm for her
wounded spirit in the remembrance of those words. Grace
Roseberry herself could surely have earned no sweeter praise
than the praise that she had won. The next instant she
was seized with a sudden horror of her own successful fraud.
The sense of her degradation had never been so bitterly pres-
ent to her as at that moment. If she could only confess
the truth ^if she could innocently enjoy her harmless life at
Mablethoi-pe House what a grateful, happy woman she might
be ! Was it possible (if she made the confession) to trust to
her own good conduct to plead her excuse ? No ! Her calm-
er sense warned her that it was hopeless. The place she had
won honestly won in Lady Janet's estimation had been
obtained by a trick. Nothing could alter, nothing could ex-
cuse that. She took out her handkerchief and dashed away
the useless tears that had gathered in her eyes, and tried to turn
her thoughts some other way. What was it Lady Janet had
said on going into the library ? She had said she was com-
ing back to speak about Horace. Mercy guessed what tlic
object was ; she knew but too well what Horace wanted of
her. How was she to meet the emergency ? In the name of
Heaven, what was to be done? Could she let the man who
loved her the man whom she loved ^^drift blindfold into
marrii^ with such a woman as she had been ? No I it was
her duty to warn him. How ? Could she break his heart,
66 TUB NEW MAGDALEN.
could she lay his life wi8te by speaking the cmel words
which might part them forever ? "I can't tell him ! I won't
tell him !" she burst out, passionately. " The disgrace of it
would kill me !" Her varying mood changed as the words
escaped her. A reckless defiance of her own better nature
that saddest of all the forms in which a woman's misery can
express itself filled her heart with its poisoning bitterness.
She sat down again on the sofa with eyes that glittered and
cheeks suffused with an angry red. '^I am no worse than
another woman !" she thought. "Another woman might have
married him for his money." The next moment the misera-
ble insufficiency of her own excuse for deceiving him showed
its hollowness, self-exposed. She covered her face with her
hands, and found refuge where she had often found refuge
before in the helpless resignation of despair. Oh, that I had
died before I entered this house ! Oh, that I could die and
have done with it at this moment I" So the straggle had
ended with her hundreds of times already. So it ended now.
The door leading into the billiard-room opened softly.
Horace Holmcroft had waited to hear the result of Lady Ja-
net's interference in his favor until he could wait no longer.
He looked in cautiously, ready to withdraw again unnoticed
if the two were still talking together. The absence of Lady
Janet suggested that the interview had come to an end. Was
his betrothed wife waiting alone to speak to him on his re-
turn to the room? He advanced a few steps. She never
moved ; she sat heedless, absorbed in her thoughts. Were
they thoughts of him ? He advanced a little nearer, and
called to her.
Grace I"
She sprang to her feet, with a faint cry. "I wish you
wouldn't startle me," she said, irritably, sinking back on the
sofa. "Any sudden alarm sets my heart beating as if it
would choke me."
THE NSW MAGDALEN. 67
Horace pleaded for pardon with a lover's humility. In her
present state of nervoas irritation she was not to be appeased.
She looked away from him in silence. Entirely ignorant of
the paroxysm of mental suffering through which she had just
passed, he seated himself by her side, and asked her gently if
she had seen Lady Janet. She made an affirmative answer
with an unreasonable impatience of tone and manner which
would have warned an older and more experienced man to
give her time before he spoke again. Horace was young,
and weary of the suspense that he had endured in the other
room. He unwisely pressed her with another question.
** Has Lady Janet said any thing to you "
She turned on him angrily before he could finish the sen-
tence. " You have tried to make her hurry me into marry-
ing you," she burst out. " I see it in your face !"
Plain as the warning was this time, Horace still failed to
interpret it in the right way. " Don't be angry !" he said,
good-humoredly. " Is it so very inexcusable to ask Lady Ja-
net to intercede for me ? I have tried to persuade you in
vain. My mother and my sisters have pleaded for me, and
you turn a deaf ear "
She could endure it no longer. She stamped her foot on
the floor with hysterical vehemence. "I am weary of hear-
ing of your mother and your sisters !" she broke in violently.
" You talk of nothing else."
^It was just possible to make one more mistake in dealing
with her and Horace made it. He took offense, on his side,
and rose from the sofa. His mother and sisters were high
authorities in his estimation ; they variously represented his
ideal of perfection in women. He withdrew to the opposite
extremity of the room, and administered the severest reproof
that he could think of on the spur of the moment.
** It would be well, Grace, if you followed the example set
you by my mother and my sisters," he said. " They are not
in the habit of speaking cruelly to those who love them."
68 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
To all appearance the rebuke failed to produce the slight-
est efEect. She seemed to be as indifEerent to it as if it had
not reached her ears. There was a spirit in her a misera-
ble spirit, bom of her own bitter experience which rose
in revolt against Horace's habitual glorification of the ladies
of his family. " It sickens me,'* she thought to herself, " to
hear of the virtues of women who have never been tempted I
Where is the merit of living reputably, when your life is one
course of prosperity and enjoyment ? Has his mother known
starvation ? Have his sisters been left forsaken in the street?**
It hardened her heart it almost reconciled her to deceiving
him when he set his relatives up as patterns for her. Would
he never understand, that women detested having other wom-
en exhibited as examples to them ? She looked round at him
with a sense of impatient wonder. He was sitting at the
luncheon-table, with his back turned on her, and his head rest-
ing on his hand. If he had attempted to rejoin her, she
would have repelled him ; if he had spoken, she would have
met him with a sharp reply. He sat apart from her, without
uttering a word. In a man's hands silence is the most ter-
rible of all protests to the woman who loves him. Violence
she can endure. Words she is always ready to meet by
words on her side. Silence conquers her. After a moment's
hesitation, Mercy left tlie sofa and advanced submissively to-
ward the table. She had offended him and she alone was
in fault. How sliould he know it, poor fellow, when he in-
nocently mortified her? Step by step she drew closer and
closer. He never looked round ; he never moved. She laid
her hand timidly on his shoulder. "Forgive me, Horace,"
she whispered in his ear. " I am suffering this morning ; I
am not myself. I didn't mean what I said. Pray forgive
me." There was no resisting the caressing tenderness of
voice and manner which accompanied those words. He look-
ed up ; he took her hand. She bent over him, and touched
his forehead with her lips. " Am I forgiven ?" she asked.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 69
Oh, my darling," he said, " if you only knew how I loved
you I"
**I do know it," she answered, gently, twining his hair
round her finger, and arranging it OA^er his forehead where
his hand had ruffled it.
They were completely absorbed in each other, or they must,
at that moment, have heard the library door open at the other
end of the room.
Lady Janet had written the necessary reply to her nephew,
and had returned, faithful to her engagement, to plead the
cause of Horace. The first object that met her view was her
client pleading, with conspicuous success, for himself I "I
am not wanted, evidently," thought the old lady. She noise-
lessly closed the door again, and left the lovers by them-
selves.
Horace returned, with unwise persistency, to the question
of the deferred marriage. At the first words that he spoke
she drew back directly sadly, not angrily.
" Don't press me to-day," she said ; " I am not well to-day."
He rose and looked at her anxiously. " May I speak ab6ut
it to-morrow ?"
" Yes, to-morrow." She returned to the sofa, and changed
the subject. "What a time Lady Janet is away !" she said.
" What can be keeping her so long ?"
Horace did his best to appear interested in the question
of Lady Janet's prolonged absence. " What made her leave
you ?" he asked, standing at the back of the sofa and leaning
over her.
" She went into the library to write a note to her nephew.
By-the-bye, who is her nephew ?"
" Is it possible you don't know ?"
" Indeed I don't."
"You have heard of him, no doubt," said Horace. "Lady
Janet's nephew is a celebrated man." He paused, and stoop-
ing nearer to her, lifted a love-lock that lay over her shoulder,
70 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
and pressed it to his lips. ^^ Lady Janet's nephew/' he re-
sumed, " is Julian Gray.'*
She started off her seat, and looked round at him in blank,
bewildered terror, as if she doubted the evidence of her own
senses.
Horace was completely taken by surprise. ^^My dear
Grace !" he exclaimed ; ^' what have I said or done to startle
you this time ?"
She held up her hand for silence. ^^ Lady Janet's nephew
is Julian Gray," she repeated ; " and I only know it now I"
Horace's perplexity increased. " My darling, now you do
know it, what is there to alarm you ?" he asked.
(There was enough to alarm the boldest woman living ^in
such a position, and with such a temperament as hers. To
her mind the personation of Grace Roseberry had sudd^y
assumed a new aspect : the aspect of a fatality. It had led
her blindfold to the house in which she and the preacher at
the Refuge were to meet. He was coming the man who had
reached her inmost heart, who had influenced her whole life !
Was the day of reckoning coming with him?)
" Don't notice me," she said, faintly. " I have been ill all
the morning. You saw it yourself when you came in here ;
even the sound of your voice alarmed me. I shall be better
directly. I am afraid I startled you ?"
" My dear Grace, it almost looked as if you were terrified
at the sound of Julian's name ! He is a public celebrity, I
know ; and I have seen ladies start and stare at him when he
entered a room. But you looked perfectly panic-stricken."
She rallied her courage by a desperate effort ; she laughed
a harsh, uneasy laugh and stopped him by putting her
hand over his mouth. "Absurd !" she said, lightly. "As if
Mr. Julian Gray had any thing to do with my looks ! I am
better already. See for yourself !" She looked round at him
again with a ghastly gayety ; and returned, with a desper-
ate assumption of indifference, to the subject of Lady Janet's
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 71
nephew. "Of course I have heard of him," she said. "Do
you know that lie is expected here to-day? Don't stand
there behind me it's so hard to talk to you. Come and sit
down."
He obeyed but she had not quite satisfied him yet His
face had not lost its expression of anxiety and surprise. She
persisted in playing her part, determined to set at rest in him
any possible suspicion that she had reasons of her own for
being afraid of Julian Gray. "Tell me about this famous
man of yours," she said, putting her arm familiarly through
his arm. " What is he like ?"
The caressing action and the easy tone had their effect on
Horace. His face began to clear ; he answered her lightly on
his side.
"Prepare yourself to meet the most unclerical of clergy-
men," he said. " Julian is a lost sheep among the parsons,
and a thorn in the side of his bishop. Preaches, if they ask
him, in Dissenters' chapels. Declines to set up any preten-
sions to priestly authority and priestly power. Goes about
doing good on a plan of his own. Is quite resigned never to
rise to the high places in his profession. Says it's rising high
enough for him to be the Archdeacon of the afflicted, the
Dean of the hungry, and the Bishop of the poor. With all
his oddities, as good a fellow as ever lived. Immensely pop-
ular with the women. They all go to him for advice. I wish
yon would go too."
Mercy changed color. " What do you mean ?" she asked,
sharply.
"Julian is famous for his powers of persuasion," said Hor-
ace, smiling. " If Tie spoke to you, Grace, he would prevail on
you to fix the day. Suppose I ask Julian to plead for me ?"
He made the proposal in jest. Mercy's unquiet mind ac-
cepted it as addressed to her in earnest. " He will do it," she
thought, with a sense of indescribable terror, " if I don't stop
him !" There is but one chance for her. The only certain
4
72 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
way to prevent Horace from appealing to his friend was to
grant what Horace wished for before his friend entered the
hoase. She laid her hand on his shoulder; she hid the terri-
ble anxieties that were devouring her under an assumption of
coquetry painful and pitiable to see.
" Don't talk nonsense !" she said, gayly. " What were we
saying just now before we began' to speak of Mr. Julian
Gray ?"
" We were wondering what had become of Lady Janet,"
Horace replied.
She tapped him impatiently on the shoulder. " No ! no !
It was something you said before that."
Her eyes completed what her words had left unsaid. Hor-
ace's arm stole round her waist.
" I was saying that I loved you," he answered, in a whisper.
"Only that?''
" Are you tired of hearing it ?"
She smiled charmingly. "Are you so very much in ear-
nest about about " She stopped, and looked away from
him.
"About our marriage?"
" Yes."
" It is the one dearest wish of my life."
" Really ?"
" Really."
There was a pause. Mercy's fingers toyed nervously with
the trinkets at her watch-chain. " When would you like it
to be ?" she said, very softly, with her whole attention fixed
on the watch-chain.
She had never spoken, she had never looked, as she spoke
and looked now. Horace was afraid to believe in his own
good fortune. " Oh, Grace I" he exclaimed, " you are not tri-
flinsj with me?"
" What makes you think I am trifling with you ?"
Horace was innocent enough to answer her seriously.
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 73
"Tou would not even let me speak of our marriage just
now," he said.
"Never mind what I did just now," she retorted, petulant-
ly. " They say women are changeable. It is one of the de-
fects of the sex."
" Heaven be praised for the defects of the sex I" cried Hor-
ace, with devout sincerity. " Do you really leave me to de-
cide?"
" If you insist on it."
Horace considered for a moment the subject being the
law of marriage. " We may be married by license in a fort-
night," he said. " I fix this day fortnight."
She held up her hands in protest.
" Why not ? My lawyer is ready. There are no prepara-
tions to make. You said when you accepted me that it was
to be a private marriage."
Mercy was obliged to own that she had certainly said that.
" We might be married at once if the law would only let
us. This day fortnight ! Say Yes I" He drew her closer
to him. There was a pause. The mask of coquetry badly
worn from the first dropped from her. Her sad gray eyes
rested compassionately on his eager face. "Don't look so
serious !" he said. " Only one little word, Grace ! Only Yes."
She sighed, and said it. He kissed her passionately. It
was only by a resolute effort that she released herself.
" Leave me !" she said, faintly. " Pray leave me by myself !"
She was in earnest strangely in earnest. She was trem-
bling frofti head to foot. Horace rose to leave her. " I will
find Lady Janet," he said ; " I long to show the dear old lady
that I have recovered my spirits, and to tell her why." He
turned round at the library door. "You won't go away?
You will let me see you again when you are more composed ?"
" I will wait here," said Mercy.
Satisfied with that reply, he left the room.
Her bands dropped on her lap ; her head sank back wearily
74 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
on the cushions at the head of the sofa. There was a dazed
sensation in her : lier mind felt stunned. She wondered vacant-
ly whether she was awake or dreaming. Had she really said
the word which pledged her to marry Horace Holmcroft in a
fortnight ? A fortnight ! Something might happen in that
time to prevent it : she might find her way in a fortnight out
of the terrible position in which she stood. Any way, come
what might of it, she had chosen the preferable alternative
to a private interview with Julian Gray. She raised herself
from her recumbent position with a start, as the idea of the
interview dismissed for the last few minutes ^possessed it-
self again of her mind. Her excited imagination figured Ju-
lian Gray as present in the room at that moment, speaking to
her as Horace had proposed. She saw him seated close at
her side this man who had shaken her to the soul when he
was in the pulpit, and when she was listening to him (unseen)
at the other end of the chapel she saw him close by her,
looking her searchingly in the face; seeing her shameful se*
cret in her eyes; hearing it in her voice; feeling it in her
trembling hands ; forcing it out of her word by word, till she
fell prostrate at his feet with the confession of the fraud.
Her head dropped again on the cushions ; she hid her face in
horror of the scene which her excited fancy had conjured up.
Even now, when she had made that dreaded interview need-
less, could she feel sure (meeting him only on the most dis-
tant terms) of not betraying herself? She could not feel sure.
Something in her shuddered and shrank at the bare idea of
finding herself in the same room with him. She felt it, she
knew it: her guilty conscience owned and feared its master
in Julian Gray !
The minutes passed. The violence of her agitation began
to tell physically on her weakened frame.
She found herself crying silently without knowing why.
A weight was on her head, a weariness was in all her limbs.
She sank lower on the cushions her eyes closed ^the monot-
THE NEW MAGDALEK. 15
onous ticking of the clock on the mantel-piece grew drowsily
fainter and fainter on her ear. Little by little she dropped
into slumber slumber so light that she started when a mor-
sel of coal fell into the grate, or when the birds chirped and
twittered in their aviary in the winter-garden.
Lady Janet and Horace came in. She was faintly con-
scious of persons in the room. After an interval she opened
her eyes, and half rose to speak to them. The room was
empty again. They had stolen out softly, and left her to re-
pose. Her eyes closed once more. She dropped back into
slumber, and from slumber, in the favoring warmth and quiet
of the place, into deep and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER Vm.
THE MAN APPEABS.
Afteb an interval of rest Mercy was aroused by the shut-
ting of a glass door at the far end of the conservatory. This
door, leading into the garden, was used only by the inmates
of the house, or by old friends privileged to enter the recep-
tion-rooms by that way. Assuming that either Horace or
Lady Janet was returning to the dining-room, Mercy raised
herself a little on the sofa and listened.
The voice of one of the men-servants caught her ear. It
was answered by another voice, which instantly set her trem-
bling in eveiy limb.
She started up, and listened again in speechless terror.
Yes ! there was no mistaking it. The voice that was answer-
ing the servant was the unforgotten voice which she had
heard at the Refuge. The visitor who had come in by the
glass door was ^Julian Gray !
His rapid footsteps advanced nearer and nearer to the din-
iDg-roonL She recovered herself suflSciently to hurry to the
libraiy door. Her hand shook so that she failed at first to
76 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
open it. She had jnst succeeded when she heard him again
speaking to her.
"Pray don't run away! I am nothing very formidable.
Only Lady Janet's nephew Julian Gray."
She turned slowly, spell-bound by his voice, and confronted
him in silence.
Ho was standing, hat in hand, at the entrance to the con-
servatory, dressed in black, and wearing a white cravat, but
with a studious avoidance of any thing specially clerical in
the make and form of his clothes. Young as he was, there
were marks of care already on his face, and the hair was pre-
maturely thin and scanty over his forehead. His slight act-
ive figure was of no more than the middle height. His com-
plexion was pale. Tlie lower part of his face, without beard
or whiskers, was in no way remarkable. An average observer
would have passed him by without notice but for his eyes.
These alone made a marked man of him. The unusual size
of the orbits in which they were set was enough of itself to
attract attention ; it gave a grandeur to his head, which the
head, broad and firm as it was, did not possess. As to the
eyes themselves, the soft lustrous brightness of them defied
analysis. No two people could agree about their color; di-
vided opinion declaring alternately that they were dark gi'ay
or black. Painters had tried to reproduce them, and had
given up the effort, in despair of seizing any one expression
in the bewildering variety of expressions which they pre-
sented to view. They were eyes that could charm at one mo-
ment and terrify at another ; eyes that could set people laugh-
ing or crying almost at will. In action and in repose they
were irresistible alike. When they first descried Mercy run-
ning to the door, they brightened gayly with the merriment
of a child. When she turned and faced him, they changed
instantly, softening and glowing as they mutely owned the
interest and the admiration which the first sight of her had
roused in him. His tone and manner altered at the same
THE NEW MAGDALEN. "^7
time. He addressed her with the deepest respect when he
spoke his next words.
" Let me entreat you to favor me by resuming your seat,"
he said. "And let me ask your pardon if I have thoughtless-
ly intruded on you."
He paused, waiting for her reply before he advanced into
the room. Still spell-bound by his voice, she recovered self-
control enough to bow to him and to resume her place on the
sofa. It was impossible to leave him now. After looking at
her for a moment, he entered the room without speaking to
her again. She was beginning to perplex as well as to in-
terest him. " No common sorrow," he thought, " has set its
mark on that woman's face ; no common heart beats in that
woman's breast. Who can she be ?"
Mercy rallied her courage, and forced herself to speak to
him.
" Lady Janet is in the library, I believe," she said, timidly.
Shall I tell her you are here ?"
"Don't disturb Lady Janet, and don't disturb yourself."
With that answer he approached the luncheon-table, delicate-
ly giving her time to feel more at her case. He took up
what Horace had left of the bottle of claret, and poured it
into a glass. " My aunt's claret shall represent my. aunt for
the present," he said, smiling, as he turned toward her once
more. " I have had a long walk, and I may venture to help
myself in this house without invitation. Is it useless to offer
you any thing?"
Mercy made the necessary reply. She was beginning al-
ready, after her remarkable experience of him, to wonder at
his easy manners and his light way of talking.
He emptied his glass with the air of a man who thoroughly
imderstood and enjoyed good wine. "My aunt's claret is
worthy of my aunt," he said, with comic gravity, as he set
down the glass. " Both are the genuine products of Nature."
He seated himself at the table, and looked critically at the
78 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
diEcrent dishes left on it. One dish especially attracted his
attention. "What is this?" he went on. "A French pie!
It seems grossly unfair to taste French wine, and to pass over
French pie without notice." He took up a knife and fork,
and enjoyed the pie as critically as he had enjoyed the wine.
" Worthy of the Great Nation I" he exclaimed, with enthu-
siasm. " Vive la France /"
Mercy listened and looked, in inexpressible astonishment
He was utterly unlike the picture which her fancy bad drawn
of him in every-day life. Take off his white cravat^ and no-
body would have discovered that this famous preacher was a
clergyman !
He helped himself to another plateful of the pie, and spoke
more directly to Mercy, alternately eating and talking as com-
posedly and pleasantly as if they had known each other for
years.
"I came here by way of Kensington Gardens," ho said.
" For some time past I have been living in a flat, ugly, barren,
agricultural district. You can't think how pleasant I found
the picture presented by the Gardens, as a contrast. The la-
dies in their rich winter dresses, the smart nursery maids, the
lovely children, the ever-moving crowd skating on the ice of
the Round Pond ; it was all so exhilarating after what I have
been used to, that I actually caught myself whistling as I
walked through the brilliant scene ! (In my time boys used
always to whistle when they were in good spirits, and I have
not got over the habit yet.) Who do you think I met when
I was in full song ?"
As well as her amazement would let her, Mercy excused
herself from guessing. She had never in all her life before
spoken to any living being so confusedly and so unintelligent-
ly as she now spoke to Julian Gray !
He went on more gayly than ever, without appearing to
notice the effect that he had produced on her.
" Whom did I meet," he repeated, " when I was in full
THE I7EW MAGDALEN. 79
song? My bishop! If I had been whistling a sacred melo-
dy, his lordship might perhaps have excused, my vulgarity
out of consideration for my music. Unfortunately, the com-
position I was executing at the moment (I am one of the
loudest of living whistlers) was by Verdi ^La Donna e Mo-
bile ' ^familiar, no doubt, to his lordship on the street organs.
He recognized the tune, poor man, and when I took off my hat
to him ho looked the other way. Strange, in a world that is
bursting with sin and sorrow, to treat such a trifle seriously
as a cheerful clergyman whistling a tune !" He pushed away
his plate as be said the last words, and went on simply and
earnestly in an altered tone. " I have never been able," he
said, "to see why wo should assert ourselves among other
men as belonging to a particular caste, and as being forbid-
den, in any harmless thing, to do as other people do. The
disciples of old set us no such example ; they were wiser and
better than we are. I venture to say that one of the worst
obstacles in the way of our doing good among our fellow-
creatures is raised by the mere assumption of the clerical
manner and the clerical voice. For my part, I set up no
claim to be more sacred and more reverend than any other
Christian man who does what good he can." He glanced
brightly at Mercy, looking at her in helpless perplexity. The
spirit of fun took possession of him again. "Are you a Rad-
ical ?" he asked, with a humorous twinkle in his large lustrous
eyes. " I am 1"
Mercy tried hard to understand him, and tried in vain.
Could this be the preacher whose words had charmed, puri-
fied, ennobled her ? Was this the man whose sermon had
drawn tears from women about her whom she knew to be
shameless and hardened in cnme ? Yes I The eyes that
now rested on her humorously were the beautiful eyes which
had once looked into her soul. The voice that had just ad-
dressed a jesting question to her was the deep and mellow
voice which had once thrilled her to the heart. In the pulpit
4
80 THE NBW MAGDALEN.
Le was an angel of mercy ; out of the pulpit he was a boy let
loose from school.
" Don't ht me startle you," he said, good-naturedly, notic-
ing her confusion. " Public opinion has called me by harder
names than the name of * Radical.' I have been spending my
time lately as I told you just now in an agricultural dis-
trict. My business there was to perform the duty for the
rector of the place, who wanted a holiday. How do you
think the experiment has ended ? The Squire of the parish
calls me a Communist ; the farmers denounce me as an Incen-
diary ; my friend the rector has been recalled in a huny, and
I have now the honor of speaking to you in the character of
a banished man who has made a respectable neighborhood
too hot to hold him."
With that frank avowal he left the luncheon-table, and took
a chair near Mercy.
" You will naturally be anxious," he went on, ." to know
what my offense was. Do you understand Political Economy
and the Laws of Supply and Demand ?"
Mercy owned that she did not understand them.
" No more do I in a Christian country," he said. " That
was my offense. You shall hear my confession (just as my
aunt will hear it) in two words." He paused for a little
while ; his variable manner changed again. Mercy, shyly
looking at him, saw a new expression in his eyes an expres-
sion which recalled her first remembrance of him as nothing
had recalled it yet. " I had no idea," he resumed, " of what
the life of a farm-laborer really was, in some parts of En-
gland, until I undertook the rector's duties. Never before
had I seen such dire wretchedness as I saw in the cottages.
Never before had I met with such noble patience under suf-
fering as I found among the people. The martyrs of old
could endure, and die. I asked myself if they could endure,
and UvCy like the martyrs whom I saw round me ? live, week
after week, month after month, year after year, on the brink
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 81
of starvation ; live, and see their pining children gi'owing up
round them, to work and want in their turn ; live, with the
poor man's parish-prison to look to as the end, when hunger
and labor have done their worst ! Was God's beautiful earth
made to hold such misery as this ? I can hardly think of it,
I can hardly speak of it, even now, with dry eyes !"
His head sank on his breast. He waited mastering his
emotion before he spoke again. Now, at last, she knew him
once more. Now he was the man, indeed, whom she had ex-
pected to see. Unconsciously she sat listening, with her eyes
fixed on his face, with her heart hanging on his words, in the
very attitude of the by-gone day when she had heard him for
the first time !
" I did all I could to plead for the helpless ones," he re-
sumed. " I went round among the holders of the land to say
a word for the tillers of the land. * These patient people
don't want much ' (I said) ; * in the name of Christ, give them
enough to live on !' Political Economy shrieked at the hor-
rid proposal; the Laws of Supply and Demand veiled their
majestic faces in dismay. Starvation wages were the right
wages, I was told. And why ? Because the laborer was
obliged to accept them ! I determined, so far as one man
could do it, that the laborer should 7iot be obliged to accept
them. I collected my own resources ^I wrote to my friends
and I removed some of the poor fellows to parts of En-
gland where their work was better paid. Such was the con-
duct which made the neighborhood too hot to hold me. So
let it be ! I mean to go on. I am known in London ; I can
raise subscriptions. The vile Laws of Supply and Demand
shall find labor scarce in that agricultural district ; and piti-
less Political Economy shall spend a few extra shillings on
the poor, as certainly as I am that Radical, Communist, and
Incendiary Julian Gray !"
He rose making a little gesture of apology for the warmth
with which ho had spoken an^ took a turn in the room.
82 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Fired by hia enthusiasm, Mercy followed him. Her purse
was in her hand, when he turned and faced her.
" Pray let me offer my little tribute such as it is !" she
said, eagerly.
A momentary flush spread over his pale cheeks as he looked
at the beautiful compassionate face pleading with him.
" No ! no !" he said, smiling ; " though I am a parson, I
don't caiTy the begging-box everywhere." Mercy attempted
to press the purse on him. The quaint humor began to twin-
kle again in his eyes as he abruptly drew back from it.
" Don't tempt me !" he said. " The frailest of all human
creatures is a clergyman tempted by a subscription." Mercy
persisted, and conquered ; she made him prove the truth of
his own profound observation of clerical human nature by tak-
ing a piece of money from the purse. " If I must take it
I must I" he remarked. " Thank you for setting the good
example ! thank you for giving the timely help I What name
shall I put down on ray list ?"
Mercy's eyes looked confusedly away from him. "No
name," she said, in a low voice. " My subscription' is anony-
mous."
As she replied, the library door opened. To her infinite
relief to Julian's secret disappointment Lady Janet Roy
and Horace Holmcroft entered the room together.
" Julian !" exclaimed Lady Janet, holding up her hands in
astonishment.
He kissed his aunt on the cheek. " Your ladyship is look-
ing charmingly." He gave his hand to Horace. Horace
took it, and passed on to Mercy. They walked away togeth-
er slowly to the other end of the room. Julian seized on the
chance which left him free to speak privately to his aunt.
"I came in through the conservatory," he said. "And I
found that young lady in the room. Who is she ?"
"Are you very much interested in her ?" asked Lady Jiinctj
in her gravely ironical way.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 83
Julian answered in one expressive word. "Indescriba-
bly !"
Lady Janet called to Mercy to join her.
" My dear," she said, " let me formally present my nephew
to you. Julian, this is Miss Grace Roseberry ^" She sud-
denly checked herself. The instant she pronounced the name,
Julian started as if it was a surprise to him. " What is it ?"
she asked, sharply.
" Nothing," he answered, bowing to Mercy, with a marked
absence of his former ease of manner. She returned the
courtesy a little restrainedly on her side. She, too, had seen
him start when Lady Janet mentioned the name by which she
was known. The start meant something. What could it be ?
Why did he tura aside, after bowing to her, and address
himself to Horace, with an absent look in his face, as if his
thoughts were far away from his words ? A complete change
had come over him ; and it dated from the moment when his
aunt had pronounced the name that was not her name the
name that she had stolen !
Lady Janet claimed Julian's attention, and left Horace free
to return to Mercy. " Your room is ready for you," she said.
" You will stay here, of course ?" Julian accepted the invi-
tation still with the air of a man whose mind was preoccu-
pied. Instead of looking at his aunt when he made his reply,
he looked round at Mercy with a troubled curiosity in his
face, very strange to see. Lady Janet tapped him impatient-
ly on the shoulder. "I expect people to look at me when
people speak to me," she said. " What are you staring at my
adopted daughter for ?"
"Your adopted daughter?" Julian repeated looking at his
aunt this time, and looking very earnestly.
" Certainly ! As Colonel Roseberry's daughter, she is con-
nected with me by marriage already. Did you think I had
picked up a foundling ?"
Julian's face cleared ; he looked relieved. " I had forgot-
84 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
ten the Colonel," ho answered. " Of course the young lady
is related to us, as you say."
'^ Charmed, I am sure, to have satisfied yon that Grace is
not an impostor," said Lady Janet, with satirical humility.
She took Julian's arm, and drew him out of hearing of Hor-
ace and Mercy. "About that letter of yours?" she proceetU
ed. " There is one line in it that rouses my curiosity. Who
is the mysterious * lady ' whom you wish to present to ine ?"
Julian started, and changed color.
" I can't tell you now,", he said, in a whisper.
"Why not?"
To Lady Janet's unutterable astonishment, instead of reply-
ing, Julian looked round at her adopted daughter once more.
" What has she got to do with it ?" asked the old lady, out
of all patience with him.
" It is impossible for me to tell you," he answered, gravely,
" while Miss Roseberry is in the room."
CHAPTER IX.
NEWS FROM MANNHEIM.
Lady Janet's curiosity was by this time thoroughly
aroused. Summoned to explain who the nameless lady men-
tioned in his letter could possibly be, Julian had looked at
her adopted daughter. Asked next to explain what her
adopted daughter had got to do with it, he had declared that
he could not answer while Miss Roseberry ^vas in the room.
What did he mean ? Lady Janet determined to find out.
" I hate all mysteries," she said to Julian. " And as for
secrets, I consider them to be one of the forms of ill-breeding.
People in our rank of life ought to be above whispering in
corners. If you must have your mystery, I can oflPer you a
corner in the library. Come with me."
Julian followed his aunt very reluctantly. Whatever the
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 85
mystery might be, he was plainly embaiTassed by being
called upon to reveal it at a moment's notice. Lady Jianet
settled herself in her chair, prepared to question and cross-
question her nephew, when an obstacle appeared at the other
end of the library, in the shape of a man-servant with a mes-
sage. One of Lady Janet's neighbors had called by appoint-
ment to take her to the meeting of a certain committee which
assembled that day. The servant announced that the neigh-
bor an elderly lady was then waiting in her carriage at
the door. ^
Lady Janet's ready invention set the obstacle aside with-
out a moment's delay. She directed the servant to show her
visitor into the drawing-room, and to say that she was un-
expectedly engaged, but that Miss Roseberry would see the
lady immediately. She then turned to Julian, and said, with
her most satirical emphasis of tone and manner, ^' Would it
be an additional convenience if Miss Rosebeny was not only
out of the room before you disclose your secret, but out of
the house ?"
Julian gravely answered, " It may possibly be quite as well
if Miss Roseberry is out of the house."
Lady Janet led the way back to the dining-room.
" My dear Grace," she said, " you looked flushed and fever-
ish when I saw you asleep on the sofa a little while since. It
will do you no harm to have a drive in the fresh air. Our
friend has called to take me to the committee meeting. I
have sent to tell her that I am engaged and I shall be much
obliged if yoU will go in my place."
Mercy looked a little alarmed. "Does your ladyship mean
the committee meeting of the Samaritan Convalescent Home ?
The members, as I understand it, are to decide to-day which
of the plans for the new building they are to adopt. I can
iiot surely presume to vote in your place ?"
" You can vote, my dear child, just as well as I can," re-
plied the old lady. "Architecture is one of the lot ^t\&*
86 THB NBW MA6DALBN.
You know nothing about it ; I know nothing about it ; tnc
architects themselves know nothing about it. One plan is no
doubt just as bad as the other. Vote, as I should vote, with
the majority. Or as poor dear Dr. Johnson said, * Shout
with the loudest mob.' Away with you and don't keep the
committee waiting."
Horace hastened to open the door for Mercy.
"How long shall you be away?" he whispered, confidential-
ly. " I had a thousand things to say to you, and they have
interrupted us."
" I shall be back in an hour."
" We shall have the room to ourselves by that time. Come
here when you return. You will find me waiting for you."
Mercy pressed his hand significantly and went out. Lady
Janet turned to Julian, who had thus far remained in the
background, still, to all appearance, as unwilling as ever to
enlighten his aunt.
"Well?" she said. "What is tying your tongue now?
Grace is out of the room ; why don't you begin ? Is Hor-
ace in the way ?"
" Not in the least. I am only a little uneasy "
" Uneasy about what ?"
" I am afraid you have put that charming creature to some
inconvenience in sending her away just at this time."
Horace looked up suddenly, with a flush on his face.
" When you say * that charming creature,' " he asked,
sharply, " I suppose you mean Miss Roseberry ?"
" Certainly," answered Julian. " Why not ?"
Lady Janet interposed. " Gently, Julian," she said. " Grace
has only been introduced to you hitherto in the character of
my adopted daughter "
"And it seems to be high time," Horace added, haughtily,
" that I should present her next in the character of my en-
gaged wife."
Julian looked at Horace as if he could hardly credit the
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 8i
evidence of his own ears. " Your wife !" he exclaimed, with
an irrepressible outburst of disappointment and surprise.
" Yes. My wife," returned Horace. " We are to be mar-
ried in a fortnight. May I ask," he added, with angry hu-
mility, " if you disapprove of the marriage ?"
Lady Janet interposed once more. " Nonsense, Horace,"
she said. "Julian congratulates you, of course."
Julian coldly and absently echoed the words. " Oh yes !
I congratulate you, of course."
Lady Janet returned to the main object of the inter-
view.
" Now we thoroughly understand one another," she said,
" let us speak of a lady who has dropped out of the conversa-
tion for the last minute or two. I mean, Julian, the mysteri-
ous lady of your letter. We are alone, as you desired. Lift
the veil, my reverend nephew, which hides her from mortal
eyes ! Blush, if you like and can. Is she the future Mrs.
Julian Gray?"
"She is a perfect stranger to me," Julian answered, quietly.
" A perfect stranger ! You wrote me word you were in-
terested in her."
" I am interested in her. And, what is more, you are in-
terested in her too."
Lady Janet's fingers drummed impatiently on the table.
" Have I not warned you, Julian, that I hate mysteries ? Will
you, or will you not, explain yourself ?"
Before it was possible to answer, Horace rose from his
chair. " Perhaps I am in the way ?" he said.
Julian signed to him to sit down again.
"I have already told Lady Janet that you are not in the
way," he answered. "I now tell you as Miss Roseberry's
future husband that you too have an interest in hearing
what I have to say."
Horace resumed his seat with an air of suspicious surprise.
Julian addressed himself to Lady Janet.
88 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" Toa have often heard me speak,'' he began, " of my old
friend and school-fellow, John Cressingham ?"
" Yes. The English consul at Mannheim ?"
"The same. When I returned from the country I found
among my other letters a long letter from the consul. I have
brought it with me, and I propose to read certain passages
from it, which tell a very strange story more plainly and more
credibly than I can tell it in my own words."
" Will it be very long ?" inquired Lady Janet, looking with
some alarm at the closely written sheets of paper which her
nephew spread open before him.
Horace followed with a question on his side.
"You are sure I am interested in it?" he asked. "The
consul at Mannheim is a total stranger to me."
"I answer for it," replied Julian, gravely, "neither my
aunt's patience nor yours, Horace, will be thrown away if you
will favor me by listening attentively to what I am about to
read."
With those words he began his first extract from the con-
sul's letter.
* * * ]y|y memory is a bad one for dates. But full three
months must have passed since information was sent to me of
an English patient, received at the hospital here, whose case
I, as English consul, might feel an interest in investigating.
" ' I went the same day to the hospital, and was taken to
the bedside.
" ' The patient was a woman young, and (when in health),
I should think, very pretty. When I first saw her she looked,
to my uninstructed eye, like a dead woman. I noticed that
her head had a bandage over it, and I asked what was the
nature of the injury that she had received. The answer in-
formed me that the poor creature had been present, nobody
knew why or wherefore, at a skirmish or night attack between
the Germans and the French, and that the injury to her head
had been inflicted by a fragment of a German shell.' "
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 89
Horace thus far leaning back carelessly in his chair sud-
denly raised himself and exclaimed, '^ Good heavens ! can this
be the woman I saw laid out for dead in the French cottage ?"
" It is impossible for me to say," replied Julian. " Listen
to the rest of it The consul's letter may answer your ques-
tion."
He went on with his reading :
" ' The wounded woman had been reported dead, and had
been left by the French in their retreat, at the time when the
German forces took possession of the enemy's position. She
was found on a bed in a cottage by the director of the Grer-
man ambulance ' "
" Ignatius Wetzel ?" cried Horace.
" Ignatius Wetzel," repeated Julian, looking at the letter.
" It is the same !" said Horace. " Lady Janet, we are real-
ly interested in this. You remember my telling you how I
first met with Grace ? And you have heard more about it
since, no doubt, from Grace herself ?"
" She has a horror of referring to that part of her journey
home," replied Lady Janet. " She mentioned her having been
stopped on the frontier, and her finding herself accidentally in
the company of another Englishwoman, a perfect stranger to
her. I naturally asked questions on my side, and was shock-
ed to hear that she had seen the woman killed by a German
shell almost close at her side. Neither she nor I have had
any relish for returning to the subject since. You were quite
right, Julian, to avoid speaking of it while she was in the
room. I understand it all now. Grace, I suppose, mentioned
my name to her fellow-traveler. The woman is, no doubt, in
want of assistance, and she applies to me through you. I will
help her; but she must not come here until I have prepared
Grace for seeing her again, a living woman. For the present
there is no reason why they should meet."
^'I am not sure about that," said Julian, in low tones, with-
oat looking up at his aunt.
90 THB NEW MAGDALBN.
" What do you mean ? Is the mystery not at an end yet ?^
" The mystery has not even begun yet. Let my friend the
consul proceed.**
Julian returned for the second time to his extract from the
letter :
'^ ^ After a careful examination of the supposed corpse, the
German surgeon arrived at the conclusion that a case of sus-
pended animation had (in the hurry of the French retreat)
been mistaken for a case of death. Feeling a professional
interest in the subject, he decided on putting his opinion to
the test. He operated on the patient with complete success.
After performing the operation he kept her for some days
under his own care, and then transferred her to the nearest
hospital ^the hospital at Mannheim. He was obliged to re-
turn to his duties as army surgeon, and he left his patient in
the condition in which I saw her, insensible on the bed.
Neither he nor the hospital authorities knew any thing what-
ever about the woman. No papers were found on her. All
the doctors could do, when I asked them for information with
a view to communicating with her friends, was to show me
her linen marked with her name. I left the hospital after
taking down the name in my pocket-book. It was "Mercy
Merrick." ' "
Lady Janet produced her pocket-book. " Let me take the
name down too," she said. " I never heard it before, and I
might otherwise forget it. Go on, Julian."
Julian advanced to his second extract from the consul's
letter :
" * Under these circumstances, I could only wait to hear
from the hospital when the patient was sufficiently recovered
to be able to speak to me. Some weeks passed without my
receiving any communication from the doctors. On calling
to make inquiries I was informed that fever had set in, and
that the poor creature's condition now alteinated between* ex-
haustion and delirium. In her delirious moments the name
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 91
of your aunt, Lady Janet Roy, frequently escaped her. Oth-
erwise her wanderings were for the most part quite unintelli-
gible to the people at her bedside. I thought once or twice
of writing to you, and of begging you to speak to Lady Janet.
But as the doctors informed me that the chances of life or
death were at this time almost equally balanced, I decided to
wait until time should determine whether it was necessaiy to
trouble you or not' "
*' You know best, Julian," said Lady Janet. " But I own I
don't quite see in what way I am interested in this part of
the stoiy."
"Just what I was going to say," added Horace. "It is
very sad, no doubt But what have we to do with it?"
** Let me read my third extract," Julian answered, " and
you will see."
He turned to the third extract, and read as follows :
** * At last I received a message from the hospital informing
me that Mercy Merrick was out of danger, and that she was
capable (though still very weak) of answering any questions
which I might think it desirable to put to her. On reaching
the hospital, I was requested, rather to my surprise, to pay
my first visit to the head physician in his private room. " I
think it right," said this gentleman, " to warn you, before you
see the patient, to be very careful how you speak to her, and
not to irritate her by showing any surprise or expressing any
doubts if she talks to you in an extravagant manner. We
differ in opinion about her here. Some of us (myself among
the number) doubt whether the recovery of her mind has ac-
companied the recovery of her bodily powers. Without pro-
nouncing her to be mad she is perfectly gentle and harm-
less we are nevertheless of opinion that she is suffering un-
der a species of insane delusion. Bear in mind the caution
which I have given you and now go and judge for your-
self." I obeyed, in some little perplexity and surprise. The
sufferer, when I approached her bed, looked sadly weak and
92 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
worn ; bat, so far as I could judge, seemed to be in full pos*
session of herself. Her tone and manner were unqnestiona
bly the tone and manner of a lady. After briefly introducing
myself, I assured her that I should be glad, both officially
and personally, if I conld be of any assistance to her. In say-
ing these trifling words I happened to address her by the
name I had seen marked on her clothes. The instant the
words " Miss Merrick " passed my lips a wild, vindictive ex-
pression appeared in her eyes. She exclaimed angrily, " Don't
call me by that hateful name ! It's not my name. All the
people here persecute me by calling me Mercy Men*ick. And
when I am angry with them they show me the clothes. Say
what I may, they persist in believing they are my clothes.
Don't you do the same, if you want to be friends with me."
Remembering what the physician had said to me, I made the
necessary excuses, and succeeded in soothing her. Without
reverting to the irritating topic of the name, I merely in-
quired what her plans were, and assured her that she might
command my services if she required them. "Why do you
want to know what my plans are ?" she asked, suspiciously.
I reminded her in reply that I held the position of English
consul, and that my object was, if possible, to be of some as-
sistance to her. "You can be of the greatest assistance to
me," she said, eagerly. " Find Mercy Merrick !" I saw the
vindictive look come back into her eyes, and an angry flush
rising on her white cheeks. Abstaining from showing any
surprise, I asked her who Mercy Merrick was. "A vile wom-
an, by her own confession," was the quick reply. " How am
I to find her ?" I inquired next. " Look for a woman in a
black dress, with the Red Geneva Cross on her shoulder;
she is a nurse in the French ambulance." " What has she
done ?" " I have lost my papers ; I have lost my own clothes ;
Mercy Merrick has taken them." " How do you know that
Mercy Merrick has taken them ?" " Nobody else could have
taken them that's how I know it. Do you believe me o*
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 93
not ?" She was beginning to excite herself again ; I assured
her that I woald at once send to make inquiries after Mer-
cy Merrick. She turned round contented on the pillow.
** There"*s a good man !" she said. " Come back and tell me
when you have caught her." Such was my first interview
with the English patient at the hospital at Mannheim. It is
needless to say that I doubted the existence of the absent
person described as a nurse. However, it was possible to make
inquiries by applying to the surgeon, Ignatius Wetzel, whose
whereabouts was known to his friends in Mannheim. I wrote
to him, and received his answer in due time. After the night
attack of the Germans had made them masters of the French
position, he had entered the cottage occupied by the French
ambulance. He had found the wounded Frenchmen left be-
hind, but had seen no such person in attendance on them as
the nurse in the black dress with the red cross on her shoul-
der. The only living woman in the place was a young En-
glish lady, in a gray traveling cloak, who had been stopped on
the frontier, and who was forwarded on her way home by the
war correspondent of an English journal.' "
" That was Grace," said Lady Janet.
"And I was the war correspondent," added Horace.
"A few words more," said Julian, "and you will under-
stand my object in claiming your attention."
He returned to the letter for the last time, and concluded
his extracts from it as follows :
" * Instead of attending at the hospital myself, I communi-
cated by letter the failure of my attempt to discover the
missing nurse. For some little time afterward I heard no
more of the sick woman, whom I shall still call Mercy Mer-
rick. It was only yesterday that I received another sum-
mons to visit the patient. She had by this time sufficiently
recovered to claim her discharge, and she had announced her
intention of returning forthwith to England. The head phy-
sician, feeling a sense of responsibility, had sent for me. It
94 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
was impossible to detain her on the ground that she was not
fit to be trusted by herself at large, in consequence of the dif-
ference of opinion among the doctors on the case. All that
could be done was to give me due notice, and to leave the
matter in my hands. On seeing her for the second time, I
found her sullen and reserved. She openly attributed my in-
ability to find the nurse to want of zeal for her interests on
my part. I had, on my side, no authority whatever to detain
her. I could only inquire whether she had money enough to
pay her traveling expenses. Her reply informed me that the
chaplain of the hospital had mentioned her forlorn situation
in the town, and that the English residents had subscribed a
small sum of money to enable her to return to her own coun-
try. Satisfied on this head, I asked next if she had friends to
go to in England. " I have one friend," she answered, " who
is a host in herself Lady Janet Roy." You may imagine
my surprise when I heard this. I found it quite useless to
make any further inquiries as to how she came to know your
aunt, whether your aunt expected her, and so on. My ques-
tions evidently offended her ; they were received in sulky si-
lence. Under these circumstances, well knowing that I can
trust implicitly to your humane sympathy for misfortune, I
have decided (after careful reflection) to insure the poor crea-
ture's safety when she arrives in London by giving her a let-
ter to you. You will hear what she says, and you will be
better able to discover than I am whether she really has any
claim on Lady Janet Roy. One last word of information,
which it may be necessary to add, and I shall close this inor-
dinately long letter. At my first interview with her I ab-
stained, as I have already told you, from irritating her by any
inquiries on the subject of her name. On this second occa-
sion, however, I decided on putting the question.' "
As he read those last words, Julian became aware of a sud-
den movement on the part of his aunt. Lady Janet had risen
softly from her chair and had passed behind him with the
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 95
purpose of reading the consul's letter for herself over her
nephew's shoulder. Julian detected the action just in time
to frustrate Lady Janet's intention by placing his hand over
the last two lines of the letter.
" What do you do that for ?" inquired his aunt, sharply.
" You are welcome, Lady Janet, to read the close of the let-
ter for yourself," Julian replied. " But before you do so I am
anxious to prepare you for a very great surprise. Compose
yourBelf, and let me read on slowly, with your eye on me,
until I uncover the last two words which close my friend's
letter."
He read the end of the letter, as he had proposed, in these
terms:
^'^I looked the woman straight in the face, and I said to
her, " You have denied that the name marked on the clothes
which you wore when you came here was your name. If
you are not Mercy Merrick, who are you ?" She answered,
instantly, ** My name is " ' "
Julian removed his hand from the page. Lady Janet look-
ed it the next two words, and started back with a loud cry
of flfltonishment, which brought Horace instantly to his feet.
*f Tell me, one of you I" he cried. " What name did she
giveP'
Julian told him.
^ Gbace Rosebebby."
CHAPTER X.
A COUNCIL OP THREE.
Fob a mbment Horace stood thunderstruck, looking in
blank astQnishment at Lady Janet. His first words, as soon
aS he had recovered himself, were addressed to Julian.
" Is this a joke ?" he asked, sternly. " If it is, I for one
don't see the humor of it."
96 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Julian pointed to the closely written pages of the consul's
letter. "A man writes in earnest," he said, " when he writes
at sach length as this. The woman seriously gave the name
of Grace Roseberry, and when she left Mannheim she travel-
ed to England for the express purpose of presenting herself
to Lady Janet Roy.'* He turned to his aunt. " Yon saw me
start," he went on, " when you first mentioned Miss Roseber-
ry's name in my hearing. Now you know why." He ad-
dressed himself once more to Horace. *' You heard me say
that you, as Miss Roseberry's future husband, had an inter-
est in being present at my interview with Lady Janet. Now
you know why."
" The woman is plainly mad," said Lady Janet. " But it
is certainly a startling form of madness when one first hears
of it. Of course we must keep the matter, for the present
at least, a secret from Grace."
" There can be no doubt," Horace agreed, " that Grace
must be kept in the dark, in her present state of health. The
servants had better be warned beforehand, in case of this ad-
venturess or madwoman, whichever she may be, attempting to
make her way into the house."
" It shall be done immediately," said Lady Janet. " What
surprises me, Julian (ring the bell, if you please), is that you
should describe yourself in your letter as feeling an interest '
in this person."
Julian answered without ringing the bell.
"I am more interested than ever," he said, "now I find
that Miss Roseberry herself is your guest at Mablethorpe
House."
" You were always perverse, Julian, as a child, in your lik-
ings and dislikings," Lady Janet rejoined. "Why don't
you ring the bell ?"
" For one good reason, my dear aunt. I don't wish to
liear you tell your servants to close the door on this friend-
less creature."
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 97
Lady Janet cast a look at her nephew which plainly ex-
pressed that she thought he had taken a liberty with her.
" You don't expect me to see the woman ?" she asked, in a
tone of cold surprise.
" I hope you will not refuse to see her," Julian answered,
quietly. " I was out when she called. I must hear what she
has to say and I should infinitely prefer hearing it in your
presence. When I got your reply to my letter, permitting
me to present her to you, I wrote to her immediately, appoint-
ing a meeting here."
Lady Janet lifted her bright black eyes in mute expostu-
lation to the carved Cupids and wreaths on the dining-room
ceiling.
" When am I to have the honor of the lady's visit ?" she
inquired, with ironical resignation.
" To-day," answered her nephew, with impenetrable patience.
"At what hour?"
Julian composedly consulted his watch. " She is ten min-
utes after her time," he said, and put his watch back in his
pocket again.
At the same moment the servant appeared, and advanced
to Julian, carrying a visiting-card on his little silver tray.
"A lady to see you, sir."
Julian took the card, and, bowing, handed it to his aunt.
" Here she is," he said, just as quietly as ever.
Lady Janet looked at the card, and tossed it indignant-
ly back to her nephew. " Miss Roseberry !" she exclaimed.
" Printed actually printed on her card ! Julian, even my
patience has its limits. I refuse to see her I"
The servant was still waiting not like a human being who
took an interest in the proceedings, but (as became a perfect-
ly bred footman) like an article of furniture artfully construct-
ed to come and go at the word of command. Julian gave
the word of command, addressing the admirably constructed
automaton by the name of "James."
98 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" Where is the lady now ?" he asked.
" In the breakfast-room, sir."
"Leave her there, if you please, and wait outside within
hearing of the bell."
The legs of the furniture-footman acted, and took him
noiselessly out of the room. Julian turned to his aunt.
"Forgive me," he said, "for venturing to give the man his
orders in your presence. I am very anxious that you should
not decide hastily. Surely we ought to hear what this lady
has to say ?"
Horace dissented widely from his friend's opinion. " It's
an insult to Grace," he broke out, warmly, " to hear what she
has to say I"
Lady Janet nodded her head in high approval. " I think
so too," said her ladyship, crossing her handsome old hands
resolutely on her lap.
Julian applied himself to answering Horace first.
" Pardon me," he said. " I have r.o intention of presuming
to reflect on Miss Roseberry, or of bringing her into the mat-
ter at all. ^The consul's letter," lie went on, speaking to his
aunt, " mentions, if you remember, tliat the medical authorities
of Mannheim were divided in opinion on their patient's case.
Some of them the physician-in-chief being among the num-
ber believe that the recovery of her mind has not accom-
panied the recovery of her body."
" In other words," Lady Janet remarked, " a madwoman is
in my house, and I am expected to receive her !"
"Don't let us exaggerate," said Julian, gently. "It can
serve no good interest, in this serious matter, to exaggerate
any thing. The consul assures us, on the authority of the
doctor, that she is perfectly gentle and harmless. If she is
really the victim of a mental delusion, the poor creature is
surely an object of compassion, and she ought to be placed
under proper care. Ask your own kind heart, my dear aunt,
if it would not be downright cruelty to turn this forlorn
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 99
woman adrift in the world without -making some inqairy
first."
Lady Janet's inbred sense of justice admitted not over-
willingly the reasonableness as well as the humanity of the
view expressed in those words. "There is some truth in
that, Julian," she said, shifting her position uneasily in her
chair, and looking at Horace. " Don't you think so too ?"
she added.
" I can't say I do," answered Horace, in the positive tone
of a man whose obstinacy is proof against every form of ap-
peal that can be addressed to him.
The patience of Julian was firm enough to be a match for
the obstinacy of Horace. "At any rate," he resumed, with
undiminished good temper, " we are all three equally inter-
ested in setting this matter at rest. I put it to you, Lady
Janet, if we are not favored, at this lucky moment, with the
very opportunity that we want ? Miss Roseberry is not only
out of the room, but out of the house. If we let this chance
slip, who can say what awkward accident may not happen in
the course of the next few days ?"
"Let the woman come in," cried Lady Janet, deciding
headlong, with her customary impatience of all delay. "At
once, Julian before Grace can come back. Will you ring
the bell this time ?"
This time Julian rang it. " May I give the man his or-
ders ?" he respectfully inquired of his aunt.
" Give him any thing you like, and have done with it I" re-
torted the irritable old lady, getting briskly on her feet, and
taking a turn in the room to compose herself.
The servant withdrew, with orders to show the visitor in.
Horace crossed the room at the same time apparently with
the intention of leaving it by the door at the opposite end.
" You are not going away ?" exclaimed Lady Janet.
" I see no use in my remaining here," replied Horace, not
very graciously.
100 THB NBW MAODALEK.
^^ In that case,^ retorted Lady Janet, ^ remain here because
I wish it."
" Certainly if you wish it. Only remember," he added,
more obstinately than ever, " that I differ entirely from Ju-
lian's view. In my opinion the woman has no claim on us."
A passing movement of irritation escaped Julian for the
first time. *' Don't be hard, Horace," he said, sharply. '^All
women have a claim on us."
They had unconsciously gathered together, in ihe heat of
the little debate, turning their backs on the library door. At
the last words of the reproof administered by Julian to Hor-
ace, their attention was recalled to passing events by the
slight noise produced by the opening and closing of the door.
With one accord the three turned and looked in the direction
from which the sounds had come.
CHAPTER XI.
THE DEAD ALIVE.
Just inside the door there appeared the figure of a small
woman dressed in plain and poor black garments. She si-
lently lifted her black net veil, and disclosed a dull, pale, worn,
weary face. The forehead was low and broad ; the eyes
were unusually far apart ; the lower features were remarka-
bly small and delicate. In health (as the consul at Mannheim
had remarked) this woman must have possessed, if not abso-
lute beauty, at least rare attractions peculiarly her own. As
it was now, suffering sullen, silent, self-contained suffering
had marred its beauty. Attention and even curiosity it might
still rouse. Admiration or interest it could excite no longer.
The small, thin, black figure stood immovably inside the
door. The dull, worn, white face looked silently at the three
persons in the room.
The three persons in the room, on their side, stood for a
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 101
moment without moving, and looked silently at the stranger
on the threshold. There was something, either in the woman
herself, or in the sudden and stealthy manner of her appear-
ance in the room, which froze, as if with the touch of an in-
visible cold hand, the sympathies of all three. Accustomed
to the world, habitually at their ease in every social emergen-
cy, they were now silenced for the first time in their lives by
the first serious sense of embarrassment which they had felt
since they were children in the presence of a stranger.
Had the appearance of the true Grace Roseberry aroused
iu their minds a suspicion of the woman who had stolen her
name, and taken her place in the house ?
Not so much as the shadow of a suspicion of Mercy was at
the bottom of the strange sense of uneasiness which had now
deprived them alike of their habitual courtesy and their ha-
bitual presence of mind. It was as practically impossible for
any one of the three to doubt the identity of the adopted
daughter of the house as it would be for you who read these
lines to doubt the identity of the nearest and dearest relative
you have in the world. Circumstances had fortified Mercy
behind the strongest of all natural rights the right of first
possession. Circumstances had armed her with the most ir-
resistible of all natural forces the force of previous associa-
tion and previous habit. Not by so much as a hair-breadth
was the position of the false Grace Roseberry shaken by the
first appearance of the true Grace Roseberry within the doors
of Mablethorpe House. Lady Janet felt suddenly repelled,
without knowing why. Julian and Horace felt suddenly re-
pelled, without knowing why. Askeo to describe their own
sensations at the moment, they would have shaken their heads
in despair, and would have answered in those words. The
vague presentiment of some misfortune to come had entered
the room with the entrance of the woman in black. But it
moved invisibly; and it spoke, as all presentiments speak, in
the TJnknown Tongue.
6*
102 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
A momeDt passed. The crackling of the fire and the tick*
ing of the clock were the only sounds audible in the room.
The voice of the visitor hard, clear, and quiet was the
first voice that broke the silence.
"Mr. Julian Gray?" she said, looking interrogatively from
one of the two gentlemen to the other.
Julian advanced a few steps, instantly recovering his self-
possession. " I am sorry I was not at home," he said, " when
you called with your letter from the consul. Pray take a
chair."
By way of setting the example. Lady Janet scatel herself
at some little distance, with Horace in attendance standing
near. She bowed to the stranger with studious politeness,
but without uttering a word, before she settled herself in her
chair. " I am obliged to listen to this person," thought the
old lady. " But I am not obliged to speak to her. That is
Julian's business not mine. Don't stand, Horace ! You
fidget me. Sit down." Armed beforehand in her policy of
silence, Lady Janet folded her handsome hands as usual, and
waited for the proceedings to begin, like a judge on the bench.
" Will you take a chair ?" Julian repeated, observing that
the visitor appeared neither to heed nor to hear his first words
of welcome to her.
At this second appeal she spoke to him. " Is that Lady
Janet Roy ?" she asked, with her eyes fixed on the mistress of
the house.
Julian answered, and drew back to watch the result.
The woman in the poor black garments changed her posi-
tion for the first time. She moved slowly across the room
to the place at which Lady Janet was sitting, and addressed
her respectfully with perfect self-possession of manner. Her
whole demeanor, from the moment when she had appeared at
the door, had expressed at once plainly and becomingly
confidence in the reception that awaited her.
"Almost the last words my father said to me on his death-
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 103
bed," she began, " were words, madam, which told me to ex-
pect protection and kindness from you."
It was not Lady Janet's business to speak. She listened
with the blandest attention. She waited with the most exas-
peratiug silence to hear more.
Grace Roseberry drew back a step not intimidated only
mortified and surprised. " Was my father wrong ?" she ask-
ed, with a simple dignity of tone and manner which forced
Lady Janet to abandon her policy of silence, in spite of herself.
" Who was your father ?" she asked, coldly.
Grace Roseberry answered the question in a tone of stern
snrprise.
"Has the servant not given you my card?" she said.
" Don't you know my name ?"
"Which of your names?" rejoined Lady Janet.
" I don't understand your ladyship."
" I will make myself understood. You asked me if I knew
your name. I ask you, in return, which name it is? The
name on your card is ' Miss Roseberry.' The name marked
on your clothes, when you were in the hospital, was ' Mercy
Merrick.' '
The self-possession which Grace had maintained from the
moment when she had entered the dining-room, seemed now,
for the first time, to be on the point of failing her. She turn-
ed, and looked appealingly at Julian, who had thus far kept
his place apart, listening attentively.
" Surely," she said, " your friend, the consul, has told you in
his letter about the mark on the clothes ?"
Something of the girlish hesitation and timidity which had
marked her demeanor at her interview with Mercy in the
French cottage re-appeared in her tone and manner as she
spoke those wordsi The changes mostly changes for the
worse ^wrought in her by the sufEering through which she
had passed since that time, were now (for the moment) ef-
faced. All that was left of the better and simpler side of her
104 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
character asserted itself in her brief appeal to Julian. She
had hitherto repelled him. He began to feel a certain com-
passionate interest in her now.
" The consul has informed me of what you said to him," he
answered, kindly. " But, if you will take my advice, I recom-
mend you to tell your story to Lady Janet in your own words.'*
Grace again addressed herself with submissive reluctance
to Lady Janet.
" The clothes your ladyship speaks of," she said, " were the
clothes of another woman. The rain was pouring when the
soldiers detained me on the frontier. I had been exposed for
hours to the weather I was wet to the skin. The clothes
marked * Mercy Merrick ' were the clothes lent to me by Mer-
cy Merrick herself while my own things were drying. I was
struck by the shell in those clothes. I was carried away in-
sensible in those clothes after the operation had been per-
formed on me."
Lady Janet listened to perfection and did no more. She
turned confidentially to Horace, and said to him, in her grace-
fully ironical way, " She is ready with her explanation."
Horace answered in the same tone, "A great deal too ready."
Grace looked from one of them to the other. A faint flush
of color showed itself in her face for the first time.
"Am I to understand," she asked, with proud composure,
"that you don't believe me?"
Lady Janet maintained her policy of silence. She waved
one hand courteously toward Julian, as if to say, "Address
your inquiries to the gentleman who introduces you." Julian,
noticing the gesture, and observing the rising color in Grace's
cheeks, interfered directly in the interests of peace.
"Lady Janet asked you a question just now," he said;
" Lady Janet inquired who your father was."
" My father was the late Colonel Roseberry."
Lady Janet made another confidential remark to Horace.
" Her assurance amazes me !" she exclaimed.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 105
Jaliau interposed before bis aunt could add a word more.
" Pray let us bear ber," be said, in a tone of entreaty wbicb
bad sometbing of tbe imperative in it tbis time. He turned
to Grace. " Have you any proof to produce," be added, in
bis gentler voice, " wbicb will satisfy us that you are Colonel
Roseberry's daughter ?"
Grace looked at bim indignantly. " Proof !" she repeated.
" Is my word not enough ?"
Julian kept bis temper perfectly. " Pardon me," be rejoin-
ed, " you forget that you and Lady Janet meet now for the
first time. Try to put yourself in my aunt's place. How
is she to know that you are tbe late Colonel Roseberry's
daughter ?"
Grace's bead sunk on ber breast; she dropped into the
nearest chair. The expression of ber face changed instantly
from anger to discouragement. "Ab," she exclaimed, bitter-
ly, " if I only bad the letters that have been stolen from me !"
" Letters," asked Julian, " introducing you to Lady Janet ?"
"Yes." She turned suddenly to Lady Janet. "Let me
tell you bow I lost them," she said, in tbe first tones of en-
treaty wbicb bad escaped ber yet.
Lady Janet hesitated. It was not in ber generous nature
to resist tbe appeal that bad just been made to ber. The
sympathies of Horace were far less easily reached. He light-
ly launched a new shaft of satire intended for the private
amusement of Lady Janet. "Another explanation !" be ex-
claimed, witb a look of comic resignation.
Julian overheard tbe words. His large lustrous eyes fixed
themselves on Horace witb a look of unmeasured contempt.
" Tbe least you can do," be said, sternly, " is not to irritate
her. It is so easy to irritate ber !" He addressed himself
again to Grace, endeavoring to help her through her diflSculty
in a new way. " Never mind explaining yourself for tbe mo-
ment," be said. " In tbe absence of your letters, bave you
any one in London who can speak to your identity ?"
106 THE NEW IIAGDALSN.
Grace shook her head sadly. ^I have no friends in Lon-
don,'' she answered.
It was impossible for Lady Janet who had never in her
life heard of any body without friends in London ^to pass
this over without notice. ^^ No friends in London !" she re-
peated, taming to Horace.
Horace shot another shaft of light satire. ^Of course
not !" he rejoined.
Grace saw them comparing notes. ^^My friends are in
Canada,'' she broke oat, impetuously. ^ Plenty of friends
who could speak for me, if I could only bring them here."
As a place of reference mentioned in the capital city of
England Canada, there is no denying it, is open to objection
on the ground of distance. Horace was ready with another
shot. " Far enough off, certainly," he said.
" Far enough off, as you say," Lady Janet agreed.
Once more Julian's inexhaustible kindness strove to obtain
a hearing for the stranger who had been confided to his care.
"A little patience, Lady Janet," he pleaded. "A little consid-
eration, Horace, for a friendless woman."
" Thank you, sir," said Grace. " It is very kind of you to
try and help me, but it is useless. They won't even listen
to me." She attempted to rise from her chair as she pro-
nounced the last words. Julian gently laid his hand on her
shoulder and obliged her to resume her scat.
"7" will listen to you," he said. "You referred me just
now to the consul's letter. The consul tells me you suspect-
ed some one of taking your papers and your clothes."
"I don't suspect," was the quick reply; "I am certain!
I tell you positively Mercy Merrick was the thief. She was
alone with me when I was struck down by the shell. She
was the only person who knew that I had letters of introduc-
tion about me. She confessed to my face that she had been
a bad woman she had been in a prison she had come out
of a refuge ^"
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 107
Julian stopped her there with one plain question, which
threw a doubt on the whole story.
" The consul tells me you asked him to search for Mercy
Merrick," he said. ^^Is it not true that he caused inquiries
to be made, and that no trace of any such person was to be
heard of?"
" The consul took no pains to find her," Grace answered,
angrily. " Ho was, like every body else, in a conspiracy to
neglect and misjudge me."
Lady Janet and Horace exchanged looks. This time it
was impossible for Julian to blame them. The farther the
stranger's narrative advanced, the less worthy of serious at-
tention he felt it to be. The longer she spoke, the more dis-
advantageously she challenged comparison with the absent
woman, whose name she so obstinately and so audaciously
persisted in assuming as her own.
" Granting all that you have said," Julian resumed, with a
last effort of patience, " what use could Mercy Merrick make
of your letters and your clothes ?"
" What use ?" repeated Grace, amazed at his not seeing
the position as she saw it. " My clothes were marked with
my name. One of my papers was a letter from my father,
introducing me to Lady Janet. A woman out of a refuge
would be quite capable of presenting herself here in my
place."
Spoken entirely at random, spoken without so much as a
fragment of evidence to support them, those last words still
had their effect. They cast a reflection on Lady Janet's
adopted daughter which was too outrageous to be borne.
Lady Janet rose instantly. " Give me your arm, Horace,"
she said, turning to leave the room. " I have heard enough."
Horace respectfully offered his arm. "Your ladyship is
quite right," he answered. " A more monstrous story never
was invented."
He spoke, in the warmth of his indignation, loud enough
108 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
for Grace to hear him. "What is there monstrous in it?"
she asked, advancing a step toward him, defiantly.
Julian checked her. lie too though he had only once
seen Mercy felt an angry sense of the insult offered to the
beautiful creature who had interested him at his first sight of
her. " Silence !" he said, speaking sternly to Grace for the
first time. " You are ofEending ^justly offending Lady Ja-
net. You are talking worse than absurdly ^you are talking
offensively when you speak of another woman presenting
herself here in your place."
Grace's blood was up. Stung by Julian's reproof, she turn-
ed on him a look which was almost a look of fury.
"Are you a clergyman? Are you an educated man?" she
asked. " Have you never read of cases of false personation,
in newspapers and books ? I blindly confided in Mercy Mer-
rick before I found out what her character really was. She
left the cottage I know it, from the surgeon who brought
me to life again firmly persuaded that the shell had killed
me. My papers and my clothes disappeared at the same time.
Is there nothing suspicious in these circumstances? There
were people at the Hospital who thought them highly sus-
picious people who warned me that I might find an impos-
tor in my place." She suddenly paused. The rustling sound
of a silk dress had caught her ear. Lady Janet was leaving
the room, with Horace, by way of the conservatory. With a
last desperate effort of resolution, Grace sprung forward and
placed herself in front of them.
" One word, Lady Janet, before you turn your back on me,"
she said, firmly. " One word, and I will be content. Has
Colonel Roseberry's letter found its way to this house or not ?
If it has, did a woman bring it to you ?"
Lady Janet looked as only a great lady can look, when a per-
son of inferior rank has presumed to fail in respect toward her.
" You are surely not aware," she said, with icy composure,
" that these questions are an insult to Me ?"
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 109
" And worse than an insult," Horace added, warmly, " to
Grace !"
The little resolute black figure (still barring the way to the
conservatory) was suddenly shaken from head to foot. The
woman's eyes traveled backward and forward between Lady
Janet and Horace with the light of a new suspicion in them.
"Grace!" she exclaimed. "What Grace? That's my
name. Lady Janet, you have got the letter ! The woman is
here !"
Lady Janet dropped Horace's arm, and retraced her steps
to the place at which her nephew was standing.
" Julian," she said. " You force me, for the first time in
my life, to remind you of the respect that is due to me in my
own house. Send that woman away."
Without waiting to be answered, she turned back again,
and once more took Horace's arm.
" Stand back, if you please," she said, quietly, to Grace.
Grace held her ground.
" The woman is here !" she repeated. " Confront me with
her and then send me away, if you like."
Julian advanced, and firmly took her by the arm. " You
forget what is due to Lady Janet," he said, drawing her aside.
" You forget what is due to yourself."
With a desperate effort, Grace broke away from him, and
stopped Lady Janet on the threshold of the conservatory
door.
" Justice !" she cried, shaking her clinched hand with hys-
terical frenzy in the air. "I claim my right to meet that
woman face to face ! Where is she ? Confront me with
her ! Confront me with her !"
While those wild words were pouring from her lips, the
nimbling of carriage wheels became audible on the drive in
front of the house. In the all-absorbing agitation of the mo-
ment, the sound of the wheels (followed by the opening of
the house door) passed unnoticed by the persons in the din-
110 THB NEW MAODALBN.
ing-room. Horace's voice was still raised in angry protest
against the insult offered to Lady Janet ; Lady Janet herself
(leaving him for the second time) was vehemently ringing
the bell to summon the servants ; Julian had once more taken
the infuriated woman by the arm, and was trying vainly to
compose her when the library door was opened quietly by a
young lady wearing a mantle and a bonnet. Mercy Merriek
(true to the appointment which she had made with Horace)
entered the room.
The first eyes that discovered her presence on the scene
were the eyes of Grace Roseberry. Starting violently in Ju-
lian's grasp, she pointed toward the library door. "Ah!"
she cried, with a shriek of vindictive delight. "There
she is I"
Mercy turned as the sound of the scream rang through the
room, and met resting on her in savage triumph the living
gaze of the woman whose identity she had stolen, whose body
she had left laid out for dead. On the instant of that terri-
ble discovery with her eyes fixed helplessly on the fierce
eyes that had found her she dropped senseless on the_ floor.
CHAPTER XII.
EXIT JULIAN.
Julian happened to be standing nearest to Mercy. He
was the first at her side when she fell.
In the cry of alarm which burst from him, as he raised her
for a moment in his arms, in the expression of his eyes when
he looked at her death-like face, there escaped the plain too
plain confession of the interest which he felt in her, of the
admiration which she had aroused in him. Horace detected
it. There was the quick suspicion of jealousy in the move-
ment by which he joined Julian ; there was the ready resent-
ment of jealousy in the tone in which he pronounced the
THB NEW MAGDALEN. Ill
words, " Leave her to me." Julian resigned her in silence.
A faint flash appeared on his pale face as he drew back while
Horace carried her to the sofa. His eyes sunk to the ground ;
he seemed to be meditating self-reproachfully on the tone in
which his friend had spoken to him. After having been the
first to take an active part in meeting the calamity that had
happened, he was now, to all appearance, iu sensible to eveiy
thing that was passing in the room.
A touch on his shoulder roused him.
He turned and looked round. The woman who had done
the mischief }he stranger in the poor black garments ^was
standing behind him. She pointed to the prostrate figure on
the sofa, with a merciless smile.
" You wanted a proof just now," she said. " There it is !"
Horace heard her. He suddenly left the sofa and joined
Julian. His face, naturally ruddy, was pale with suppressed
fury.
" Take that wretch away !" he said. " Instantly ! or I
won't answer for what I may do."
Those words recalled Julian to himself. He looked round
the room. Lady Janet and the housekeeper were together,
in attendance on the swooning woman. The startled servants
were congregated in the library door-way. One of them of-
fered to run to the nearest doctor ; another asked if he should
feteh the police. Julian silenced them by a gesture, and
turned to Horace. "Compose yourself," he said. "Leave
me to remove her quietly from the house." He took Grace
by the hand as he spoke. She hesitated, and tried to release
herself. Julian pointed to the group at the sofa, and to tlie
servants looking on. "You have made an enemy of every
one in this room," he said, " and you have not a friend in Lon-
don. Do you wish to make an enemy of mef^^ Her head
drooped; she made no reply; she waited, dumbly obedient
to the firmer will than her own. Julian ordered the servants
crowding together in the door-way to withdraw. He followed
112 TH NW MAGDALBN.
them into the library, leading Grace after him by the hand.
Before closing the door he paused, and looked back into the
dining-room.
" Is she recovering ?" he asked, after a moment's hesitation.
Lady Janet's voice answered him. " Not yet."
" Shall I send for the nearest doctor ?"
Horace interposed. He declined to let Julian associate
himself, even in that indirect manner, with Mercy's recovery.
" If the doctor is wanted," he said, " I will go for him my-
self."
Julian closed the library door. He absently released Grace ;
he mechanically pointed to a chair. She sat down in silent
surprise, following him with her eyes as he walked slowly to
and fro in the room.
For the moment his mind was far away from her, and fi*om
all that had happened since her appearance in the house. It
was impossible that a man of his fineness of perception could
mistake the meaning of Horace's conduct toward him. He
was questioning his own heart, on the subject of Mercy, stoni-
ly and unreservedly as it was his habit to do. "After only
once seeing her," he thought, "has she produced such an im-
pression on me that Horace can discover it, before I have even
suspected it myself ? Can the time have come already when
I owe it to my friend to see her no more ?" He stopped irri-
tably in his walk. As a man devoted to a serious calling in
life, there was something that wounded his self-respect in the
bare suspicion that he could be guilty of the purely sentiment-
al extravagance called " love at first sight."
He had paused exactly opposite to the chair in which Grace
was seated. Weary of the silence, she seized the opportunity
of speaking to him.
" I have come here with you as you wished," she said. "Are
you going to help me ? Am I to count on you as my friend ?"
He looked at her vacantly. It cost him an effort before
he could give her the attention that she had claimed.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 113
"You have been hard on me," Grace went on. "But you
showed me some kindness at first ; you tried to make them
give me a fair hearing. I ask you, as a just man, do you
doubt now that the woman on the sofa in the next room is an
impostor who has taken my place ? Can there be any plainer
confession that she is Mercy Merrick than the confession she
has made? You saw it; they saw it. She fainted at the
sight of me."
Julian crossed the room still without answering her and
rang the bell. When the servant appeared, he told the man
to fetch a cab.
Grace rose from her chair. "What is the cab for?" she
asked, sharply.
"For you and for me," Julian replied. "I am going to
take you back to your lodgings."
" I refuse to go. My place is in this house. Neither Lady
Janet nor you can get over the plain facts. All I asked was
to be confronted with her. And what did she do when she
came into the room ? She fainted at the sight of me."
Reiterating her one triumphant assertion, she fixed her eyes
on Julian with a look which said plainly. Answer that if you
can. In mercy to her^ Julian answered it on the spot.
" So far as I understand," he said, " you appear to take it
for granted that no innocent woman would have fainted on
first seeing you. I have something to tell you which will
alter your opinion. On her arrival in England this lady in-
formed my aunt that she had met with you accidentally on
the French frontier, and that she had seen you (so far as she
knew) struck dead at her side by a shell Remember that,
and recall what happened just now. Without a word to warn
her of your restoration to life, she finds herself suddenly face
to face with you, a living woman and this at a time when it
is easy for any one who looks at her to see that she is in deli-
cate health. What is there wonderful, what is there unac-
countable, in her fainting under such circumstances as these ?"
114 THE NBW MAGDALSV.
The question was plainly put. Where was the answer to it?
There was no answer to it. Mercy^s wisely candid state-
ment of the manner in which she had first met with Grace,
and of the accident which had followed, had served Mercy^s
purpose bat too well It was simply impossible for persons
acquainted with that statement to attach a guilty meaning to
the swoon. The false Grace Roseberry was still as far beyond
the reach of suspicion as ever, and the true Grace was quick
enough to see it. She sunk into the chair from which she had
risen ; her hands fell in hopeless despair on her lap.
"Every thing is against me," she said. "The truth itself
turns liar, and takes her side." She paused and rallied her
sinking courage. " No !" she cried, resolutely, " I won't sub-
mit to have my name and my place taken from me by a vile
adventuress ! Say what you like, I insist on exposing her; I
won't leave the house !"
The servant entered the room, and announced that the cab
was at the door.
Grace turned to Julian with a defiant wave of her hand.
" Don't let me detain you," she said. " I see I have neither
advice nor help to expect from Mr. Julian Gray."
Julian beckoned to the servant to follow him into a comer
of the room.
" Do you know if the doctor has been sent for ?" he asked.
" I believe not, sir. It is said in the servants' hall that the
doctor is not wanted."
Julian was too anxious to be satisfied with a report from
the servants' hall. He hastily wrote on a slip of paper : " Has
she recovered ?" and gave the note to the man, with directions
to take it to Lady Janet.
"Did you hear what I said?" Grace inquired, while the
messenger was absent in the dining-room.
" I will answer you directly," said Julian.
The servant appeared again as he spoke, with some lines
in pencil written by Lady Janet on the back of JuliaU's nota
^ THB NEW MAGDALEN. 115
" Thank God, we have revived her. In a few minutes we
hope to be able to take her to her rooqj."
The nearest way to Mercy's room was through the library.
Grace's immediate removal had now become a necessity which
was not to be trifled with. Julian addressed himself to meet
ing the difficulty thcj^^instant he was left alone with Grace.
" Listen to me," he 'said. " The cab is waiting, and I have
my last words to say to you. You are now (thanks to the
consul's recommendation) in my care. Decide at once wheth-
er you will remain under my charge, or whether you will
transfer yourself to the charge of the police."
Grace started. " What do you mean ?" she asked, angrily.
" If you wish to remain under my charge," Julian proceed-
ed, " you will accompany me at once to the cab. In that case
I will undertake to give you an opportunity of telling your
story to my own lawyer. He will be a fitter person to advise
you than I am. Nothing will induce me to believe that the lady
whom you have accused has committed, or is capable of com-
mitting, such a fraud as you charge her with. You will hear
what the lawyer thinks, if you come with me. If you refuse,
I shall have no choice but to send into the next room, and
tell them that you are still here. The result will be that you
will find yourself in charge of the police. Take which course
you like : I will give you a minute to decide in. And remem-
ber this if I appear to express myself harshly, it is your con-
duct which forces me to speak out. I mean kindly toward
you ; I am advising you honestly for your good."
He took out his watch to count the minute.
Grace stole one furtive glance at his steady, resolute face.
She was perfectly unmoved by the manly consideration for her
which Julian's last words had expressed. All she understood
was that he was not a man to be trifled with. Future oppor-
tunities would offer themselves of returning secretly to the
house. She determined to yield and deceive him.
'^ I am ready to go," she said, rising with dogged submissioiu
116 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
'^ Your tarn now,'' she mattered to herself, as she turned to the
looking-glass to arrange her shawl. " My tara will come."
Julian advanced toward her, as if to ofiEer her his arm, and
checked himself. Firmly persuaded as he was that her mind
was deranged readily as he admitted that she claimed, in
virtue of her affliction, every indulgence that he could extend
to her there was something repellent to him at that moment
in the bare idea of touching her. The image of the beautiful
creature who was the object of her monstrous accusation
the image of Mercy as she lay helpless for a moment in his
arms was vivid in his mind while he opened the door that
led into the hall, and drew back to let Grace pass out before
him. He left the servant to help her into the cab. The man
respectfully addressed him as he took his seat opposite to
Grace.
" I am ordered to say that your room is ready, sir, and that
her ladyship expects you to dinner."
Absorbed in the events which had followed his aunt's invi-
tation, Julian had forgotten his engagement to stay at Mable-
thorpe House. Could he return, knowing his own heart as
he now knew it ? Could he honorably remain, perhaps for
weeks together, in Mercy's society, conscious as he now was
of the impression which she had produced on him? No.
The one honorable course that he could take was to find an
excuse for withdrawing from his engagement. " Beg her lady-
ship not to wait dinner for me," he said. " I will write and
make my apologies." The cab drove off. The wondering
servant waited on the door-step, looking after it. " I wouldn't
stand in Mr. Julian's shoes for something," he thought, with
his mind running on the difficulties of the young clergyman's
position. "There she is along with him in the cab. What
is he going to do with her after that ?"
Julian himself, if it had been put to him at the moment,
could not have answered the question.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 117
Lady Janet's anxiety was far from being relieved when
Mercy bad been restored to her senses and coiliducted to her
own room.
Mercy's mind remained in a condition of unreasoning alarm,
which it was impossible to remove. Over and over again she
was told that the woman who had terrified her had left the
house, and would never be permitted to enter it more. Over
and over again she was assured that the stranger's frantic as-
sertions were regarded by every body about her as unworthy
of a moment's serious attention. She persisted in doubting
whether they were telling her the truth. A shocking dis-
trust of her friends seemed to possess her. She shrunk when
Lady Janet approached the bedside. She shuddered when
Lady Janet kissed her. She flatly refused to let Horace
see her. She asked the strangest questions about Julian
Gray, and shook her head suspiciously when they told her
that he was absent from the house. At intervals she hid
her face in the bedclothes and murmured to herself piteous-
ly, "Oh, what shaU I do ? What shaU I do?" At other
times her one petition was to be left alone. " I want no-
body in my room" that was her sullen cry "nobody in
my room."
The evening advanced, and brought with it no change for
the better. Lady Janet, by the advice of Horace, sent for
her own medical adviser.
The doctor shook his head. The symptoms, he said, indi-
cated a serious shock to the nervous system. He wrote a
sedative prescription ; and he gave (with a happy choice of
language) some sound and safe advice. It amounted briefly
to this: "Take her away, and try the sea-side." Lady Ja-
net's customary energy acted on the advice, without a mo-
ment's needless delay. She gave the necessary directions for
packing the trunks overnight, and decided on leaving Mable-
thorpe House with Mercy the next morning.
Shortly after the doctor had taken his departure a letter
6
118 THB NEW MAGDALBN.
from Julian, addressed to Lady Janet, was delivered by pri-
vate messenger.
Beginning with the necessary apologies for the writer's ab*
sence, the letter proceeded in these terms :
*^ Before I permitted my companion to see the lawyer, I
felt the necessity of consulting him as to my present position
toward her first.
" I told him what I think it only right to repeat to you
that I do not feel justified in acting on my own opinion that
her mind is deranged. In the case of this friendless woman
I want medical authority, and, more even than that, I want
some positive proof, to satisfy my conscience as well as to
confirm my view.
^^ Finding me obstinate on this point, the lawyer undertook
to consult a physician accustomed to the treatment of the in-
sane, on my behalf.
^' After sending a message and receiving the answer, he
said, ' Bring the lady here in half an hour ; she shall tell her
story to the doctor instead of telling it to me.' The proposal
rather staggered me ; I asked how it was possible to induce
her to do that. He laughed, and answered, * I shall present
the doctor as my senior partner; my senior partner will be
the very man to advise her.' You know that I hate all de-
ception, even where the end in view appears to justify it.
On this occasion, however, there was no other alternative
than to let the lawyer take his own course, or to run the risk
of a delay which might be followed by serious results.
" I waited in a room by myself (feeling very uneasy, I own)
until the doctor joined me, after the interview was over.
" His opinion is, briefly, this :
"After careful examination of the unfortunate creature, he
thinks that there are unmistakably symptoms of mental aber-
ration. But how far the mischief has gone, and whether her
case isi or is not, sufiicient^ grave to render actual restraint
.iifS NEW HAGDALE]^. 119
necessary, he can not positively say, in our present state of
ignorance as to facts.
" * Thus far,' he observed, * we know nothing of that part
of her delusion which relates to Mercy Merrick. The solu-
tion of the difficulty, in this case, is to be found there. I en-
tirely agree with the lady that the inquiries of the consul at
Mannheim are far from being conclusive. Furnish me with
satisfactory evidence either that there is, or is not, such a per-
son really in existence as Mercy Merrick, and I will give you
a positive opinion on the case whenever you choose to ask
for it.'
"Those words have decided me on starting for the Conti-
nent and renewing the search for Mercy Merrick.
"My friend the lawyer wonders jocosely whether I sun in
my right senses. His advice is that I should apply to the
nearest magistrate, and relieve yon and myself of all further
trouble in that way.
"Perhaps you agree with him? My dear aunt (as you
have often said), I do nothing like other people. I am inter-
ested in this case. I can not abandon a forlorn woman who
has been confided to me to the tender mercies of strangers,
so long as there is any hope of my making discoveries which
may be instrumental in restoring her to herself perhaps,
also, in restoring her to her friends.
"I start by the mail-train of to-night. My plan is to go
first to Mannheim and consult with the consul and the hospir
tal doctors ; then to find my way to the German surgeon and
to question him; and, that done, to make the last and hard-
est effort of all the effort to trace the French ambulance and
to penetrate the mystery of Mercy Merrick.
"Immediately on my return I will wait on you, and tell
you what I have accomplished, or how I have failed.
" In the mean while, pray be under no alarm about the re-
appearance of this unhappy woman at your house. She is
folly occupied in writing (at my suggestion) to her friends in
120 THE NEW MAGDAUCX.
Canada; and she is under the care of the landlady at her
lodgings an experienced and trustworthy person, who has
satisfied the doctor as well as myself of her fitness for the
charge that she has undertaken.
"Pray mention this to Miss Roseberiy (whenever you
think it desirable), with the respectful expression of my sym-
pathy, and of my best wishes for her speedy restoration to
health. And once more forgive me for failing, under stress
of necessity, to enjoy the hospitality of Mablethorpe House."
Lady Janet closed Julian's letter, feeling far from satisfied
with it. She sat for a while, pondering over what her neph-
ew had written to her.
" One of two things," thought the quick-witted old lady.
" Either the lawyer is right, and Julian is a fit companion
for the madwoman whom he has taken under his charge, or
he has some second motive for this absurd journey of his
which he has carefully abstained from mentioning in his let-
ter. What can the motive be ?"
At intervals during the night that question recurred to her
ladyship again and again. The utmost exercise of her in-
genuity failing to answer it, her one resource left was to wait
patiently for Julian's return, and, in her own favorite phrase,
to " have it out of him " then.
The next morning Lady Janet and her adopted daughter
left Mablethorpe House for Brighton; Horace (who had
begged to be allowed to accompany them) being sentenced to
remain in London by Mercy's express desire. Why ^nobody
could guess ; and Mercy refused to say.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 121
CHAPTER Xni.
ENTER JULIAN.
A WEEK has passed. The scene opens again in the dining-
room at Mablethorpe House.
The hospitable table bears once more its burden of good
things for lunch. But on this occasion Lady Janet sits
alone. Her attention is divided between reading her news-
paper and feeding her cat. The cat is a sleek and splendid
creature. He carries an erect tail. He rolls luxuriously on
the soft carpet. He approaches his mistress in a series of
coquettish curves. He smells with dainty hesitation at the
choicest morsels that can be offered to him. The musical
monotony of his purring falls soothingly on her ladyship's ear.
She stops in the middle of a leading article and looks with a
careworn face at the happy cat. "Upon my honor," cries
Lady Janet, thinking, in her inveterately ironical manner, of
the cares that trouble her, " all things considered, Tom, I
wish I was You !"
The cat starts not at his mistress's complimentary apos-
trophe, but at a knock at the door, which follows close upon
it. Lady Janet says, carelessly enough, " Come in ;" looks
round listlessly to see who it is ; and starts, like the cat, when
the door opens and discloses Julian Gray I
"You or your ghost?" she exclaims.
She has noticed already that Julian is paler than usual, and
that there is something in his manner at once uneasy and sub-
dued highly uncharacteristic of him at other times. He
takes a seat by her side, and kisses her hand. But for the
first time in his aunt's experience of him he refuses the good
things on the luncheon-table, and he has nothing to say to the
122 THB NEW UABDAIJSS.
cat ! That neglected animal takes ref oge on Lady Janet^s
lap. Lady Janet, with her eyes fixed expectantly on her
nephew (determining to " have it out of him " at the first op-
portunity), waits to hear what he has to say for himself. Ju-
lian has no alternativo but to break the silence, and tell his
story as he best may.
"I got back from the Continent last night," he began.
"And I come here, as I promised, to report myself on my
return. How does your ladyship do? How is Miss Bose-
berry ?"
Lady Janet laid an indicative finger on the lace pelerine
which ornamented the upper part of her dress. " Here is the
old lady, well, ' she answered and pointed next to the room
above them. "And there," she added, " is the young lady,
ill. Is any thing the matter with you, Julian ?"
"Perhaps I am a little tired after my journey. Never
mind me. Is Miss Roseberry still suffering from the shock ?"
"What else should she be suffering from? I will never
forgive you, Julian, for bringing that craigr impostor into my
house."
" My dear aunt, when I was the innocent means of bring-
ing her here I had no idea that such a person as Miss Rose-
berry was in existence. Nobody laments what has happened
more sincerely than I do. Have you had medical advice ?"
" I took her to the sea-side a week since by medical advice."
" Has the change of air done her no good ?"
" None whatever. If any thing, the change of air has
made her worse. Sometimes she sits for hours together, as
pale as death, without looking at any thing, and without ut-
tering a word. Sometimes she brightens up, and seems as if
she was eager to say something ; and then, Heaven only knows
why, checks herself suddenly as if she was afraid to speak. I
could support that. But what cuts me to the heart, Julian,
is, that she does not appear to trust me and to love me as she
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 123
did. She seems to be doubtful of me ; she seems to be fright-
ened of me. If I did not know that it was simply impossible
that such a thing could bo, I should really think she suspect-
ed me of believing what that wretch said of her. In one
word (and between ourselves), I begin to fear she wiU never
get over the fright which caused that fainting-fit. There is
serious mischief somewhere ; and, try as I may to discover it^
it is mischief beyond my finding."
" Can the doctor do nothing ?"
Lady Janet's bright black eyes answered before she replied
in words, with a look of supreme contempt.
"The doctor!" she repeated, disdainfully. "I brought
Grace back last night in sheer despair, and I sent for the doc-
tor this morning. He is at the head of his profession ; he is
said to be making ten thousand a year ; and he knows no
more about it than I do. I am quite serious. The great
physician has just gone away with two guineas in his pocket.
One guinea for advising me to keep her quiet ; another guinea
for telling me to trust to time. Do you wonder how he gets
on at this rate ? My dear boy, they all get on in the same
way. The medical profession thrives on two incurable dis-
eases in these modern days a He-disease and a She-disease.
She-disease nervous depression ; He-disease suppressed
gout. Remedies, one guinea if you go to the doctor ; two
guineas if the doctor goes to you. I might have bought a
new bonnet," cried her ladyship, indignantly, " with the mon-
ey I have given to that man I Let us change the subject. I
lose my temper when I think of it. Besides, I want to know
something. Why did you go abroad ?"
At that plain question Julian looked unaffectedly surprised.
"I wrote to explain," he said. "Have you not received my
letter?"
"Oh, I got your letter. It was long enough, in all con-
science; and, long as it was, it didn't tell me the one thing I
wanted to know."
124 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" What is the * one thing ?' ""
Lady Janet's reply pointed not too palpably at first-^at
that second motive for Julian's journey which she had sus-
pected Julian of concealing from her.
" I want to know," she said, " why you troubled yourself to
make your inquiries on the Continent in person f You know
where my old courier is to be found. You have yourself pro-
nounced him to be the most intelligent and trustworthy of
men. Answer me honestly could you not have sent him in
your place ?'*
'^ I might have sent him," Julian admitted, a little rduo-
tantly.
"You might have sent the courier and you were under
an engagement to stay here as my guest. Answer me honest-
ly once more. Why did you go away ?"
Julian hesitated. Lady Janet paused for bis reply, with
the air of a woman who was prepared to wait (if necessary)
for the rest of the afternoon.
"I had a reason of my own for going," Julian said at
last.
" Yes ?" rejoined Lady Janet, prepared to wait (if neces-
sary) till the next moruing.
"A reason," Julian resumed, " which I would rather not
mention."
" Oh !" said Lady Janet. " Another mystery eh ? And
another woman at the bottom of it, no doubt. Thank you
that will do I am sufficiently answered. No wonder, as a
clergyman, that you look a little confused. There is, perhaps,
a certain grace, under the circumstances, in looking confused.
We will change the subject again. You stay here, of course,
now you have come back ?"
Once more the famous pulpit orator seemed to find himself
in the inconceivable predicament of not knowing what to say.
Once more Lady Janet looked resigned to wait (if necessary)
until the middle of next week.
THB KBW MAGDALEN. 125
Julian took refuge in an answer worthy of the most con^
monplace man on the face of the civilized earth.
"I beg your ladyship to accept my thanks and my ex-
cuses," he said.
I^ady Janet's many-ringed fingers, mechanically stroking
the cat in her lap, began to stroke him the wrong way. Lady
Janet's inexhaustible patience showed signs of failing her at
last.
"Mighty civil, I am sure," she said. "Make it complete.
Say, Mr. Julian Gray presents his compliments to Lady Janet
Roy, and regrets that a previous engagement Julian !" ex-
claimed the old lady, suddenly pushing the cat off her lap, and
flinging her last pretense of good temper to the winds " Ju-
lian, I am not to be trifled with ! There is but one expla-
nation of your conduct you are evidently avoiding my house.
Is there somebody you dislike in it ? Is it me ?"
Julian intimated by a gesture that his aunt's last question
was absurd. (The much-injured cat elevated his back, waved
his tail slowly, walked to the fire-place, and honored the rug
by taking a seat on it.)
Lady Janet persisted. "Is it Grace Roseberry?" she ask-
ed next.
Even Julian's patience began to show signs of yielding.
His manner assumed a sudden decision, his voice rose a tone
louder.
"You insist on knowing?" he said. "It is Miss Rose-
berry."
" You don't like her ?" cried Lady Janet, with a sudden
burst of angry surprise.
Julian broke out, on his side : " If I see any more of her,"
he answered, the rare color mounting passionately in his
cheeks, " I shall be the unhappiest man living. If I see any
more of her, I shall be false to my old friend, who is to marry
her. Keep us apart. If you have any regard for my peace
of mind, keep us apart."
6*
126 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Unutterable amazement expressed itself in bis aunt's lifted
bands. Ungovernable curiosity uttered itself in bis aunt's
next words.
" You don't mean to tell me you are in love witb Grace ?"
Julian sprung restlessly to bis feet, and disturbed tbe cat at
the fire-place. (The cat left the room.)
" I don't know what to tell you," be said ; " I can't realize
it to myself. No other woman has ever roused the feeling in
me which this woman seems to have called to life in an in-
stant. In the hope of forgetting her I broke my engagement
here ; I purposely seized the opportunity of making those in-
quiries abroad. Quite useless. I think of her, morning, nooni
and night. I see her and hear her, at this moment, as plainly
as I see and hear you. She has made Aerself a part of myself.
I don't understand my life without her. My power of will
seems to be gone. I said to myself this morning, ' I will write
to my aunt ; I won't go back to Mablethorpe House.' Here
I am in Mablethorpe House, with a mean subterfuge to justify
me to my own conscience. * I owe it to my aunt to call on
my aunt.' That is what I said to myself on the way here;
and I was secretly hoping every step of the way that she
would come into the room when I got here. I am hoping it
now. And she is engaged to Horace Holmcroft to my old-
est friend, to my best friend ! Am I an infernal rascal ? or
am I a weak fool? God knows I don't. Keep my secret,
aunt. I am heartily ashamed of myself ; I used to think I
was made of better stufE than this. Don't say a word to
Horace. I must, and will, conquer it. Let me go."
He snatched up his hat. Lady Janet, rising with the ac-
tivity of a young woman, pursued him across the room, and
stopped him at the door.
"No," answered the resolute old lady, "I won't let you go.
Come back with me."
As she said those words she noticed with a certain fond
pride the brilliant color mounting in his cheeks ^the flashing
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 127
brightness which lent an added lustre to his eyes. He had
never, to her mind, looked so handsome before. She took his
arm, and led him to the chairs which they had just left. It
was shocking, it was wrong (she mentally admitted) to look
on Mercy, under the circumstances, with any other eye than
the eye of a brother or a friend. In a clergyman (perhaps)
doubly shocking, doubly wrong. But, with all her respect for
the vested interests of Horace, Lady Janet could not blame
Julian. Worse still, she was privately conscious that he had,
somehow or other, risen, rather than fallen, in her estimation
within the last minute or two. Who could deny that her
adopted daughter was a charming creature? Who could
wonder if a man of refined tastes admired her? Upon the
whole, her ladyship humanely decided that her nephew was
rather to be pitied than blamed. What daughter of Eve (no
matter whether she was seventeen or seventy) could have
honestly arrived at any other conclusion ? Do what a man
may ^let him commit any thing he likes, from an error to a
crime so long as there is a woman at the bottom of it, there
is an inexhaustible fund of pardon for him in eveiy other
woman's heart. "Sit down," said Lady Janet, smiling in
spite of herself; "and don't talk in that horrible way again.
A man, Julian especially a famous man like you ought to
know how to control himself."
Julian burst out laughing bitterly.
" Send up stairs for my self-control," he said. " It's in h&t
possession not in mine. Good-morning, aunt."
He rose from his chair. Lady Janet instantly pushed him
back into it.
" I insist on your staying here," she said, " if it is only for
a few minutes longer. I have something to say to you."
"Does it refer to Miss Roseberry?"
"It refers to the hateful woman who frightened Miss Rose*
berry. Now are you satisfied ?"
Julian bowed, and settled himself in his chair.
-
128 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
^ I don't much like to acknowledge it," his annt went on.
^' But I want you to understand that I have something really
serious to speak about, for once in a way. Julian! that
wretch not only frightens Grace she actually frightens me."
" P^rightens you ? She is quite harmless, poor thing."
"'Poor thing!'" repeated Lady Janet. "Did you say
* poor thing ?' "
" Yes."
" Is it possible that you pity her ?"
" From the bottom of my heart."
The old lady's temper gave way again at that reply. "I
hate a man who can't hate any body !" she burst out. " If
you had been an ancient Roman, Julian, I believe you would
have pitied Nero himself."
Julian cordially agreed with her. " I believe I should," he
said, quietly. "All sinners, my dear- aunt, are more or less
miserable sinnei*s. Nero must have been one of the wretch-
edest of mankind."
" Wretched !" exclaimed Lady Janet. " Nero w^retched !
A man who committed robbery, arson, and murder to his own
violin accompaniment only wretched ! What next, I won-
der? When modern philanthropy begins to apologize for
Nero, modern philanthropy has arrived at a pretty pass in-
deed ! We shall hear next that Bloody Queen Mary was as
playful as a kitten ; and if poor dear Henry the Eighth carried
any thing to an extreme, it was the practice of the domestic
virtues. Ah, how I hate cant ! What were we talking about
just now? You wander from the subject, Julian ; you are
what I call bird-witted. I protest I forget what I wanted to
say to you. No, I won't be reminded of it. I may be an old
woman, but I am not in my dotage yet ! Why do you sit
there staring? Have you nothing to say for yourself? Of
all the people in the world, have you lost the use of your
tongue ?"
Julian's excellent temper and accurate knowledge of his
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 129
aunt's character exactly fitted him to calm the rising Btorm.
He contrived to lead Lady Janet insensibly back to the lost
subject by dexterous reference to a narrative which he had
thus far left untold the narrative of his adventures on the
Continent.
"I have a great deal to say, aunt," he replied. "I have
not yet told you of my discoveries abroad."
Lady Janet instantly took the bait.
" I knew there was something forgotten," she said. " You
have been all this time in the house, and you have told me
nothing. Begin directly."
Patient Julian began.
CHAPTER XIV.
COMma EVENTS CAST THEIB SHADOWS BEFORE.
" I WENT first to Mannheim, Lady Janet, as I told you I
should in my letter, and I heard all that the consul and the
hospital doctors could tell me. No new fact of the slightest
importance turned up. I got my directions for finding the
German surgeon, and I set forth to try what I could make
next of the man who had performed the operation. On the
question of his patient's identity he had (as a perfect stranger
to her) nothing to tell me. On the question of her mental
condition, however, he made a very important statement. He
owned to me that he had operated on another person injured
by a shell-wound on the head at the battle of Solferino, and
that the patient (recovering also in this case) recovered mad.
That is a remarkable admission ; don't you think so ?"
Lady Janet's temper had hardly been allowed time enough
to subside to its customary level.
"Very remarkable, I dare say," she answered, "to people
who feel any doubt of this pitiable lady of yours being mad.
I feel no doubt and, thus far, I find your account of your*
ISO THB XSW MAGDALEK.
self, Julian, tiresome in the extreme. Get on to the end.
Did you lay your hand on Mercy Merrick ?"
" No.^
" Did you hear any thing of her ?'*
" Nothing. Difficulties beset me on every side. The French
ambulance had shared in the disasters of France it was
broken up. The wounded Frenchmen were prisoners some-
where in Germany, nobody knew where. The French sur-
geon had been killed in action. His aasistants were scattered
most likely in hiding. I began to despair of making any
discovery, when accident threw in my way two Prussian
soldiers who had been in the French cottage. They confirm-
ed what the German surgeon told the consul, and what Hor-
ace himself told me namely, that no nurse in a black dress
was to be seen in the place. If there had been such a per-
son, she would certainly (the Prussians inform me) have been
found in attendance on the injured Frenchmen. The cross of
the Geneva Convention would have been amply sufficient to
protect her : no woman wearing that badge of honor would
have disgraced herself by abandoning the wounded men be-
fore the Germans entered the place."
" In short," interposed Lady Janet, " there is no such per-
son as Mercy Merrick."
" I can draw no other conclusion," said Julian, '^ unless the
English doctor's idea is the right one. After hearing what
I have just told you, he thinks the woman herself is Mercy
Merrick."
Lady Janet held up her hand as a sign that she had an ob-
jection to make here.
" You and the doctor seem to have settled every thing to
your entire satisfaction on both sides," she said. " But there
is one difficulty that you have neither of you accounted for
yet."
" What is it, aunt ?"
" You talk glibly enough, Julian, about this woman's mad
THB KBW MAGDALEN. 181
tussertion that Grace is the missing nurse, and that she is
Grace. Bat you have not explained yet how the idea first
got into her head ; and, more than that, how it is that she is
acquaiiited with my name and address, and perfectly familiar
with Grace's papers and Grace's affairs. These things are
a puzzle to a person of my average intelligence. Can your
clever friend, the doctor, account for them ?"
" Shall I tell you what he said when I saw him this morning ?"
Will it take long?"
** It will take about a minute."
** You agreeably surprise me. Go on."
**You want to know how she gained her knowledge of
your name and of Miss Roseberi*y's affairs," Julian resumed.
*' The doctor says in one of two ways. Either Miss Roseber-
ry must have spoken of you and of her own affairs while she
and the stranger were together in the French cottage, or the
stranger must have obtained access privately to Miss Koseber-
ry's papers. Do you agree so far?"
Lady Janet began to feel interested for the first time.
" Perfectly," she said. " I have no doubt Grace rashly talk-
ed of matters which an older and wiser person would have
kept to herself.'*
"Very good. Do you also agree that the last idea in the
woman's mind when she was struck by the shell might have
been (quite probably) the idea of Miss Roseberry's identity
and Miss Roseberry's affairs ? You think it likely enough ?
Well, what happens after that? The wounded woman is
brought to life by an operation, and she becomes delirious
in the hospital at Mannheim. During her delirium the idea
of Miss Roseberry's identity ferments in her brain, and as-
sumes its present perverted form. In that form it still re-
mains. As a necessary consequence, she persists in reversing
the two identities. She says she is Miss Roseberry, and de-
clares Miss Roseberry to be Mercy Merrick. There is the
doctor's explanation. What do you think of it ?"
182 TUS KBW MAQDALSlf.
" Very ingenious, I dare say. The doctor doesn't qaite
satisfy me, however, for all that. I think ^"
What Lady Janet thought was not destined to be express-
ed. She suddenly checked herself, and held up her hand for
the second time.
"Another objection?" inquired Julian.
" Hold your tongue !" cried the old lady, " If you say a
word more I shall lose it again."
" Lose what, aunt ?"
" What I wanted to say to you ages ago. I have got it
back again it begins with a question. (No more of the
doctor I have had enough of him !) Where is she your
pitiable lady, my crazy wretch where is she now ? Still in
London ?"
" Yes."
"And still at large ?"
" Still with the landlady, at her lodgings."
" Very well. Now answer me this ! What is to prevent
her from making another attempt to force her way (or steal
her way) into my house ? How am I to protect Grace, how
am I to protect myself, if she comes here again ?"
" Is that really w hat you wished to speak to me about ?"
" That, and nothing else."
They were both too deeply interested in the subject of
their conversation to look toward the conservatory, and to
notice the appearance at that moment of a distant gentleman
among the plants and flowers, who had made his way in from
the garden outside. Advancing noiselessly on the soft In-
dian matting, the gentleman ere long revealed himself under
the form and features of Horace Holmcroft. Before enter-
ing the dining-room he paused, fixing his eyes inquisitively
on the back of Lady Janet's visitor the back being all that
he could see in the position he then occupied. After a pause
of an instant the visitor spoke, and further uncertainty was
THE NBW MAGDALEN. 138
at once at an end. Horace, nevertheless, made no movement
to enter the room. He had his own jealous distrust of what
Julian might be tempted to say at a private interview with
his aunt ; and he waited a little longer on the chance that his
doubts might be verified.
" Neither you nor Miss Roseberry need any protection from
the poor deluded creature," Julian went on. "1 have gained
gi'eat influence over her and I have satisfied her that it is
useless to present herself here again."
" I beg your pardon," interposed Horace, speaking from
the conservatory door. " You have done nothing of the sort."
(He had heard enough to satisfy him that the talk was not
taking the direction which his suspicions had anticipated.
And, as an additional incentive to show himself, a happy
chance had now offered him the opportunity of putting Ju-
lian in the wrong.)
" Good heavens, Horace !" exclaimed Lady Janet. " Where
did you come from? And what do you mean?"
" I heard at the lodge that your ladyship and Grace had
returned last night. And I came in at once, without trou-
bling the servants, by the shortest way." He turned to Julian
next. "The woman you were speaking of just now," he pro-
ceeded, "has been hero again already in Lady Janet's ab-
sence."
Lady Janet immediately looked at her nephew. Julian re-
assured her by a gesture.
" Impossible," he said. " There must be some mistake."
" There is no mistake," Horace rejoined. " I am repeating
what I have just heard from the lodge-keeper himself. He
hesitated to mention it to Lady Janet for fear of alarming
her. Only three days since this person had the audacity to
%sk him for her ladyship's address at the sea-side. Of course
he refused to give it."
" You hear that, Julian ?" said Lady Janet.
No signs of anger or mortification escaped Julian. The
134 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
expression in his face at that moment was an expression of
sincere distress.
" Pray don't alarm yourself," he said to his aunt, in his qui-
etest tones. " If she attempts to annoy you or Miss Rose-
berry again, I have it in ray power to stop her instantly."
" How ?" asked Lady Janet.
" How, indeed !" echoed Horace. " K we give her in charge
to the police, we shall become the subject of a public scandal."
" I have managed to avoid all danger of scandal," Julian an-
swered ; the expression of distress in his face becoming more
and more marked while he spoke. " Before I called here to-
day I had a private consultation with the magistrate of the
district, and I have made certain aiTangements at the police
station close by. On receipt of my card, an experienced man,
in plain clothes, will present himself at any address that I in-
dicate, and will take her quietly away. The magistrate will
hear the charge in his private room, and will examine the evi-
dence which I can produce, showing that she is not account-
able for her actions. The proper medical officer will report
officially on the case, and the law will place her under the
necessary restraint."
Lady Janet and Horace looked at each other in amazement.
Julian was, in their opinion, the last man on earth to take
the course at once sensible and severe which Julian had
actually adopted. Lady Janet insisted on an explanation.
" Why do I hear of this now for the first time ?" she ask-
ed. " Why did you not tell me you had taken these precau-
tions before ?"
Julian answered frankly and sadly.
" Because I hoped, aunt, that there would be no necessity
for proceeding to extremities. You now force me to acknowl-
edge that the lawyer and the doctor (both of whom I have
seen this morning) think, as you do, that she is not to be
trusted. It was at their suggestion entirely that I went to
the magistrate. They put it to me whether the result of my
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 135
inquiries abroad unsatisfactory as it may have been in other
respects di4 not strengthen the conclusion that the poor
woman's mind is deranged. I felt compelled in common
honesty to admit that it was so. Having owned this, I was
bound to take such precautions as the lawyer and the doctor
thought neeessaiy. I have done my duty sorely against my
own will. It is weak of me, I dare say; but I can not bear
the thought of treating this afflicted creature harshly. Her
delusion is so hopeless ! her situation is such a pitiable one !"
His voice faltered. He turned away abruptly and took up
his hat. Lady Janet followed him, and spoke to him at the
door. Horace smiled satirically, and went to warm himself
at the fire.
"Are you going away, Julian?"
" I am only going to the lodge-keeper. I want to give him
a word of warning in case of his seeing her again."
"You will come back here?" (Lady Janet lowered her
voice to a whisper.) " There is really a reason, Julian, for
your not leaving the house now."
" I promise not to go away, aunt, until I have provided for
your security. If you, or your adopted daughter, are alarmed
by another intrusion, I give you my word of honor my card
shall go to the police station, however painfully I may feel
it myself." (He, too, lowered his voice at the next words.)
" In the mean time, remember what I confessed to you while
we were alone. For my sake, let me see as little of Miss
Roseberry as possible. Shall I find you in this room when I
come back ?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
He laid a strong emphasis, of look as well as of tone, on
that one word. Lady Janet understood what the emphasis
meant.
"Are you really," she whispered, "as much in love with
Grace as that?"
186 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Julian laid one hand on his aunt's arm, and pointed with
the other to Horace standing with his back to them^ warm-
ing his feet on the fender.
" Well ?" said Lady Janet.
'^ Wei V said Julian, with a smile on his lip and a tear in
his eye, " I never envied any man as I envy him /"
With those words he left the room.
CHAPTER XV.
A woman's bemorse.
Haying warmed his feet to his own entire satisfaction,
Horace turned round from the fire-place, and discovered that
he and Lady Janet were alone.
"Can I see Grace?" he asked.
The easy tone in which he put the question a tone, as it
were, of proprietorship in " Grace" ^jarred on Lady Janet at
the moment. For the first time in her life she found herself
comparing Horace with Julian to Horace's disadvantage.
He was rich ; he was a gentleman of ancient lineage ; he bore
an unblemished character. But who had the strong brain?
who had the great heart? Which was the Man of the two?
" Nobody can see her," answered Lady Janet. " Not even
you !"
The tone of the reply was sharp, w^ith a dash of irony in it
But where is the modern young man, possessed of health and
an independent income, who is capable of understanding that
irony can be presumptuous enough to address itself to him ?
Horace (with perfect politeness) declined to consider himself
answered.
" Does your ladyship mean that Miss Roseberry is in bed?"
he asked.
" I mean that Miss Roseberry is in her room. I mean that
I have twice tried to persuade Miss Roseberry to dress and
TH KfiW HAGDALSlf. 137
oome down stairs, and tried in vain. I mean that what Miss
Rosebeny refuses to do for Me, she is not likely to do for
You'*
How many more meanings of her own Lady Janet might
have gone on enumerating, it is not easy to calculate. At her
third sentence a sound in the library caught her ear through
the incompletely closed dt)or, and suspended the next words
on her lips. Horace heard it also. It was the rustling sound
(traveling nearer and nearer over the library carpet) of a silk-
en dress.
(In the interval while a coming event remains in a state of
uncertainty, what is it the inevitable tendency of every En-
glishman under thirty to do? His inevitable tendency is to
ask somebody to bet on the event. He can no more resist it
than he can resist lifting his stick or his umbrella, in the ab-
sence of a gun, and pretending to shoot if a bird flies by him
while he is out for a walk.)
" What will your ladyship bet that this is not Grace ?" cried
Horace.
Her ladyship took no notice of the proposal ; her attention
i*emained fixed on the library door. The rustling sound stop-
ped for a moment. The door was softly pushed open. The
false Grace Roseberry entered the room.
Horace advanced to meet her, opened his lips to speak, and
stopped struck dumb by the change in his affianced wife
since he had seen her last. Some terrible oppression seemed
to have crushed her. It was as if she had actually shrunk in
height as well as in substance. She walked more slowly than
usual ; she spoke more rarefy than usual, and in a lower tone.
To those who had seen her before the fatal visit of the stran-
ger from Mannheim, it was the wreck of the woman that now
appeared instead of the woman herself. And yet there was
the old charm still surviving through it all ; the grandeur of
the head and eyes, the delicate symmetry of the feature?, the
oosonght grace of every movement ^in a word, the unconquer-
188 THK NIEW HAGDALSK
able beaaty which saflEering can not destroy, and which time
itself is powerless to wear out.
Lady Janet advanced, and took her with hearty kindness
by both hands.
*^ My dear child, welcome among as again 1 You have
come down stairs to please me ?"
She bent her head in silent acknowledgment that it was so
Lady Janet pointed to Horace : ^ Here is somebody who has
been longing to see you, Grace."
She never looked up ; she stood submissive, her eyes fixed
on a little basket of colored wools which hung on her arm.
"Thank you, Lady Janet," she said, faintly. "Thank you,
Horace."
Horace placed her arm in his, and led her to the sofa. She
shivered as she took her seat, and looked round her. It was
the first time she had seen the dining-room since the day
when she had found herself face to face with the dead-alive.
" Why do you come here, my love ?" asked Lady Janet.
" The drawing-room would have been a warmer and a pleas-
anter place for you."
" 1 saw a carriage at the front-door. I was afraid of meet-
ing with visitors in the drawing-room."
As she made that reply, the servant came in, and announced
the visitors' names. Lady Janet sighed wearily. "I must
go and get rid of them," she said, resigning herself to cir- .
cumstances. " What will you do, Grace ?"
" I will stay here, if you please."
" I will keep her company," added Horace.
Lady Janet hesitated. She had promised to see her neph-
ew in the dining-room on his return to the house and to see
him alone. Would there be time enough to get rid of the
visitors and to establish her adopted daughter in the empty
drawing-room before Julian appeared? It was ten minutes',
walk to the lodge, and he had to make the gate-keeper under-
stand his instructions. Lady Janet decided that she bad time
THE NSW MAGDALEN. 139
enough at her disposal. She nodded kindly to Mercy^ and
left her alone with her lover.
Horace seated himself in the vacant place on the sofa. So
far as it was in his nature to devote himself to any one he
was devoted to Mercy. " I am grieved to see how you have
suffered/' he said, with honest distress in his face as he looked
at her. " Try to forget what has happened."
" I am trying to forget. Do you think of it much ?"
" My darling, it is too contemptible to be thought of."
She placed her work-basket on her lap. Her wasted fin-
gers began absently sorting the wools inside.
"Hive you seen Mr. Julian Gray?" she asked, suddenly.
Yes."
** What does he say about it ?" She looked at Horace for
the first time, steadily scrutinizing his face. Horace took
refuge in prevarication.
" I really haven't asked for Julian's opinion," he said.
She looked down again, with a sigh, at the basket on her
lap considered a little and tried him once more.
"Why has Mr. Julian Gray not been here for a whole
week?" she went on. " The servants say he has been abroad.
Is that true ?"
It was useless to deny it. Horace admitted that the serv-
ants were right.
Her fingers suddenly stopped at their restless work among
the wools; her breath quickened perceptibly. What had
Julian Gray been doing abroad ? Had he been making in-
quiries ? Did he alone, of all the people who saw that terri-
ble meeting, suspect her? Yes! His was the finer intelli-
gence ; his was a clergyman's (a London clergyman's) expe-
rience of frauds and deceptions, and of the women who were
guilty of them. Not a doubt of it now ! Julian suspected
her.
"When does he come back?" she asked, in tones so low
that Hocace could barely hear her.
140 THS KW )fJLGDALBK
^ He has como back already. He returned last night*^
A faint shade of color stole slowly over the pallor of her
face. She suddenly put her basket away, and clasped her
hands together to quiet the trembling of them, before she
asked her next question.
" Where is " She paused to steady her voice. " Where
is the person/' she resumed, ^^ who came here and frightened
me?"
Horace hastened to reassure her. ^^ The person will not
come again," he said. '^ Don't talk of her ! Don't think of
her I"
She shook her head. ^^ There is something I want to know,*'
she persisted. " How did Mr. Julian Gray become acquaint-
ed with her ?"
This was easily answered. Horace mentioned the consul
at Mannheim, and the letter of introduction. She listened
eagerly, and said her next words in a louder, fii-mer tone.
" She was quite a stranger, then, to Mr. Julian Gray ^be-
fore that ?"
" Quite a stranger," Horace replied. " No more questions
not another word about her, Grace ! I forbid the subject.
Come, my own love !" he said, taking her hand and bending
over her tenderly, " rally your spirits ! We are young we
love each other now is our time to be happy I"
Her hand turned suddenly cold, and trembled in his. Her
head sank with a helpless weariness on her breast. Horace
rose in alarm.
" You are cold you are faint," he said. "Let me get you
a glass of wine ! let me mend the fire !"
The decanters were still on the luncheon-table. Horace in-
sisted on her drinking some port-wine. She barely took half
the contents of the wine-glass. Even that little told on her
sensitive organization ; it roused her sinking energies of body
and mind. After watching her anxiously, without attracting
her notice, Horace left her again to attend to the fire at the
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 141
Other end of the room. Her eyes followed him slowly with
a hard and tearless despair. " Rally your spirits," she repeat-
ed to herself in a whisper. " My spirits I O God I" She
looked round her at the luxury and beauty of the room, as
those look who take their leave of familiar scenes. The mo-
ment after, her eyes sank, and rested on the rich dress that
she wore a gift from Lady Janet. She thought of the past ;
she thought of the future. Was the time near when she
would be back again in the Refuge, or back again in the
streets ? she who had been Lady Janet's adopted daughter,
and Horace Holmcroft's betrothed wife ! A sudden frenzy of
recklessness seized on her as she thought of the coming end.
Horace was right ! Why not rally her spirits ? Why not
make the most of her time ? The last hours of her life in
that house were at hand. Why not enjoy her stolen position
while she could ? "Adventuress !" whispered the mocking
spirit within her, " be true to your character. Away with
your remorse ! Remorse is the luxury of an honest woman."
She caught up her basket of wools, inspired by a new idea.
" Ring the bell I" she cried out to Horace at the fire-place.
He looked round in wonder. The sound of her voice was
so completely altered that he almost fancied there must have
been another woman in the room.
" Ring the bell !" she repeated. " I have left my work up
stairs. If you want me to be in good spirits, I must have my
work."
Still looking at her, Horace put his hand mechanically to
the bell and rang. One of the men-servants came in.
" Go up stairs and ask my maid for my work," she said,
sharply. Even the man was taken by surprise : it was her
habit to speak to the servants with a gentleness and consid-
eration which had long since won all their hearts. " Do you
hear me ?" she asked, impatiently. The servant bowed, and
went out on his errand. She turned to Horace with flashing
eyes and fevered cheeks.
7
142 THB NEW MAGDALE^r.
''What a comfort it isy^she said, 'Ho belong to the upper
classes ! A poor woman has no maid to dress her, and no
footman to send up stairs. Is life worth having, Horace, on
less than five thousand a year ?"
The servant returned with a strip of embroidery. She took
it with an insolent grace, and told him to bring her a foot-
stool. The man obeyed. She tossed the embroidery away
from her on the sofa. " On second thoughts, I don't care
about my work,*' she said. " Take it up stairs again." The
perfectly trained servant, marveling privately, obeyed once
more. Horace, in silent astonishment, advanced to the sofa
to observe her more nearly. " How gi-ave you look !" she ex-
claimed, with an air of flippant unconcern. " You don't ap-
prove of my sitting idle, perhaps ? Any thing to please you !
I haven't got to go up and down stairs. Ring the bell
again."
" My dear Grace," Horace remonstrated, gravely, " you are
quite mistaken. I never even thought of your work."
" Never mind ; it's inconsistent to send for my work, and
then send it away again. Ring the bell."
Horace looked at her without moving. " Grace," he said,
" what has come to you ?"
" How should I know ?" she retorted, carelessly. " Didn't
you tell me to rally my spirits ? Will you ring the bell, or
must I ?"
Horace submitted. He frowned as he walked back to the
bell. He was one of the many people who instinctively re-
sent any thing that is new to them. This strange outbreak
was quite new to him. For the first time in his life he felt
sympathy for a servant, when the much-enduring man ap-
peared once more.
" Bring my work back ; I have changed ray mind." With
that brief explanation she reclined luxuriously on the soft
sofa-cushions, swinging one of her balls of wool to and fro
above her head^ and looking at it lazily as she lay back. " I
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 143
have a remark to make, Horace," she went on, when the door
had closed on her messenger. " It is only people in our rank
of life who get good servants. Did you notice ? Nothing
upsets that man's temper. A servant in a poor family would
have been impudent ; a maid-of-all-work would have wonder-
ed when I was going to know my own mind." The man
returned with the embroidery. This time she received him
graciously ; she dismissed him with her thanks. " Have you
seen your mother lately, Horace ?" she asked, suddenly sit'
ting up and busying herself with her work.
" I saw her yesterday," Horace answered.
" She understands, I hope, that I am not well enough to call
on her ? She is not ofEended with me ?"
Horace recovered his serenity. The deference to his moth-
er implied in Mercy's questions gently flattered his self-esteem.
He resumed his place on the sofa.
" OfEended with you !" he answered, smiling. " My dear
^race, she sends you her love. And, more than that, she has
a wedding present for you."
Mercy became absorbed in her work; she stooped close
over the embroidery so close that Horace could not see her
face. "Do you know what the present is?" she asked, in
lowered tones, speaking absently.
" No. I only know it is waiting for you. Shall I go and
get it to-day ?"
She neither accepted nor refused the proposal she went on
with her work more industriously than ever.
" There is plenty of time," Horace persisted. " I can go
before dinner."
Still she took no notice : still she never looked up. " Your
mother is very kind to me," she said, abruptly. "I was
afraid, at one time, that she would think me hardly good
enough to be your wife."
Horace laughed indulgently : his self-esteem was more gen-
tly flattered than ever.
144 THE NSW MAGDALEN.
"Absurd!" he exclaimed. "My darling, you are connect-
ed with Lady Janet Roy. Your famUy is almost as good as
ours."
"Almost ?" she repeated. " Only almost ?"
The momentary levity of expression vanished from Hor-
ace's face. The family question was far too serious a ques-
tion to be lightly treated. A becoming shadow of solemnity
stole over his manner. He looked as if it was Sunday, and he
was just stepping into church.
" In ouB family," he said, " we trace back ^by my father,
to the Saxons ; by my mother, to the Normans. Lady Ja-
net's family is an old family on her side only."
Mercy dropped her embroidery, and looked Horace full in
the face. She, too, attached no common importance to what
she had next to say.
" If I had not been connected with Lady Janet," she be-
gan, " would you ever have thought of marrying me ?"
" My love ! what is the use of asking ? You are connect-
ed with Lady Janet."
She refused to let him escape answering her in that way.
" Suppose I had not been connected with Lady Janet," she
persisted. " Suppose I had only been a good girl, with noth-
ing but my own merits to speak for me. What would your
mother have said then ?"
Horace still parried the question only to find the point of
it pressed home on him once more.
"Why do you ask?" he said.
"I ask to be answered," she rejoined. "Would your
mother have liked you to marry a poor girl, of no family
with nothing but her own virtues to speak for her ?"
Horace was fairly pressed back to the wall.
" If you must know," he replied, " my mother would have
refused to sanction such a marriage as that,"
" No matter how good the girl might have been?"
There was something defiant almost threatening ^in her
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 145
tone. Horace was, annoyed and he showed it when he
spoke.
" My mother would have respected the girl, without ceasing
to respect herself," he said. "My mother would have re-
membered what was due to the family name."
"And she would have said, No?"
" She would have said, No."
Ah I"
There was an undertone of angry contempt in the excla-
mation which made Horace start. "What is the matter?"
he asked.
"Nothing," she answered, and took up her embroidery
again. There he sat at her side, anxiously looking at her
his hope in the future centred in his marriage ! In a week
more, if she chose, she might enter that ancient family, of
which he had spoken so proudly, as his wife. " Oh 1" she
thought, " if I didn't love him ! if I had only his merciless
mother to think of !"
Uneasily conscious of some estrangement between them,
Horace spoke again. " Surely I have not ofEended you ?" he
said.
She turned toward him once more. The work dropped
unheeded on her lap. Her grand eyes softened into tender-
ness. A smile trembled sadly on her delicate lips. She laid
one hand caressingly on his shoulder. All the beauty of her
voice lent its charm to the next words that she said to him.
The woman's heart hungered in its misery for the comfort
that could only come from his lips.
" You would have loved me, Horace without stopping to
think of the family name ?"
The family name again ! How strangely she persisted in
coming back to that ! Horace looked at her without answer-
ing, trying vainly to fathom what was passing in her mind.
She took his hand, and wrung it hard ^as if she would
wring the answer out of him in that way.
146 THB NEW IfJLGDALEN.
"Tbu would have loved me?" she repeated.
The double spell of her voice and her touch was on him.
He answered, wannly, "Under any circumstances ! under any
name !"
She put one arm round his neck, and fixed her eyes on his.
" Is that true ?" she asked.
"True as the heaven above us !"
She drank in those few commonplace words with a greedy
delight. She forced him to repeat them in a new form.
" No matter who I might have been ? For myself alone?"
" For yourself alone."
She threw both arms round him, and laid her head pas-
sionately on his breast. " I love you I I love you ! ! I love
you 1 1 1" Her voice rose with hysterical vehemence at each
repetition of the words then suddenly sank to a low hoarse
cry of rage and despair. The sense of her true position to-
ward him revealed itself in all its horror as the confession of
her love escaped her lips. Her arras dropped from him ; she
flung herself back on the sofa-cushions, hiding her face in her
hands. " Oh, leave me !" she moaned, faintly. " Go ! go I"
Horace tried to wind his arm round her, and raise her.
She started to her feet, and waved him back from her with a
wild action of her hands, as if she was frightened of him.
"The wedding present!" she cried, seizing the first pretext
that occurred to her. " You offered to bring me your moth-
er's present. I am dying to see what it is. Go and get it !"
Horace tried to compose her. He might as well have tried
to compose the winds and the sea.
" Go !" she repeated, pressing one clinched hand on her
boHoni. I am not well. Talking excites me I am hyster-
ical ; I shall be better alone. Get me the present. Go!"
** Shall I send Lady Janet ? Shall I ring for your maid ?"
" Send for nobody ! ring for nobody ! K you love me-
loaje mo here by myself ! leave me instantly !"
" I shall see you when I come back ?"
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 141
"Yes! yes!"
There was no alternative but to obey her. Unwillingly
and forebodingly, Horace left the room.
She drew a deep breath of relief, and dropped into the
nearest chair. If Horace had staid a moment longer she
felt it, she knew it ^her head would have given way ; she
would have burst out before him with the terrible truth.
" Oh !'* she thought, pressing her cold hands on her burning
eyes, " if I could only cry, now there is nobody to see me I"
The room was empty : she had every reason for concluding
that she was alone. And yet at that very moment there
were ears that listened there were eyes waiting to see her.
Little by little the door behind her which faced the library
and led into the billiard-room was opened noiselessly from
without, by an inch at a time. As the opening was enlarged
a hand in a black glove, an arm in a black sleeve, appeared,
guiding the movement of the door. An interval of a mo-
ment passed, and the worn white face of Grace Roseberiy
showed itself stealthily, looking into the dining-room.
Her eyes brightened with vindictive pleasure as they dis-
covered Mercy sitting alone at the farther end of the room.
Inch by inch she opened the door more widely, took one step
forward, and checked herself. A sound, just audible at the
far end of the conservatory, had caught her ear.
She listened satisfied herself that she was not mistaken
and drawing back with a frown of displeasure, softly closed
the door again, so as to hide herself from view. The sound
that had disturbed her was the distant murmur of men's
voices (apparently two in number) talking together in low-
ered tones, at the garden entrance to the conservatory.
Who were the men ? and what would they do next ? They
might do one of two things : they might enter the drawing-
room, or they might withdraw again by way of the garden.
Kneeling behind the door, with her ear at the key-hole, Grace
Roseberry waited the event.
148 THB NBW MAQDALEK.
CHAPTER XVI.
THET MEET A6AIK.
Absoebed in herself, Mercy failed to notice the opening
door or to hear the mnrmnr of voices in the conservatory.
The one terrible necessity which had been present to her
mind at intervals for a week past was confronting her at that
moment. She owed to Orace Roseberry the tardy jostioe
of owning the truth. The longer her confession was delayed,
the more cmelly she was injuring the woman whom she had
robbed of her identity the friendless woman who had nei-
ther witnesses nor papers to produce, who was powerless to
right her own wrong. Keenly as she felt this, Mercy failed,
nevertheless, to conquer the horror that shook her when she
thought of the impending avowal. Day followed day, and
still she shrank from the unendurable ordeal of confession as
she was shrinking from it now !
Was it fear for herself that closed her lips ?
She trembled as any human being in her place must have
trembled at the bare idea of finding herself thrown back
again on the world, which had no place in it and no hope in
it for her. But she could have overcome that terror she
could have resigned herself to that doom.
No ! it was not the fear of the confession itself, or the fear
of the consequences which must follow it, that still held her
silent. The horror that daunted her was the horror of own-
ing to Horace and to Lady Janet that she had cheated them
out of their love.
Every day Lady Janet was kinder and kinder. Every day
Horace was fonder and fonder of her. How could she con-
fess to Lady Janet ? how could she own to Horace that she
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 149
had imposed upon him ? "I can't do it. They are so good
to me I can't do it !" In that hopeless way it had ended
during the seven days that had gone by. In that hopeless
way it ended again now.
The murmur of the two voices at the farther end of the
conservatory ceased. The billiard-room door opened again
slowly, by an inch at a time.
Mercy still kept her place, unconscious of the events that
were passing round her. Sinking under the hard stress laid
on it, her mind had drifted little by little into a new train of
thought. For the first time she found the courage to question
the future in a new way. Supposing her confession to have
been made, or supposing the woman whom she had personated
to have discovered the means of exposing the fraud, what ad-
vantage, she now asked herself, would Miss Roseberry derive
from Mercy Merrick's disgrace ?
Could Lady Janet transfer to the woman who was really
her relative by marriage the afEection which she had given to
the woman who had pretended to be her relative ? No ! All
the right in the world would not put the true Grace into the
false Grace's vacant place. The qualities by which Mercy had
won Lady Janet's love were the qualities which were Mercy's
own. Lady Janet could do rigid justice ^but hers was not
the heart to give itself to a stranger (and to give itself unre-
servedly) a second time. Grace Roseberry would be formally
acknowledged and there it would end.
Was there hope in this new view ?
Yes ! There was the false hope of making the inevitable
atonement by some other means than by the confession of
the fraud.
What had Grace Roseberry actually lost by the wrong
done to her ? She had lost the salary of Lady Janet's " com-
panion and reader." Say that she wanted money, Mercy had
her savings from the generous allowance made to her by Lady
7*
160 THB NEW MAGDALEX.
Janet; Mercy could offer money. Or say that she wanted
employment, Mercy^s interest with Lady Janet could offer
employment, could offer any thmg Grace might ask for^if she
would only come to terms.
Invigorated by the new hope, Mercy rose excitedly, weary
of inaction in the empty room. She, who but a few minutes
since had shuddered at the thought of their meeting again,
was now eager to devise a means of finding her way privately
to an interview with Grace. It should be done without loss
of time on that very day, if possible ; by the next day at
latest. She looked round her mechanically, pondering how
to reach the end in view. Her eyes rested by chance on the
door of the billiard-room.
Was it fancy ? or did she really see the door first open a
little, then suddenly and softly close again ?
Was it fancy ? or did she really hear, at the same moment^
a sound behind her as of persons speaking in the conservatory?
She paused ; and, looking back in that direction, listened in-
tently. The sound if she had really heard it was no longer
audible. She advanced toward the billiard-room, to set her
first doubt at rest. She stretched out her hand to open the
door, when the voices (recognizable now as the voices of two
men) caught her ear once more.
This time she was able to distinguish the words that were
spoken.
"Any further orders, sir?" inquired one of the men.
" Nothing more," replied the other.
Mercy started, and faintly flushed, as the second voice an-
swered the first. She stood irresolute close to the billiard-
room, hesitating what to do next.
After an interval the second voice made itself heard again,
advancing nearer to the dining-room; "Are you there, aunt?"
it asked, cautiously. There was a moment's pause. Then
the voice spoke for the third time, sounding louder and near-
er. "Are you there?" it reiterated; "I have something to
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 151
xell you." Mercy summoned her resolution, and answered,
" Lady Janet is not here. ' She turned as she spoke towai'd
the conservatory door, and confi'onted on the threshold Ju-
lian Gray.
They looked at one another without exchanging a word on
either side. The situation for widely different reasons was
equally embarrassing to both of them.
There as Julian saw her was the woman forbidden to
him, the woman whom he loved.
There as Mercy saw him was the man whom she dread-
ed, the man whose actions (as she interpreted them) proved
that he suspected her.
On the surface of it, the incidents which had marked their
first meeting were now exactly repeated, with the one differ-
ence that the impulse to withdraw this time appeared to be
on the man's side and not on the woman's. It was Mercy
who spoke first.
" Did you expect to find Lady Janet here ?" she asked, con-
strainedly.
He answered, on his part, more constrainedly still.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "Another time will do."
He drew back as he made the reply. She advanced des-
perately, with the deliberate intention of detaining him by
speaking again.
The attempt which he had made to withdraw, the constraint
in his manner when he had answered, had instantly confirmed
her in the false conviction that he, and he alone, had guessed
the truth ! If she was right if he had secretly made discov-
eries abroad which placed her entirely at his mercy the at-
tempt to induce Grace to consent to a compromise with her
would be manifestly useless. Her first and foremost interest
now was to find out how she really stood in the estimation of
Julian Gray. In a terror of suspense, that turned her cold
from head to foot, she stopped him on his way out, and spoke
to him with the piteous counterfeit of a smile.
152 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
^ Lady Janet is receiviDg some yisitors," Blie sud. *^ If yon
will wait here, she will be back directly.''
The effort of hiding her agitation from him had brought a
passing color into her cheeks. Worn and wasted as she was,
the spell of her beauty was strong enough to hold him agunst
his own will All he had to tell Lady Janet was that he had
met one of the gardeners in the conservatory, and had cau-
tioned him as weQ as the lodge-keeper. It would have been
easy to write this, and to send the note to his aunt on quit-
ting the house. For the sake of hb own peace of mind, for
the sake of his duty to Horace, he was doubly bound to make
the first polite excuse that occurred to him, and to leave her
as he had found her, alone in the room. He made the at-
tempt, and hesitated. Despising himself for doing it, he al-
lowed himself to look at her. Their eyes met. Jnliui step-
ped into the dining-room.
" If I am not in the way," he said, confusedly, " I will wait,
as you kindly propose."
She noticed his embaiTassment ; she saw that he was strong,
ly restraining himself from looking at her again. Her own
eyes dropped to the ground as she made the discovery. Her
speech failed her ; her heart throbbed faster and faster.
" If I look at him again " (was the thought in her mind) "I
shall fall at his feet and tell him all that I have done 1"
"If I look at her again" (was the thought in hia mind) "I
shall fall at her feet and own that I am in love with her !"
With downcast eyes he placed a chair for her. With
downcast eyes she bowed to hini and took it. A dead silence
followed. Never was any human misunderstanding more in-
tricately complete than the misunderstanding which had now
established itself between those two.
Mercy's work-basket was near her. She took it, and gain-
ed time for composing herself by pretending to arrange the
colored wools. He stood behind her chair, looking at the
graceful turn of her head, looking at the rich masses of her
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 153
hair. He reviled himself as the weakest of men, as the falsest
of friends, for still remaining near her and yet he remained.
The silence continued. The billiard - room door opened
again noiselessly. The face of the listening woman appeared
stealthily behind it.
At the same moment Mercy roused herself and spoke:
** Won^t you sit down ?" she said, softly, still not looking
round at him, still busy with her basket of wools.
He turned to get a chair turned so quickly that he saw
the billiard -room door move, as Grace Roseberry closed it
again.
"Is there any one in that room?" he asked, addressing
Mercy.
" I don't know," she answered. " I thought I saw the door
open and shut again a little while ago."
He advanced at once to look into the room. As he did so
Mercy dropped one of her balls of wool. He stopped to pick
it up for her ^then threw open the door and looked into the
billiard-room. It was empty.
Had some person been listening, and had that person re
treated in time to escape discovery? The open door of the
smoking-room showed that room also to be empty. A third
door was open the door of the side hall, leading into the
grounds. Julian closed and locked it, and returned to the
dining-room.
" I can only suppose," he said to Mercy, " that the billiard-
room door was not properly shut, and that the draught of air
from the hall must have moved it."
She accepted the explanation in silence. He was, to all ap-
pearance, not quite satisfied with it himself. For a moment
or two he looked about him uneasily. Then the old fascina-
tion fastened its hold on him again. Once more he looked
at the graceful turn of her head, at the rich masses of her
hair. The courage to put the critical question to him, now
that Bhe had lured him into remaining in the room^-^^^ %^^
154 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
a courage that failed her. She remained as busy as ever
with her work too busy to look at him ; too busy to speak
to him. The silence became unendurable. He broke it by
making a commonplace inquiry after her health.
^^ I am well enough to be ashamed of the anxiety I have
caused and the trouble I have given," she answered. " To-
day I have got down stairs for the first time. I am trying
to do a little work." She looked into the basket. The vari-
ous specimens of wool in it were partly in balls and partly in
loose skeins. The skeins were mixed and tangled. '^Hetie
is sad confusion !" she exclaimed, timidly, with a faint smila
" How am I to set it right again ?"
" Let me help you," said Julian.
" You !"
" Why not ?" he asked, with a momentary return of the
quaint humor which she remembered so well. "Ton forget
that I am a curate. Curates are privileged to make them-
selves useful to young ladies. Let me try."
He took a stool at her feet, and set himself to unravel one
of the tangled skeins. In a minute the wool was stretched
on his hands, and the loose end was ready for Mercy to wind.
There was something in the trivial action, and in the homely
attention that it implied, which in some degree quieted her
fear of him. She began to roll the wool ofE his hands into a
ball. Thus occupied, she said the daring words which were
to lead him little by little into betraying his suspicions, if he
did indeed suspect the truth.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 155
CHAPTER XVn.
THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.
"Toil were here when I fainted, were you not?" Mercy
began. "You must think me a sad coward, even for a
woman."
He shook his head. " I am far from thinking that," he re-
plied. " No courage could have sustained the shock which
fell on you. I don't wonder that you fainted. I don't won-
der that you have been ill."
She paused in rolling up the ball of wool. What did those
words of unexpected sympathy mean ? Was he laying a trap
for her ? Urged by that serious doubt, she questioned him
more boldly."
" Horace tells me you have been abroad," she said. " Did
you enjoy your holiday ?"
"It was no holiday. I went abroad because I thought it
right to make certain inquiries " He stopped there, unwill-
ing to return to a subject that was painful to her.
Her voice sank, her fingers trembled round the ball of
wool ; but she managed to go on.
" Did you arrive at any results ?" she asked.
"At no results worth mentioning."
The caution of that reply renewed her worst suspicions of
him. In sheer despair, she spoke out plainly.
" I want to know your opinion " she began.
" Gtently !" said Julian. " You are entangling the wool
again."
" I want to know your opinion of the person who so terri-
bly frightened me. Do you think her ^"
Del think her what ?"
15G TUB NEW MAGDALEN.
'^ Do you think her an adventuress ?"
(As she said those words the branches of a shrub in the
conservatory were noiselessly parted by a hand in a black
glove. The face of Grace lloseberry appeared dimly behind
the leaves. Undiscovered, she had escaped from the billiard-
room, and had stolen her way into the conservatory as the
safer hiding-place of the two. Behind the shrub she could
see as well as listen. Behind the shrub she waited as patient-
ly as ever.)
" I take a more merciful view," Juliaa answered. " I be-
lieve she is acting under a delusion. I don't blame her : I
pity her."
" You pity her?" As Mercy repeated the words, she tore
ofE Julian's hands the last few lengths of wool left, and threw
the impei*f ectly wound skein back into the basket. '^ Does
that mean," she resumed, abruptly, " that you believe her ?"
Julian rose from his seat, and looked at Mercy in astonish-
ment.
" Good heavens, Miss Roseberiy ! what put such an idea
as that into your head ?"
" I am little better than a stranger to you," she rejoined,
with an effort to assume a jesting tone. " You met that per-
son before you met with me. It is not so very far from pity-
ing her to believing her. How could I feel sure that you
might not suspect me ?"
" Suspect you /" he exclaimed. " You don't know how you
distress, how you shock mc. Suspect you ! The bare idea
of it never entered my mind. The man doesn't live who
trusts you more implicitly, who believes in you more devo-
tedly, than I do."
His eyes, his voice, his manner, all told her that those words
came from the heart. She contrasted his generous confidence
in her (the confidence of which she was unworthy) with her
ungracious distrust of him. Not only had she wronged Grace
Roseberry she had wronged Julian Gray. Could she de-
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 157
celve him as she had deceived the others ? Could she mean-
ly accept that implicit trust, that devoted belief? Never
had she felt the base submissions which her own imposture
condemned her to undergo with a loathing of them so over-
whelming as the loathing that she felt now. In horror of
herself, she turned her head aside in silence, and shrank from
meeting his eye. He noticed the movement, placing his ovm
interpretation on it. Advancing closer, he asked anxiously if
he had offended her.
" You don't know how your confidence touches me," she
said, without looking up. "You little think how keenly I
feel your kindness."
She checked herself abruptly. Her fine tact warned her
that she was speaking too warmly that the expression of her
gratitude might strike him as being strangely exaggerated.
She handed him her work-basket before he could speak again.
" Will you put it away for me ?" she asked, in her quieter
tones. " I don't feel able to work just now."
His back was turned on her for a moment, while ho placed
the basket on a side-table. In that moment her mind ad-
vanced at a bound from present to future. Accident might
one day put the true Grace in possession of the proofs that
she needed, and might reveal the false Grace to him in the
identity that was her own. What would he think of her
then ? Could she make him tell her without betraying her-
self ? She determined to try.
"Children are notoriously insatiable if you once answer
their questions, and women are nearly as bad," she said, when
Julian returned to her. " Will your patience hold out if I
go back for the third time to the person whom we have been
speaking of ?"
" Try me," he answered, with a smile.
" Suppose you had not taken your merciful view of her ?"
"Yes?"
"Suppose you believed that she was wickedly bent on
158 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
deceiving others for a purpose of her own ^would yoa not
shrink from such a woman in horror and disgust ?"
^' God forbid that I should shrink from any human crea-
ture I" he answered, earnestly, " Who among us has a right
to do that?"
She hardly dared trust herself to believe him. "You
would still pity her ?*' she persisted, " and still feel for her?"
" With aU mv heart."
" Oh, how good you are !"
He held up his hand in warning. The tones of his voice
deepened, the lustre of his eyes brightened. She had stirred
in the depths of that great heart the faith in which the man
lived the steady principle which guided his modest and
noble life.
" No !" he cried. " Don't say that ! Say that I try to love
my neighbor as myself. Who but a Pharisee can believe
that he is better than another ? The best among us today
may, but for the mercy of God, be the worst among us to-
morrow. The true Christian virtue is the virtue which never
despairs of a fellow-creature. The true Christian faith be-
lieves in Man as well as in God. Frail and fallen as we are,
we can rise on the wings of repentance from earth to heaven.
Humanity is sacred. Humanity has its immortal destiny.
Who shall dare say to man or woman, * There is no hope in
you ?' Who shall dare say the work is all vile, wheii that
work bears on it the stamp of the Creator's hand ?"
He turned away for a moment, struggling with the emo-
tion which she had roused in him.
Her eyes, as they followed him, lighted with a momentary
enthusiasm then sank wearily in the vain regret which comes
too late. Ah ! if he could have been her friend and her ad-
viser on the fatal day when she first turned her steps toward
Mablethorpe House! She sighed bitterly as the hopeless
aspiration wrung her heart. He heard the sigh ; and, turn-
ing again, looked at her with a new interest in his face.
THE NEW MAGDALEK. 159
" Miss Roseberry," he said.
She was still absorbed in the bitter memories of the past:
she failed to hear him.
" Miss Roseberry,'' he repeated, approaching her.
She looked up at him with a start.
** May I venture to ask you something ?" he said, gently.
She shrank at the question.
" Don't suppose I am speaking out of mere curiosity," he
went on. "And pray don't answer me unless you can answer
without betraying any confidence which may have been placed
in you."
" Confidence !" she repeated. " What confidence do you
mean?"
"It has just struck me that you might have felt more than
a common interest in the questions which you put to me a
moment since," he answered. "Were you by any chance
speaking of some unhappy woman not the person who
frightened you, of course but of some other woman whom
you know ?"
Her head sank slowly on her bosom. He had plainly no
suspicion that she had been speaking of herself : bis tone and
manner both answered for it that his belief in her was as
strong as ever. Still those last words made her tremble ; she
could not trust herself to reply to them.
He accepted the bending of her head as a reply.
"Are you interested in her ?" he asked next
She faintly answered this time. " Yes.'*
" Have you encouraged her ?"
" I have not dared to encourage her."
His face lit up suddenly with enthusiasm. " Go to her,"
he said, " and let me go with you and help you !"
The answer came faintly and mournfully. " She has sunk
too low for that !"
He interrupted her with a gesture of impatience.
^ What has she done ?" he asked.
160 THE NSW MAGDALEN.
'^ She has deceived basely deceived ^innocent people who
trusted her. She has wronged cruelly wronged another
woman."
For the first time Julian seated himself at her side. The
interest tliat was now roused in him was an interest above
reproach. He could speak to Mercy without restraint; he
could look at Mercy with a pure heart.
"You judge her very harshly," he said. "Do you know
how she may have been tried and tempted ?"
There was no answer.
" Tell me," he went on, " is the person whom she has in-
jured still living ?"
" Yes."
" If the person is still living, she may atone for the wrong.
The time may come when this sinner, too, may win our par-
don and deserve our respect. '
" Could you respect her ?" Mercy asked, sadly. ** Can such
a mind as yours understand what she has gone through ?"
A smile, kind and momentary, brightened his attentive
face.
"You forget my melancholy experience," he answered.
" Young as I am, I have seen more than most men of women
who have sinned and suffered. Even after the little that you
have told me, I think I can put myself in her place. I can
well understand, for instance, that she may have been tempted
beyond human resistance. Am I right ?"
" You are right."
" She may have had nobody near at the time to advise her,
to warn her, to save her. Is that true ?"
" It is true."
"Tempted and friendless, self abandoned to the evil im-
pulse of the moment, this woman may have committed herself
headlong to the act which she now vainly repents. She may
long to make atonement, and may not know how to begin.
All her energies may be crushed under the despair and horror
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 161
of herself, out of which the truest repentance grows. Is such
a woman as this all wicked, all vile ? I deny it ! She may
have a noble nature; and she may show it nobly yet. Give
her the opportunity she needs, and our poor fallen fellow-
creature may take her place again among the best of us
honored, blameless, happy, once more !"
Mercy's eyes, resting eagerly on him while he was speak-
ing, dropped again despondingly when he had done.
" There is no such future as that," she answered, " for the
woman whom I am thinking of. She has lost her opportu-
nity. She has done with hope."
Julian gravely considered with himself for a moment.
" Let us understand each other," he said. " She has com-
mitted an act of deception to the injury of another woman.
Was that what you told me ?"
Yes."
"And she has gained something to her own advantage by
the act?"
Yes."
"Is she threatened with discovery?"
" She is safe from discovery for the present, at least"
" Safe as long as she closes her lips ?"
"As long as she closes her lips."
" There is her opportunity !" cried Julian. " Her future is
before her. She has not done with hope !"
With clasped hands, in breathless suspense, Mercy looked
at that inspiriting face, and listened to those golden words.
"Explain yourself," she said. "Tell her, through me,
what she must do."
" Let her own the truth," answered Julian, " without the
base fear of discovery to drive her to it. Let her do justice
to the woman whom she has wronged, while that woman is
still powerless to expose her. Let her sacrifice every thing
that she has gained by the fraud to the sacred duty of atone-
ment If she can do that for conscience sake, and for pity's
162 THS NSW MAaDALEK,
sake to her own prejudice, to her own shame, to her own
loss then her repentance has nobly revealed the noble natare
that is in her ; then she is a woman to be trusted, respected,
beloved I If I saw the Pharisees and fanatics of this lower
earth passing her by in contempt,! would hold out my hand
to her before them all. I would say to her in her solitude
and her affliction, ' Rise, poor wounded heart ! Beautiful,
purified soul, Gk)d's angels rejoice over you I Take your
place among the noblest of Gkxd's creatures !^ "
In those last sentences he unconsciously repeated the lan-
guage in which he had spoken, years since, to his congrega-
tion in the chapel of the Refuge. With tenfold power and
tenfold persuasion they now found their way again to Mercy's
heart. Softly, suddenly, mysteriously, a change passed over
her. Her troubled face grew beautifully still. The shifting
light of terror and suspense vanished from her grand gray
eyes, and left in them the steady inner glow of a high and
pure resolve.
There was a moment of silence between them. They
both had need of silence. Julian was the first to speak
again.
" Have I satisfied you that her opportunity is still before
her?" he asked. "Do you feel, as I feel, that she has not
done with hope ?"
"You have satisfied me that the world holds no truer
friend to her than you," Mercy answered, gently and grate-
fully. "She shall prove herself worthy of your generous
confidence in her. She shall show you yet that you have not
spoken in vain."
Still inevitably failing to understand her, he led the way to
the door.
" Don't waste the precious time," he said. " Don't leave
her cruelly to herself. If you can't go to her, let me go as
your messenger, in your place."
She stopped him by a gesture. He took a step back into
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 163
the room, and paused, observing with surprise that she made
no attempt to move from the chair that she occupied.
" Stay here," she said to him, in suddenly altered tones.
"Pardon me," he rejoined, "I don't understand you."
" You will understand me directly. Give me a little time."
He still lingered near the door, with his eyes fixed inquir-
ingly on her. A man of a lower nature than his, or a man
believing in Mercy less devotedly than he believed, would
now have felt his first suspicion of her. Julian was as far as
ever from suspecting her, even yet.
"Do you wish to be alone?" he asked, considerately,
" Shall I leave you for a while and return again ?"
She looked up with a start of teiTor. " Leave me ?" she
repeated, and suddenly checked herself on the point of say-
ing more. Nearly half the length of the room divided them
from each other. The words which she was longing to say
were words that would never pass her lips unless she could
see some encouragement in his face. " No !" she cried out to
him, on a sudden, in her sore need, " don't leave me ! Come
back to me !"
He obeyed her in silence. In silence, on her side, she point-
ed to the chair near her. He took it. She looked at him, and
checked herself again ; resolute to make her terrible confession,
yet still hesitating how to begin. Her woman's instinct whis-
pered to her, " Find courage in his touch !" She said to him,
simply and artlessly said to him, " Give me encouragement.
Give me strength. Let me take your hand." He neither an-
swered nor moved. His mind seemed to have become sud-
denly preoccupied ; his eyes rested on her vacantly. He was
on the brink of discovering her secret ; in another instant he
would have found his way to the truth. In that instant, in-
viocently as his sister might have taken it, she took his hand.
The ^pft clasp of her fingers, clinging round his, roused his
senses, fired his passion for her, swept out of his mind the
pare aspirations which had filled it but the moment before,
8
164 THE NBW MAGDALEN.
paralyzed his perception when it was jast penetrating the
mystery of her distarbed manner and her strange words.
All the man in him trembled under the rapture of her touch.
But the thought of Horace was still present to him : his hand
lay passive in hers ; his eyes looked uneasily away from her.
She innocently strengthened her clasp of his hand. She
innocently said to him, "Don't look away from me. Tour
eyes give me courage."
His hand returned the pressure of hers. He tasted to the
full the delicious joy of looking at her. She had broken
down his last reserves of self-control. The thought of Hor-
ace, the sense of honor, became obscured in him. In a mo-
ment more he might have said the words which he would
have deplored for the rest of his life, if she had not stopped
him by speaking first. " I have more to say to you," she re-
sumed, abruptly, feeling the animating resolution to lay her
heart bare before him at last ; " more, far more, than I have
said yet. Generous, merciful friend, let me say it here /"
She attempted to throw herself on her knees at his feet.
He sprung from his seat and checked her, holding her with
both his hands, raising her as he rose himself. In the words
which had just escaped her, in the startling action which had
accompanied them, the truth burst on him. The guilty wom-
an she had spoken of was herself !
While she was almost in his arms, while her bosom was
just touching his, before a word more had passed his lips or
hers, the library door opened.
Lady Janet Roy entered the room.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 165
CHAPTER XVra.
THE SEABCH IN THE GROUNDS.
Gbace Rosebebby, Still listening in the conservatory, saw
the door open, and recognized the mistress of the hoase. She
softly drew back, and placed herself in safer hiding, beyond
the range of view from the dining-room.
Lady Janet advanced no farther than the threshold. She
stood there and looked at her nephew and her adopted daugh-
ter in stem silence.
Mercy dropped into the chair at her side. Julian kept his
place by her. His mind was still stunned by the discovery
that had burst on it ; his eyes still rested on her in mute ter-
ror of inquiry. He was as completely absorbed in the one
act of looking at her as if they had been still alone together
in the room.
Lady Janet was the first of the three who spoke. She ad-
dressed herself to her nephew.
" You were right, Mr. Julian Gray," she said, with her bit-
terest emphasis of tone and manner. "You ought. to have
found nobody in this room on your return but me. I detain
you no longer. You are free to leave my house."
Julian looked round at his aunt. She was pointing to the
door. In the excited state of his sensibilities at that moment,
the action stung him to the quick. He answered without his
customary consideration for his aunt's age and his aunt's po-
sition toward him.
" You apparently forget, Lady Janet, that you are not speak-
ing to one of your footmen," he said. " There are serious rea-
sons (of whidi you know nothing) for my remaining in your
166 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
house a little longer. You may rely upon my trespassing on
your hospitality as short a time as possible."
lie turned again to Mercy as he said those words, and sur-
prised her timidly looking up at him. In the instant when
their eyes met, the tumult of emotions struggling in him be-
came suddenly stilled. Sorrow for her compassionating
sorrow rose in the new calm and filled his heart. Now,
and now only, he could read in the wasted and noble face
how she had suffered. The pity which he had felt for the
unnamed woman grew to a tenfold pity for her. The faith
which he professed honestly professed in the better nature
of the unnamed woman strengthened into a tenfold faith in
her. He addressed himself again to his aunt, in a gentler
tone. "This lady," he resumed, "has something to say to
me in private which she has not said yet. That is my reason
and my apology for not immediately leaving the house."
Still under the impression of what she had seen on entering
the room, Lady Janet looked at him in angry amazement.
Was Julian actually ignoring Horace Holmcroft's claims, in
the presence of Horace Holmcroft's betrothed wife? She
appealed to her adopted daughter. " Grace !" she exclaimed,
" have you heard him ? Have you nothing to say ? Must I
remind you "
She stopped. For the first time in Lady Janet's experience
of her young companion, she found herself speaking to ears
that were deaf to her. Mercy was incapable of listening.
Julian's eyes had told her that Julian understood her at last !
Lady Janet turned to her nephew once more, and addressed
him in the hardest words that she had ever spoken to her sis-
ter's son.
" If you have any sense of decency," she said " I say noth-
ing of a sense of honor you will leave this house, and your
acquaintance with that lady will end here. Spare me your
protests and excuses ; I can place but one interpretation on
what I saw when I opened that door."
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 167
"You entirely misunderstand what you saw when you
opened that door," Julian answered, quietly.
" Perhaps I misunderstand the confession which you made
to me not an hour ago ?" retorted Lady Janet.
Julian cast a look of alarm at Mercy. " Don't speak of it !"
lie said, in a whisper. " She might hear you."
" Do you mean to say she doesn't know you are in love
with her ?"
" Thank God, she has not the faintest suspicion of it !"
There was no mistaking the earnestness with which he
made that reply. It proved his innocence as nothing else
could have proved it. Lady Janet drew back a step utterly
bewildered ; completely at a loss what to say or what to do
next.
The silence that followed was broken by a knock at the
library door. The man-servant with news, and bad news,
legibly written in his disturbed face and manner entered
the room. In the nervous irritability of the moment, Lady
Janet resented the servant's appearance as a positive offense
on the part of the harmless man. ** Who sent for you ?" sh^
asked, sharply. " What do you mean by interrupting us ?"
The servant made his excuses in an oddly bewildered
manner.
"I beg your ladyship's pardon. I wished to take the lib
erty I wanted to speak to Mr. Julian Gray."
What is it ?" asked JuUan.
The man looked uneasily at Lady Janet, hesitated, and
glanced at the door, as if he wished himself well out of the
room again.
" I hardly know if I can tell you, sir, before her ladyship,"
he answered.
Lady Janet instantly penetrated the secret of her servant's
hesitation.
" I know what has happened," she said : " that abominable
woman has found her way here again. Am I right ?"
168 THE NEW MAODALBir.
The man^s eyes helplessly consulted Julian.
" Yes, or no ?" cried Lady Janet, imperatively.
" Yes, my lady."
Julian at once assumed the duty of asking the necessary
questions.
" Where is she ?" he began.
'^ Somewhere in the grounds, as we suppose, sir.''
" Did you see her ?"
No, sir."
"Who saw her?"
" The lodge-keeper's wife."
This looked serious. The lodge-keeper's wife had been
present while Julian had given his instructions to her hus-
band. She was not likely to have mistaken the identity of
the person whom she had discovered.
" How long since ?" Julian asked next.
" Not very long, sir."
" Be more particular. Sow long ?"
" I didn't hear, sir."
" Did the lodge-keeper's wife speak to the person when she
saw her ?"
" No, sir : she didn't get the chance, as I understand it.
She is a stout woman, if you remember. The other was too
quick for her discovered her, sir, and (as the saying is) gave
her the slip."
" In what part of the grounds did this happen ?"
The servant pointed in the direction of the side hall. " In
that part, sir. Either in the Dutch garden or the shrubbery.
I am not sure which."
It was plain, by this time, that the man's information was
too imperfect to be practically of any use. Julian asked if
the lodge-keeper's wife was in the house.
" No, sir. Her husband has gone out to search the grounds
in her place, and she is minding the gate. They sent their
boy with the message. From what I can make out from the
THB NEW MA6DALBN. 169
lad, they would be thankful if they could get a word more of
advice from you, sir."
Julian reflected for a moment.
So far as he could estimate them, the probabilities were
that the stranger from Mannheim had already made her way
into the house ; that she had been listening in the billiard-
room ; that she had found time enough to escape him on his
approaching to open the door ; and that she was now (in the
Bervant's phrase) " somewhere in the grounds," after eluding
the pursuit of the lodge-keeper's wife.
The matter was serious. Any mistake in dealing with it
might lead to very painful results.
If Julian had correctly anticipated the nature of the con-
fession which Mercy had been on the point of addressing to
him, the person whom he had been the means of introducing
into the house was what she had vainly asserted herself to
be no other than the true Grace Roseberry.
Taking this for granted, it was of the utmost importance
that he should speak to Grace privately, before she commit-
ted herself to any rashly renewed assertion of her claims, and
before she could gain access to Lady Janet's adopted daugh-
ter. The landlady at her lodgings had already warned him
that the object which she held steadily in view was to find
her way to " Miss Roseberry " when Lady Janet was not pres-
ent to take her part, and when no gentlemen were at hand to
protect her. " Only let me meet her face to face " (she had
said), ^^ and I will make her confess herself the impostor that
she is !" As matters now stood, it was impossible to estimate
too seriously the mischief which might ensue from such a
meeting as this. Eveiy thing now depended on Julian's skill-
ful management of an exasperated woman ; and nobody, at
that moment, knew where the woman was.
In this position of affairs, as Julian understood it, there
seemed to be no other alternative than to make his inquiries
instantly at the lodge, and then to direct the search in person-
170 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
He looked toward Mercy^s chair as he arrived at this reso-
lution. It was at a crael sacrifice of his own anxieties and
his own wishes that he deferred continuing the conversation
with her from the critical point at which Lady Janet's ap-
pearance had interrupted it.
Mercy had risen while he had been questioning the servant.
The attention which she had failed to accord to what had
passed between his aunt and himself she had given to the im-
perfect statement which he had extracted from the man.
Her face plainly showed that she had listened as eagerly as
Lady Janet had listened ; with this remarkable difference be-
tween them, that Lady Janet looked frightened, and that Lady
Janet's companion showed no signs of alarm. She appeared
to be interested ; perhaps anxious nothing more.
Julian spoke a parting word to his aunt.
" Pray compose yourself," he said. " I have little doubt,
when I can learn the particulars, that we shall easily find this
person in the grounds. There is no reason to be uneasy. I
am going to superintend the search myself. I will return to
you as soon as possible."
Lady Janet listened absently. There was a certain expres-
sion in her eyes which suggested to Julian that her mind was
busy with some project of its own. He stopped as he pass-
ed Mercy, on his way out by the billiard-room door. It cost
him a hard effort to control the contending emotions which
the mere act of looking at her now awakened in him. His
heart beat fast, his voice sank low, as he spoke to her.
" You shall see me again," he said. " I never was more in
earnest in promising you ray truest help and sympathy than
I am now."
She understood him. Her bosom heaved painfully; her
eyes fell to the ground she made no reply. The tears rose
in Julian's eyes as he looked at her. He hurriedly left the
room.
When he turned to close the billiard-room door he heard
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 171
Lady Janet say, "I will be with you again in a moment,
Grace ; don't go away."
Interpreting these words as meaning that his aunt had
some business of her own to attend to in the library, he shut
the door. He had just advanced into the smoking-room be-
yond, when he thought he heard the door open again. He
turned round. Lady Janet had followed him.
" Do you wish to speak to me ?" he asked.
" I want something of you," Lady Janet answered, " be-
fore you go."
What is it ?"
" Your card."
My card ?"
" You have just told me not to be uneasy," said the old
lady. " I am uneasy, for all that. I don't feel as sure as
you do that this woman really is in the grounds. She may
be lurking somewhere in the house, and she may appear when
your back is turned. Remember what you told me."
Julian understood the allusion. He made no reply.
" The people at the police station close by," pursued Lady
Janet, '^ have instructions to send an experienced man, in plain
clothes, to any address indicated on your card the moment
they receive it. That is what you told me. For Grace's pro-
tection, I want your card before you leave us."
It was impossible for Julian to mention the reasons which
now forbade him to make use of his own precautions in the
very face of the emergency which they had been especially in-
tended, to meet. How could he declare the true Grace Rose-
berry to be mad ? How could he give the true Grace Rose-
berry into custody ? On the other hand, he had personally
pledged himself (when the circumstances appeared to require
it) to place the means of legal protection from insult and an-
noyance at his aunt's disposal. And now, there stood Lady
Janet, unaccustomed to have her wishes disregarded by any
body, with her hand extended, waiting for the card !
8*
172 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
What was to bo done ? The one way out of the difficolty
appeared to be to submit for the moment If he succeeded
in discovering the missing woman, he could easily take care
that she should be subjected to no needless indignity. If she
contrived to slip into the house in his absence, he could pro-
vide against that contingency by sending a second card pri-
vately to the police station, forbidding the officer to stir in
the affair until he had received further orders. Julian made
one stipulation only before he handed his card to his aunt.
" You will not use this, I am sure, without positive and
pressing necessity," he said. ^^ But I must make one condi-
tion. Promise me to keep my plan for communicating with
the police a strict secret "
"A strict secret from Grace?" interposed Lady Janet.
(Julian bowed.) "Do you suppose I want to frighten her?
Do you think I have not had anxiety enough about her al-
ready ? Of course I shall keep it a secret from Grace !"
Re-assured on this point, Julian hastened out into the
grounds. As soon as his back was turned Lady Janet lifted
the gold pencil-case which hung at her watch-chain, and wrote
on her nephew's card (for the information of the officer in
plain clothes), "Yow are wanted at Mablethorpe Housed
This done, she put the card into the old-fashioned pocket of
her dress, and returned to the dining-room.
Grace was waiting, in obedience to the instructions which
she had received.
For the first moment or two not a word was spoken on ei-
ther side. Now that she was alone with her adopted daugh-
ter, a certain coldness and hardness began to show itself in
Lady Janet's manner. The discovery that she had made on
opening the drawing-room door still hung on her mind. Ju-
lian had certainly convinced her that she had misinterpreted
what she had seen; but he had convinced her against her
will. She had found Mercy deeply agitated ; suspiciously si-
I
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 173
lent. Julian might be innocent, she admitted there was no
accounting for the vagaries of men. But the case of Mercy
was altogether different. Women did not find themselves in
the arms of men without knowing what they were about.
Acquitting Julian, Lady Janet declined to acquit Mercy.
" There is some secret understanding between them," thought
the old lady, ^' and she's to blame ; the women always are !"
Mercy still waited to be spoken to ; pale and quiet, silent
and submissive. Lady Janet ^in a highly uncertain state of
temper ^was obliged to begin.
" My dear !" she called out, sharply.
" Yes, Lady Janet."
" How much longer are you going to sit there with your
mouth shut up and your eyes on the carpet? Have you no
opinion to offer on this alarming state of things ? Yon heard
what the man said to Julian ^I saw you listening. Are you
horribly frightened?"
No, Lady Janet."
" Not even nervous ?"
" No, Lady Janet"
^^ Ha I I should hardly have given you credit for so much
courage after my experience of you a week ago. I congratu-
late you on your recovery."
" Thank you. Lady Janet."
" I am not so composed as you are. We were an excitable
set in my youth and I haven't got the better of it yet. I
feel nervous. Do you hear ? I feel nervous."
" I am sorry. Lady Janet."
" You are very good. Do you know what I am going to
do?"
No, Lady Janet."
^^ I am going to summon the household. When I say the
household, I mean the men; the women are no use. I am
afraid I fail to attract your attention ?"
"You have my best attention. Lady Janet."
174 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" You are very good again. I said the women were of no
use."
Yes, Lady Janet."
" I mean to place a man-servant on guard at every entrance
to the house. I am going to do it at once. Will you come
with me?"
" Can I be of any use if I go with your ladyship ?"
" You can't be of the slightest use. I give the orders in
this house not you. I had quite another motive in asking
you to come with me. I am more considerate of you than
you seem to think I don't like leaving you here by yourself.
Do you understand ?"
" I am much obliged to your ladyship. I don't mind being
left here by myself."
" You don't mind ? I never heard of such heroism in my
life out of a novel ! Suppose that crazy wretch should find
her way in here ?"
" She would not frighten me this time as she frightened rae
before."
" Not too fast, my young lady ! Suppose Good heavens 1
now I think of it, there is the conservatory. Suppose she
should be hidden in there ? Julian is searching the grounds.
Who is to search the conservatory ?"
" With your ladyship's permission, I will search the con-
servatory."
" You ! ! !"
" With your ladyship's permission."
" I can hardly believe ray own ears ! Well, ' Live and
learn' is an old proverb. I thought I knew your character.
This is a change !"
" You forget, Lady Janet (if I may venture to say so), that
the circumstances are changed. She took me by surprise on
the last occasion ; I am prepared for her now."
"Do you really feel as coolly as you speak?"
Yes, Lady Janet"
THE NEW MA6DAI.EN. 175
" Have your own way, then. I shall do one thing, howev-
er, in case of your having overestimated your own courage.
I shall place one of the men in the library. You will only
have to ring for him if any thing happens. He will give the
alarm and I shall act accordingly. I have my plan," said
her ladyship, comfortably conscious of the card in her pocket.
" Don't look as if you wanted to know what it is. I have no
intention of saying any thing about it except that it will do.
Once more, and for the last time do you stay here ? or do
you go with me ?"
" I stay here."
She respectfully opened the library door for Lady Janet's
departure as she made that reply. Throughout the interview
she had been carefully and coldly deferential; she had not
once lifted her eyes to Lady Janet's face. The conviction in
her that a few hours more would, in all probability, see her
dismissed from the house, had of necessity fettered every
word that she spoke had morally separated her already from
the injured mistress whose love she had won in disguise.
Utterly incapable of attributing the change in her young com-
panion to the true motive, Lady Janet left the room to sum-
mon her domestic garrison, thoroughly puzzled and (as a nec-
essary consequence of that condition) thoroughly displeased.
Still holding the library door in her hand, Mercy stood
watching with a heavy heart the progress of her benefactress
down the length of the room on the way to the front hall be-
yond. She had honestly loved and respected the warm-heart-
ed, quick-tempered old lady. A sharp pang of pain wrung her
as she thought of the time when even the chance utterance
of her name would become an unpardonable offense in Lady
Janet's house.
But there was no shrinking in her now from the ordeal of
the confession. She was not only anxious she was impatient
for Julian's return. Before she slept that night Julian's con-
fidence in her should be a confidence that she had deserved.
176 THE NEW MAODALEir.
** Let her own the truth, without the base fear of discovery
to drive her to it. Let her do justice to the woman whom
she has wronged, while that woman is still powerless to ex-
pose her. Let her sacrifice every thing that she has gained
by the fraud to the sacred duty of atonement. If she can do
that, then her repentance has nobly revealed the noble nature
that is in her; then she is a woman to be trusted, respected,
beloved." Those words were as vividly present to her as if
she still heard them falling from his lips. Those other words
which had followed them rang as grandly as ever in her ears:
" Rise, poor wounded heart ! Beautiful, purified soul, Gk)d's
angels rejoice over you ! Take your place among the noblest
of God's creatures !" Did the woman live who could hear
Julian Gray say that, and who could hesitate, at any sacrifice,
at any loss, to justify his belief in her ? " Oh !" she thought,
longingly, while her eyes followed Lady Janet to the end of
the library, " if your worst fears could only be realized ! If I
could only see Grace Roseberry in this room, how fearlessly I
could meet her now !"
She closed the library door, while Lady Janet opened the
other door which led into the hall.
As she turned and looked back into the dining-room a cry
of astonishment escaped her.
There as if in answer to the aspiration which was still in
her mind ; there, established in triumph on the chair that she
had just left sat Grace Roseberry, in sinister silence, wait-
ing for her.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 177
CHAPTER XIX.
THE EVIL GENIUS.
Recoyebing from the first overpowering sensation of snr-
pnse, Mercy rapidly advanced, eager to say her first penitent
words. Grace stopped her by a warning gesture of the hand.
** No nearer to me," she said, with a look of oontemptuous
command. " Stay where you are."
Mercy paused. Grace's reception had startled her. She
instinctively took the chair nearest to her to support hersdf.
Grace raised a warning hand for the second time, and issued
another command :
" I forbid you to be seated in my presence. You have no
right to be in this house at all. Remember, if you please,
who you are, and who I am."
The tone in which those words were spoken was an insult
in itself. Mercy suddenly lifted her head ; the angry answer
was on her lips. She checked it, and submitted in silence.
**I will be worthy of Julian Gray's confidence in me," she
thought, as she stood patiently by the chair. " I will bear
any thing from the woman whom I have wronged."
In silence the two faced each other; alone together, for
the first time since they had met in the French cottage. The
contrast between them was strange to see. Grace Roseberry,
seated in her chair, little and lean, with her dull white com-
plexion, with her hard, threatening face, with her shrunken
figure clad in its plain and poor black garments, looked like a
being of a lower sphere, compared with Mercy Merrick, stand-
ing erect in her rich silken dress ; her tall, shapely figure tow-
ering over the little creature before her; her grand head
bent in graceful submission; gentle, patient, beautiful; a
178 THE KBW MAGDALSN.
woman whom it was a privilege to look at and a distinction
to admire. If a stranger had been told that those two had
played their parts in a romance of real life that one of them
was really connected by the ties of relationship with Lady
Janet Roy, and that the other had successfully attempted to
personate her he would inevitably, if it had been left to him
to guess which was which, have picked out Grace as the
counterfeit and Mercy as the true woman.
Grace broke the silence. She had waited to open her lips
until she had eyed her conquered victim all over, with dis-
dainfully minute attention, from head to foot.
" Stand there. I like to look at you," she said, speaking
with a spiteful relish of her own cruel words. " It's no use
fainting this time. You have not got Lady Janet Roy to
bring you to. There are no gentlemen here to-day to pity
you and pick you up. Mercy Merrick, I have got you at last
Thank God, my turn has come ! You can't escape me now !"
All the littleness of heart and mind which had first shown
itself in Grace at the meeting in the cottage, when Mercy told
the sad story of her life, now revealed itself once more. The
woman who in those past times had felt no impulse to take a
suffering and a penitent fellow-creature by the hand was the
same woman who could feel no pity, who could spare no in-
solence of triumph, now. Mercy's sweet voice answered her
patiently, in low pleading tones.
" I have not avoided you," she said. " I would have gone
to you of my own accord if I had known that you were here.
It is my heart-felt wish to own that I have sinned against you,
and to make all the atonement that I can. I am too anxious
to deserve your forgiveness to have any fear of seeing you."
Conciliatory as the reply was, it was spoken with a simple
and modest dignity of manner which roused Grace Roseberry
to fury.
" How dare you speak to me as if you were my equal ?" she
burst out. " You stand there and answer me as if you had
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 179
yoar right and your place in this house. You audacious
woman ! I have my right and my place here and what am
I obliged to do ? I am obliged to hang about in the grounds,
and fly from the sight of the servants, and hide like a thief,
and wait like a beggar, and all for what ? For the chance of
having a word with you. Yes ! you, madam I with the air
of the Refuge and the dirt of the streets on you !"
Mercy's head sank lower ; her hand trembled as it held by
the back of the chair.
It was hard to bear the reiterated insults heaped on her,
but Julian's influence still made itself felt. She answered as
patiently as ever.
" If it is your pleasure to use hard words to me," she said,
** I have no right to resent them."
" You have no right to any thing !" Grace retorted. " You
have no right to the gown on your back. Look at yourself,
and look at Me !" Her eyes traveled with a tigerish stare
over Mercy's costly silk dress. " Who gave you that dress ?
who gave you those jewels ? I know ! Lady Janet gave
them to Grace Roseberry. Are you Grace Roseberry ? That
dress is mine. Take off your bracelets and your broach.
They were meant for me."
"You may soon have them, Miss Roseberry. They will
not be in my possession many hours longer."
" What do you mean ?"
" However badly you may use me, it is my duty to undo
the harm that I have done. I am bound to do you justice I
am determined to confess the truth."
Grace smiled scornfully.
" You confess !" she said. " Do you think I am fool
enough to believe that? You are one shameful brazen lie
from head to foot ! Are you the woman to give up your
silks and your jewels, and your position in this house, and to
go back to the Refuge of your own accord ? Not you not
you !"
180 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
A first faint flnsh of color showed itself, stealing slowlj
over Mercy's face ; bat she still held resolutely by the good
inflaence which Julian had left behind him. She could still
say to herself, "Any thing i-ather than disappoint Julian Gray."
Sustained by the courage which Tie had called to life in her,
she submitted to her martyrdom as bravely as ever. But
there was an ominous change in her now : she could only sub-
mit in silence ; she could no longer trust herself to answer.
The mute endurance in her face additionally exasperated
Grace Roseberry.
" Jow won't confess," she went on. "You have bad a
week to confess in, and you have not done it yet. No, no !
you are of the sort that cheat and lie to the last. I am glad
of it; I shall have the joy of exposing you myself before the
whole house. I shall be the blessed means of casting you
back on the streets. Oh ! it will be almost worth all I have
gone through to see you with a policeman's hand on your
arm, and the mob pointing at you and mocking you on your
way to jail !"
This time tlie sting struck deep ; the outrage was beyond
endurance. Mercy gave the woman who had again and again
deliberately insulted her a first warning.
" Miss Roseberry," she said, " I have borne without a mur-
mur the bitterest words you could say to me. Spare me any
more insults. Indeed, indeed, I am eager to restore you to
your just rights. With my whole heart I say it to you I
am resolved to confess every thing 1"
She spoke with trembling earnestness of tone. Grace list-
ened with a hard smile of incredulity and a hard look of
contempt.
" You are not far from the boll," she said ; " ring it."
Mercy looked at her in speechless surprise.
"You are a perfect picture of repentance you are dying
to own the truth," pursued the other, satirically. " Own it
before every body, and own it at once. C?ill in Lady Janet
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 181
jaU in Mr. Gray and Mr. Holmcrof t call in the servants.
Go down on your knees and acknowledge yourself an impos-
tor before them all. Then I will believe you not before."
"Don't, don't turn me against you!" cried Mercy, entreat
ingly.
"What do I care whether you are against me or not?"
** Don't for your own sake don't go on provoking me
much longer !"
"For my own sake? You insolent creature! Do you
mean to threaten me ?"
With a last desperate effort, her heart beating faster and
faster, the blood burning hotter and hotter in her cheeks,
Mercy still controlled herself.
" Have some compassion on me !" she pleaded. " Badly as
I have behaved to you, I am still a woman like yourself. I
can't face the shame of acknowledging what I have done be^
fore the whole house. Lady Janet treats me like a daughter ;
Mr. Holmcroft has engaged himself to marry me. I can't
tell Lady Janet and Mr. Holmcroft to their faces that I have
cheated them out of their love. But they shall know it, for
all that. I can, and will, before I rest to-night, tell the whole
truth to Mr. Julian Gray."
Grace burst out laughing. "Aha!" she exclaimed, with a
cynical outburst of gayety. "Now we have come to it at
last !"
" Take care !" said Mercy. " Take care !"
" Mr. Julian Gray ! I was behind the billiard-room door
I saw you coax Mr. Julian Gray to come in! Confession
loses all its horrors, and becomes quite a luxury, with Mr.
Julian Gray !"
" No more, Miss Roseberry ! no more ! For God's sake,
don't put me beside myself ! You have tortured me enough
already."
" You haven't been on the streets for nothing. You are a
woman with resources ; you know the value of having two
182 THB NBW HA6DALBN.
strings to your bow. If Mr. Holmcroft fails yon, you havte
got Mr. Julian Gray. Ah ! you sicken me. J^U see that
Mr. Holmcroft's eyes are opened ; he shall know what a wom-
an he might have married but for Me "
She checked herself; the next refinement of insult remain-
ed suspended on her lips.
The woman whom she had outraged suddenly advanced on
her. Her eyes, staring helplessly upward, saw Mercy Mer-
rick's face, white with the terrible anger which drives the
blood back on the heart, bending threateningly over her.
"*You will see that Mr. Holmcroft's eyes are opened,'"
Mercy slowly repeated ; " * he shall know what a woman he
might have married but for you !' "
She paused, and followed those words by a question which
struck a creeping terror through Grace Roseberry, from the
hair of her head to the soles of her feet :
''Who are you?''
The suppressed fury of look and tone which accompanied
that question told, as no violence could have told it, that the
limits of Mercy's endurance had been found at last. In the
guardian angel's absence the evil genius had done its evil
work. The better nature which Julian Gray had brought to
life sank, poisoned by the vile venom of a woman's spiteful
tongue. An easy and a terrible means of avenging the out-
rages heaped on her was within Mercy's reach, if she chose to
take it. In the frenzy of her indignation she never hesitated
she took it.
" \VTio are you ?" she asked for the second time.
Grace roused herself and attempted to speak. Mercy
stopped her with a scornful gesture of her hand.
" I remember !" she went on, with the same fiercely sup-
pressed rage. "You are the madwoman from the German
hospital who came here a week ago. I am not afraid of you
this time. Sit down and rest yourself, Mercy Merrick."
Deliberately giving her that name to her face, Mercy turned
THE NEW MAGDALEX. 183
from her and took the chair which Grace had forbidden her to
occupy when the interview began. Grace started to her feet.
" What does this mean ?" she asked.
" It means," answered Mercy, contemptuously, " that I re-
call every word I said to you just now. It means that I am
resolved to keep my place in this house."
"Are you out of your senses ?"
" You are not far from the bell. Ring it. Do what you
asked me to do. Call in the whole household, and ask them
which of us is mad ^you or I."
** Mercy Merrick ! you shall repent this to the last hour of
your life !"
Mercy rose again, and fixed her flashing eyes on the woman
who still defied her.
" I have had enough of you !" she said. " Leave the house
while you can leave it. Stay here, and I will send for Lady
Janet Roy."
" You can't send for her ! You daren't send for her 1"
"I can and I dare. You have not a shadow of a proof
against me. I have got the papers ; I am in possession of
the place; I have established myself in Lady Janet's confi-
dence. I mean to deserve your opinion of me I will keep
my dresses and my jewels and my position in the house. I
deny that I have done wrong. Society has used me cruelly ;
I owe nothing to Society. I have a right to take any adv.an
tage of it if I can. I deny that I have injured you. How
was I to know that you would come to life again ? Have
I degraded your name and your character? I have done
honor to both. I have won eveiy body's liking and every
body's respect. Do you think Lady Janet would have loved
you as she loves me ? Not she ! I tell you to your face I
have filled the false position more creditably than you could
have filled the true one, and I mean to keep it. I won't give
up your name; I won't restore your character! Do your
worst; I defy you !"
184 THX NSW MAGDAUUr.
She poared ont those reckless words in one headlong flow
which defied interraption. There was no answering her un-
til she was too breathless to say more. Grace seized her op-
portanity the moment it was within her reach.
" You defy me ?" she returned, resolutely. " You won't
defy me long. I have written to Canada. My friends will
speak for me."
" What of it, if they do ? Your friends are strangers here.
I am Lady Janet's adopted daughter. Do you think she will
believe your friends ? She will believe me. She will bum
their letters if they write. She will forbid the house to them
if they come. I shall be Mrs. Horace Holmcroft in a week's
time. Who can shake my position? Who can injure
Me?"
" Wait a little. You forget the matron at the Refuge."
"Find her, if you can. I never told you her name. 1
never told you where the Refuge was."
" I will advertise your name, and find the matron in that
way."
"Advertise in eveiy newspaper in London. Do you think
I gave a stranger like you the name I really bore in the Ref-
uge ? I gave you the name I assumed when I left England.
No such person as Mercy Merrick is known to the matron.
No such person is known to Mr. Holmcroft. He saw me at
the French cottage while you were senseless- on the bed. I
had my gray cloak on ; neither he nor any of them saw me
in my nurse's dress. Inquiries have been made about me on
the Continent and (I happen to know from the person who
made them) with no result. I am safe in your place ; I am
known by your name. I am Grace Roseberry ; and you are
Mercy Merrick. Disprove it if you can !"
Summing up the unassailable security of her false position
in those closing words, Mercy pointed significantly to the
billiard-room door.
" You were hiding there, by your own confession," she said.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 185
" You know your way out by that door. Will you leave the
room ?"
" I won't stir a step !"
Mercy walked to a side-table, and struck the bell placed
on it.
At the same moment the billiard-room door opened. Ju-
lian Gray appeared returning from his unsuccessful search
in the grounds.
He had barely crossed the threshold before the library door
was thrown open next by the servant posted in the room.
The man drew back respectfully, and gave admission to Lady
Janet Roy. She was followed by Horace Holmcrof t with his
mother's wedding present to Mercy in his hand.
CHAPTER XX.
THE POLICEMAN IN PLAIN CLOTHES.
Julian looked round the room, and stopped at the door
which he bad just opened.
His eyes rested first on Mercy, next on Grace.
The disturbed faces of both the women told him but too
plainly that the disaster which he had dreaded had actually
happened. They had met without any third person to inter-
fere between them. To what extremities the hostile inter-
view might have led it was impossible for him to guess. In
his aunt's presence he could only wait his opportunity of
speaking to Mercy, and be ready to interpose if any thing
was ignorantly done which might give just cause of offense
to Grace.
Lady Janet's course of action on entering the dining-room
was in perfect harmony with Lady Janet's character.
Instantly discovering the intruder, she looked sharply at
Mercy. "What did I tell you?" she asked. "Are you
frightened ? No I not in the least frightened ! Wonderful 1"
186 THB NBW MAGDALEN.
She turned to the servant. ^^ Wait in the library ; I may
want you again.'' She looked at Julian. ^^ Leave it all to
me ; I can manage it." She made a sign to Horace. ^^ Stay
where you are, and hold your tongue." Having now said all
that was nccessai*y to every one else, she advanced to the
part of the room in which Grace was standing, with lowering
brows and firmly shut lips, defiant of eveiy body.
" I have no desire to ofEend you, or to act harshly toward
you," her ladyship began, very quietly. " I only suggest that
your visits to my house can not possibly lead to any satisfac-
tory result. I hope you will not oblige me to say any harder
words than these I hope you will understand that I Mrish
you to withdraw."
The order of dismissal could hardly have been issued with
more humane consideration for the supposed mental infirmity
of the person to whom it was addressed. Grace instantly re-
sisted it in the plainest possible terms.
" In justice to my father's memory and in justice to my-
self," she answered, " I insist on a hearing. I refuse to with-
draw." She deliberately took a chair and seated herself in the
presence of the mistress of the house.
Lady Janet waited a moment steadily controlling her
temper. In the interval of silence Julian seized the opportu-
nity of remonstrating with Grace.
" Is this what you promised me ?" he asked, gently. " You
gave me your word that you would not return to Mable-
thorpe House."
Before he could say more Lady Janet had got her temper
under command. She began her answer to Grace by point-
ing with a peremptory forefinger to the library door.
" If you have not made up your mind to take my advice by
the time I have walked back to that door," she said, " I will
put it out of your power to set me at defiance. I am used to
be obeyed, and I will be obeyed. You force me to use hard
words. I warn you before it is too late. Go !"
THE NEW MA6DALBX. 187
She returned slowly toward the library. Julian attempted
to interfere with another word of remonstrance. His aunt
stopped him by a gesture which said, plainly, " I insist on
acting for myself." He looked next at Mercy. Would she
remain passive ? Yes. She never lifted her head ; she never
moved from the place in which she was standing apai*t from
the rest. Horace himself tried to attract her attention, and
tried in vain.
Arrived at the library door, Lady Janet looked over her
shoulder at the little immovable black figure in the chair.
" Will you go ?" she asked, for the last time.
Grace started up angrily from her seat, and fixed her viper-
ish eyes on Mercy.
"I won't be turned out of your ladyship's house in the
presence of that impostor," she said. " I may yield to force,
but I will yield to nothing else. I insist on my right to the
place that she has stolen from me. It's no use scolding me,"
she added, turning doggedly to Julian. "As long as that
woman is here, under my name I can't and won't keep away
from the house. I warn her, in your presence, that I have
written to my friends in Canada 1 I dare her before you all
to deny that she is the outcast and adventuress, Mercy Mer-
rick !"
The challenge forced Mercy to take part in the proceedings,
in her own defense. She had pledged herself to meet and
defy Grace Roseberry on her own ground. She attempted to
speak Horace stopped her.
*'You degrade yourself if you answer her," he said.
** Take my arm, and let us leave the room."
" Yes ! Take her out !" cried Grace. " She may well be
ashamed to face an honest woman. It's her place to leave
the room ^not mine I"
Mercy drew her hand out of Horace's arm. " I decline to
leave the room," she said, quietly.
Horace still tried to persuade her to withdraw. " I can't
9
188 THB NBW MAGDALEN.
bear to hear you instilted/' he rejoined. "The woman of-
fends me, though I know she is not responsible for what she
says."
"Nobody's endurance will be tried much longer," said
Lady Janet. She glanced at Julian, and taking from her
pocket the card which he had given to her, opened the libra-
ry door.
" Go to the police station," she said to the servant in an
undertone, "and give that card to the inspector on duty.
Tell him there is not a moment to lose."
" Stop !" said Julian, before his aunt could close the door
again.
" Stop ?" repeated Lady Janet, sharply. " I have given the
man his orders. What do you mean ?"
" Before you send the card I wish to say a word in private
to this lady," replied Julian, indicating Grace. " When that
is done," he continued, approaching Mercy, and pointedly ad-
dressing himself to her, "I shall have a request to make I
shall ask you to give me an opportunity of speaking to you
without interruption."
His tone pointed the allusion. Mercy shrank from looking
at him. The signs of painful agitation began to show them-
selves in her shifting color and her uneasy silence. Housed
by Julian's significantly distant reference to what had passed
between them, her better impulses were struggling already to
recover their influence over her. She might, at that critical
moment, have yielded to the promptings of her own nobler
nature she might have risen superior to the galling remem-
brance of the insults that had been heaped upon her ii
Grace's malice had not seen in her hesitation a means of refer-
ring offensively once again to her interview with Julian Gray.
" Pray don't think twice about trusting him alone with me,"
she said, with a sardonic affectation of politeness. '^-Tam not
interested in making a eonquest of Mr. Julian Gray."
The jealous distrust in Horace (already awakened by Ju-
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 189
lian's request) now attempted to assert itself openly. Before
he could speak, Mercy's indignation had dictated Mercy's an-
swer,
" I am much obliged to you, Mr. Gray," she said, addressing
Julian (but still not raising her eyes to his). " I have noth-
ing more to say. There is no need for me to trouble you
again."
In those rash words she recalled the confession to which
she stood pledged. In those rash words she committed her-
self to keeping the position that she had usurped, in the face
of the woman whom she had deprived of it !
Horace was silenced, but not satisfied. He saw Julian's
eyes fixed in sad and searching attention on Mercy's face
while she was speaking. He heard Julian sigh to himself
when she had done. He observed Julian after a moment's
serious consideration, and a moment's glance backward at the
stranger in the poor black clothes lift his head with the air
of a man who had taken a sudden resolution.
" Bring me that card directly," he said to the servant. His
tone announced that he was not to be trifled with. The man
obeyed.
Without answering Lady Janet who still peremptorily in-
sisted on her right to act for herself Julian took the pencil
from his pocket-book and added his signature to the writing
already inscribed on the card. When he had handed it back
to the servant he made his apologies to his aunt.
" Pardon me for venturing to interfere," he said. " There
is a serious reason for what I have done, which I will explain
to you at a fitter time. In the mean while I ofEer no further
obstruction to the course which you propose taking. On the
contrary, I have just assisted you in gaining the end that you
have in view."
As he said that he held up the pencil with which he had
signed his name.
Lady Janet^ naturally perplexed, and (with some reason,
190 THE NEW MAGDALEX.
perhaps) offended as well, made no answer. She waved her
hand to the servant, and sent him away with the card.
There was silence in the room. The eyes of all the persons
present turned more or less anxiously on Julian. Mercy was
vaguely surprised and alarmed. Horace, like Lady Janet, felt
offended, without clearly knowing why. Even Grace Rose^
berry herself was subdued by her own presentiment of some
coming interference for which she was completely unprepared.
Julian's words and actions, from the moment when he had
written on the card, were involved in a mystery to which not
one of the persons round him held the clue.
The motive which had animated his conduct may, neverthe-
less, be descnbed in two words : Julian still held to his faith
in the inbred nobility of Mercy's nature.
He had inferred, with little difficulty, from the language
which Grace had used toward Mercy in his presence, that the
injured woman must have taken pitiless advantage of her po-
sition at the interview which he had interrupted. Instead of
appealing to Mercy's sympathies and Mercy's sense of right
instead of accepting the expression of her sincere contrition,
and encouraging her to make the completest and the speed-
iest atonement Grace had evidently outraged and insulted
her. As a necessary result, her endurance had given way
under her own sense of intolerable severity and intolerable
wrong.
The remedy for the mischief thus done was, as Julian had
first seen it, to speak privately with Grace, to soothe her by
owning that his opinion of the justice of her claims had un-
dergone a change in her favor, and then to persuade her, in
her own interests, to let him carry to Mercy such expressions
of apology and regret as might lead to a friendly understand-
ing between them.
With those motives, he had made his request to be permit-
ted to speak separately to the one iind the other. The scene
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 191
that had followed, the new insult offered by Grace, and the
answer which it had wrung from Mercy, had convinced him
that no such interference as he had contemplated would have
the slightest prospect of success.
The one remedy now left to try was the desperate remedy
of letting things take their course, and trusting implicitly to
Mercy's better nature for the result.
Let her see the police officer in plain clothes enter the room.
Let her understand clearly what the result of his interference
would be. Let her confront the alteriiative of consigning
Grace Roseberry to a mad-house or of confessing the truth r.
and what would happen ? If Julian's confidence in her was a
confidence soundly placed, she would nobly pardon the out-
rages that had been heaped upon her, and she would do jus-
tice to the woman whom she had wronged.
If, on the other hand, his belief in her was nothing better
than the blind belief of an infatuated man if she faced the
alternative and persisted in asserting her assumed identity
what then ?
Julian's faith in Mercy refused to let that darker side of
the question find a place in his thoughts. It rested entirely
with him to bring the officer into the house. He had pre-
vented Lady Janet from making any mischievous use of his
card by sending to the police station and warning them to
attend to no message which they might receive unless the
card produced bore his signature. Knowing the responsibil-
ity that he was taking on himself knowing that Mercy had
made no confession to him to which it was possible to appeal
he had signed his name without an instant's hesitation:
and there he stood now, looking at the woman whose better
nature he was determined to vindicate, the only calm person
in the room.
Horace's jealousy saw something suspiciously suggestive
of a private understanding in Julian's earnest attention and
)
192 THIB NEW KAGDALKN.
in Mercy^s downcast face. Having no excuse for open inter-
ference, he made an effort to part them.
"You spoke just now," he said to Julian, "of wishing to
say a word in private to that person.'' (He pointed to Grace.)
" Shall we retire, or will you take her into the library ?"
" I refuse to have any thing to say to him," Grace burst
out, before Julian could answer. " I happen to know that he
is the last person to do me justice. JETe has been effectually
hoodwinked. If I speak to any body privately, it ought to
be to you. You have the greatest interest of any of them in
finding out the truth."
" What do you mean ?"
" Do you want to marry an outcast from the streets?'*
Horace took one step forward toward her. There was a
look in his face which plainly betrayed that he was capable
of turning her out of the house with his own hands. Lady
Janet stopped him.
" You were right in suggesting just now that Grace had
better leave the room," she said. " Let us all three go. Ju-
lian will remain here and give the man his directions when
he arrives. Come."
No. By a strange contradiction it was Horace himself
who now interfered to prevent Mercy from leaving the room.
In the heat of his indignation he lost all sense of his own dig-
nity; he descended to the level of a woman whose intellect
he believed to be deranged. To the surprise of every one
present, he stepped back and took from the table a jewel-case
which he had placed there when he came into the room. It
was the wedding present from his mother which he had
brought to his betrothed wife. His outraged self-esteem
seized the opportunity of vindicating Mercy by a public be-
stowal of the gift.
" Wait !" he called out, sternly. " That wretch shall have
her answer. She has sense enough to see, and sense enough
to hear. Let her see and hear !"
"The new MAGDALEN. 193
He opened the jewel-case, and took from it a magnificent
pearl necklace in an antique setting.
" Grace," he said, with his highest distinction of manner,
"my mother sends you her love and her congi\itulations on
our approaching marriage. She begs you to accept, as part
of your bridal dress, these pearls. She was married in them
herself. They have been in our family for centuries. As
one of the family, honored and beloved, my mother offers
them to my wife."
He lifted the necklace to clasp it round Mercy's neck.
Julian watched her in breathless suspense. Would she
sustain the ordeal through which Horace had innocently con-
demned her to pass ?
Yes ! In the insolent presence of Grace Roseberry, what
was there now that she could not sustain? Her pride was
in arms. Her lovely eyes lighted up as only a woman's eyes
can light up when they see jewelry. Her grand head bent
gracefully to receive the necklace. Her face warmed into col-
or; her beauty rallied its charms. Her triumph over Grace
Roseberry was complete ! Julian's head sank. For one sad
moment he secretly asked himself the question, " Have I been
mistaken in her?"
Horace arrayed her in the pearls.
" Your husband puts these pearls on your neck, love," he
said, proudly, and paused to look at her. " Now," he added,
with a contemptuous backward glance at Grace, " we may go
into the library. She has seen, and she has heard."
He believed that he had silenced her. He had simply fur-
nished her sharp tongue with a new sting.
" You will hear, and you will see, when my proofs come
from Canada," she retorted. " You will hear that your wife
has stolen my name and my character ! You will see your
wife disnfissed from this house !"
Mercy turned on her with an uncontrollable outburst of
passion.
194 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" You are mad !" she cried.
Lady Janet caaght the electric infection of anger in the air
of the room. She too turned on Grace. She too said it :
" You are mad !"
Horace followed Lady Janet. He was beside himself. He
fixed his pitiless eyes on Grace, and echoed the contagions
words :
" You are mad !"
She was silenced, she was daunted at last. The treble ac-
cusation revealed to her, for the first time, the frightful sus-
picion to which she had exposed herself. She shrank back,
with a low cry of horror, and struck against a chair. She
would have fallen if Julian had not sprung forward and
caught her.
Lady Janet led the way into the library. She opened the
door started and suddenly stepped aside, so as to leave
the entrance free.
A man appeared in the open door- way.
He was not a gentleman ; he was not a workman ; he was
not a servant. He was vilely dressed, in glossy black broad-
cloth. His frock-coat hung on him instead of fitting him.
His waistcoat was too short and too tight over the chest.
His trowsers were a pair of shapeless black bags. His gloves
were too large for him. His highly-polished boots creaked
detestably whenever he moved. He had odiously watchful
eyes eyes that looked skilled in peeping through key-holes.
His large ears, set forward like the ears of a monkey, pleaded
guilty to meanly listening behind other people's doors. His
manner was quietly confidential when he spoke, impenetrably
self-possessed when he was silent. A lurking air of secret
service enveloped the fellow, like an atmosphere of his own,
from head to foot. He looked all round the magnificent
room without betraying either surprise or admiraflon. He
closely investigated every person in it with one glance of his
cunningly watchful eyes. Making his bow to Lady Janet, he
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 195
silently showed her, as his introduction, the card that had
summoned him. And then he stood at ease, self-revealed in
his own sinister identity a police officer in plain clothes.
Nobody spoke to him. Every body shrank inwardly as if
a reptile had crawled into the room.
He looked backward and forward, perfectly unembarrassed,
between Julian and Horace.
" Is Mr. Julian Gray here ?" he asked.
Julian led Grace to a seat. Her eyes were fixed on the
man. She trembled she whispered, " Who is he ?" Julian
spoke to the police officer without answering her.
"Wait there," he said, pointing to a chair in the most
distant corner of the room. " I will speak to you directly."
The man advanced to the chair, marching to the discord
of his creaking boots. He privately valued the carpet at so
much a yard as he walked over it. He privately valued the
chair at so much the dozen as he sat down on it. He was
quite at his ease : it was no matter to him whether he waited
and did nothing, or whether he pried into the private char-
acter of every one in the room, as long as he was paid for it.
Even Lady Janet's resolution to act for herself was not
proof against the appearance of the policeman in plain clothes.
She left it to her nephew to take the lead. Julian glanced
at Mercy before he stirred further in the matter. He alone
knew that the end rested now not with him, but with her.
She felt his eye on her while her own eyes were looking at
the man. She turned her head hesitated and suddenly ap-
proached Julian. Like Grace Roseberry, she was trembling.
Like Grace Roseberry, she whispered, " Who is he?"
Julian told her plainly who he was.
"Why is he here?"
" Cap't you guess?"
No I"
Horace left Lady Janet, and joined Mercy and Julian ^im*
patient of the private colloquy between them.
9*
196 THE NBW MAGDALBN.
"Am I in the way ?" he inquired.
Julian drew back a little, understanding Horace perfectly.
He looked round at Grace. Nearly the whole length of the
spacious room divided them from the place in which she was
sitting. She had never moved since he had placed her in a
chair. The direst of all terrors was in possession of her
terror of the unknown. There was no fear of her interfering,
and no fear of her hearing what they said so long as they
were careful to speak in guarded tones. Julian set the ex-
ample by lowering his voice.
"Ask Horace why the police officer is here?" he said to
Mercy.
She put the question directly. " Why is he here ?"
Horace looked across the room at Grace, and answered,
** He is here to relieve us of that woman."
" Do you mean that he will take her away ?"
" Yes."
" Where will he take her to ?"
" To the police station."
Mercy started, and looked at Julian. He was still watch-
ing the slightest changes in her face. She looked back again
at Horace.
"To the police station !" she repeated. "What for?"
" How can you ask the question ?" said Horace, irritably.
" To be placed under restraint, of course."
" Do you mean prison ?"
" I mean an asylum."
Again Mercy turned to Julian. There was horror now, as
well as surprise, in her face. " Oh !" she said to him, " Hor-
ace is surely wrong ? It can't be ?"
Julian left it to Horace to answer. Every faculty in him
seemed to be still absorbed in watching Mercy's face. She
was compelled to address herself to Horace once more.
"What sort of asylum?" she asked. "You don't surely
mean a mad-house ?"
THE NEW MAGDALEX. 197
" I do," he rejoined. " The work-house first, perhaps and
then the mad-house. What is there to surprise you in that ?
You yourself told her to her face she was mad. ^ Good heav-
ens ! how pale you are ! What is the matter ?'.
She turned to Julian for the third time. The terrible al-
ternative that was oflEered to her had showed itself at last,
without reserve or disguise. Restore the identity that you
have stolen, or shut her up in a mad-house it rests with you
to choose ! In that form the situation shaped itself in her
mind. She chose on the instant. Before she opened her lips
the higher nature in her spoke to Julian, in her eyes. The
steady inner light that he had seen in them once already shone
in them again, brighter and purer than before. The con-
science that he had fortified, the soul that he had saved,
looked at him and said. Doubt us no more I
" Send that man out of the house."
Those were her first words. She spoke (pointing to the
police officer) in clear, ringing, resolute tones, audible in the
remotest comer of the room.
Julian's hand stole unobserved to hers, and told her, in its
momentary pressure, to count on his brotherly sympathy and
help. All the other persons in the room looked at her in
speechless surprise. Grace rose from her chair. Even the
man in plain clothes started to his feet. Lady Janet (hurried-
ly joining Horace, and fully sharing his perplexity and alarm)
took Mercy impulsively by the arm, and shook it, as if to
rouse her to a sense of what she was doing. Mercy held firm ;
Mercy resolutely repeated what she had said: "Send that
man out of the house."
Lady Janet lost all her patience with her. "What has
come to you ?" she asked, sternly. " Do you know what you
are saying ? The man is here in your interest, as well as in
mine ; the man is here to spare you, as well as me, further
annoyance and insult. And you insist ^insist, in my presence
on his being sent away ! What does it mean ?"
198 THE NEW MAGDAUEX.
'^ You shall know what it means, Lady Janet, in half an
hour. I don't insist I only reiterate my entreaty. Let the
man be sent away.''
Julian stepped aside (with his aunt's eyes angrily following
him) and spoke to the police officer. ^^ Go back to the sta-
tion," he said, " and wait there till you hear from me."
The meanly vigilant eyes of the man in plain clothes travel-
ed sidelong from Julian to Mercy, and valued her beauty as
they had valued the carpet and the chairs. " The old story,"
he thought. " The nice-looking woman is always at the bot-
tom of it ; and, sooner or later, the nice-looking woman has
her way." He marched back across the room, to the discord
of his own creaking boots, bowed, with a villainous smile
which put the worst construction on every thing, and vanish-
ed through the library door.
Lady Janet's high breeding restrained her from saying any
thing until the police officer was out of hearing. Then, and
not till then, she appealed to Julian.
" I presume you arc in the secret of this ?" she said. " I
suppose you have some reason for setting my authority at
defiance in my own house?"
" I have never yet failed to respect your ladyship," Julian
answered. " Before long you will know that I am not failing
in respect toward you now."
Lady Janet looked across the room. Grace was listening
eagei-ly, conscious that events had taken some mysterious turn
in her favor within the last minute.
" Is it part of your new arrangement of my affairs," her
ladyship continued, "that this person is to remain in the
house ?"
The terror that had daunted Grace had not lost all hold of
her yet. She left it to Julian to reply. Before he could speak
Mercy crossed the room and whispered to her, " Give me time
to confess it in writing. I can't own it before them with
this round my neck." She pointed to the necklace. Grace
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 199
cast a threatening glance at her, and suddenly looked away
again in silence.
Mercy answered Lady Janet's question. " I beg your lady-
ship to permit her to remain until the half hour is over," she
said. " My request will have explained itself by that time."
Lady Janet raised no further obstacles. Something in
Mercy's face, or in Mercy's tone, seemed to have silenced her,
as it had silenced Grace. Horace was the next who spoke.
In tones gf suppressed rage and suspicion he addressed him-
self to Mercy, standing fronting him by Julian's side.
"Am I included," he asked, "in the arrangement which en-
gages you to explain your extraordinary conduct in half an
hour?"
Sis hand had placed his mother's wedding present round
Mercy's neck, A sharp pang wrung her as she looked at
Horace, and saw how deeply she had already distressed and
offended him. The tears rose in her eyes ; she humbly and
faintly answered him.
" If you please," was all she could say, before the cruel
swelling at her heart rose and silenced her.
Horace's sense of injury refused to be soothed by such sim-
ple submission as this.
" I dislike mysteries and innuendoes," he went on, harshly.
"In my family circle we are accustomed to meet each other
frankly. Why am I to wait half an hour for an explanation
which might be given now? What am I to wait for?"
Lady Janet recovered herself as Horace spoke.
" I entirely agree with you," she said. " I ask, too, what
are we to wait for?"
Even Julian's self-possession failed him when his aunt re-
peated that cruelly plain question. How would Mercy an-
swer it ? Would her courage still hold out ?
" You have asked me what you are to wait for," she said
to Horace, quietly and firmly. " Wait to hear something
more of Mercy Merrick."
200 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Lady Janet listened with a look of weary disgust.
"Don't return to thatP^ she said, "We know enough
about Mercy Merrick already."
"Pardon me your ladyship does not know. I am the
only person who can inform you."
"You?"
She bent her head respectfully.
" I have begged you, Lady Janet, to give me half an hour,"
she went on. " In half an hour I solemnly engager myself to
produce Mercy Merrick in this room. Lady Janet Roy, Mr.
Horace Holmcrof t, you are to wait for that."
Steadily pledging herself in those terms to make her con-
fession, she unclasped the pearls from her neck, put them away
in their case, and placed it in Horace's hand. " Keep it," she
said, with a momentary faltering in her voice, " until we meet
again."
Horace took the case in silence ; he looked and acted like a
man whose mind was paralyzed by surprise. His hand moved
mechanically. His eyes followed Mercy with a vacant, ques-
tioning look. Lady Janet seemed, in her different way, to
share the strange oppression that had fallen on him. A vague
sense of dread and distress hung like a cloud over her mind.
At that memorable moment she felt her age, she looked her
age, as she had never felt it or looked it yet.
" Have I your ladyship's leave," said Mercy, respectfully,
" to go to my room ?"
Lady Janet mutely granted the request. Mercy's last look,
before she went out, was a look at Grace. "Are you satis-
fied now ?" the grand gray eyes seemed to say, mournfully.
Grace turned her head aside, with a quick, petulant action.
Even her narrow nature opened for a moment unwillingly,
and let pity in a little way, in spite of itself.
Mercy's parting words recommended Grace to Julian's care :
" You will see that she is allowed a room to wait in ? You
will warn her yourself when the half hour has expired ?"
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 201
Julian opened the library door for her.
" Well done ! Nobly done !" he whispered. "All my sym-
pathy is with you all my help is yours."
Her eyes looked at him, and thanked him, through her
gathering tears. His own eyes were dimmed. She passed
quietly down the room, and was lost to him before he had
shut the door again.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE FOOTSTEP IN THE COBBIDOB.
Mercy was alone.
She had secured one half hour of retirement in her own
room, designing to devote that interval to the writing of her
confession, in the form of a letter addressed to Julian Gray.
No recent change in her position had, as yet, mitigated her
horror of acknowledging to Horace and to Lady Janet that
she had won her way to their hearts in disguise. Through
Julian only could she say the words which were to establish
Grace Roseberry in her right position in the house.
How was her confession to be addressed to him ? In writ-
ing ? or by word of mouth ?
After all that had happened, fi'om the time when Lady Ja-
net's appearance had interrupted them, she would have felt
relief rather than embari'assment in personally opening her
heart to the man who had so delicately understood her, who
had so faithfully befriended her in her sorest need. But the
repeated betrayals of Horace's jealous suspicion of Julian
warned her that she would only be surrounding herself with
new difficulties, and be placing Julian in a position of painful
embarrassment, if she admitted him to a private interview
while Horace was in the house.
The one course left to take was the course that she had
adopted* Determining to address the narrative of tkeFv^^^
202 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
to Jalian in the form of a letter, she arranged to add, at the
close, certain instructions, pointing out to bim the line of con-
duct which she wished him to pursue.
These instructions contemplated the communication of her
letter to Lady Janet and to Horace in the library, while Mercy
self-confessed as the missing woman whom she had pledged
herself to produce awaited in the adjoining room whatever
sentence it pleased them to pronounce on her. Her resolu-
tion not to screen herself behind Julian from any consequences
which might follow the confession had taken root in her mind
from the moment when Horace had harshly asked her (and
when Lady Janet had joined him in asking) why she delayed
her explanation, and what she was keeping them waiting for.
Out of the very pain which those questions inflicted, the idea
of waiting her sentence in her own person in one room, while
her letter to Julian was speaking for her in another, had
sprung to life. " Let thera break my heart if they like," she
had thought to herself, in the self-abasement of that bitter
moment ; " it will be no more than I have deserved."
She locked her door and opened her writing-desk. Know-
ing what she had to do, she tried to collect herself and do it.
The effort was in vain. Those persons who study writing
as an art are probably the only persons who can measure the
vast distance which separates a conception as it exists in the
mind from the redaction of that conception to form and shape
in words. The heavy stress of agitation that had been laid
on Mercy for hours together had utterly unfitted her for the
delicate and difficult process of arranging the events of a nar-
rative in their due sequence and their due proportion toward
each other. Again and again she tried to begin her letter,
and again and again she was baffled by the same hopeless con-
fusion of ideas. She gave up the struggle in despair.
A sense of sinking at her heart, a weight of hysterical op-
pression on her bosom, warned her not to leave herself unoe-
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 203
cnpied, a prey, to morbid self-investigation and imaginary
alarms.
She turned instinctively, for a temporary employment of
some kind, to the consideration of her own future. Here
there were no intricacies or entanglements. The prospect be-
gan and ended with her return to the Refuge, if the matron
would receive her. She did no injustice to Julian Gray;
that great heart would feel for her, that kind hand would
be held out to her, she knew. But what would happen if
she thoughtlessly accepted all that his sympathy might offer ?
Scandal would point to her beauty and to his youth, and
would place its own vile interpretation on the purest friend-
ship that could exist between them. And he would be the
sufferer, for he had a character a clergyman's character to
lose. No. For his sake, out of gratitude to Aim, the fare-
well to Mablethorpe House must be also the farewell to Ju-
lian Gray,
The precious minutes were passing. She resolved to write
to the niatron and ask if she might hope to be forgiven and
employed at the Refuge again. Occupation over the letter
that was easy to write might have its fortifying effect on her
mind, and might pave the way for resuming the letter that
was hard to write. She waited a moment at the window,
thinking of the past life to which she was soon to return, be-
fore she took up the pen again.
Her window looked eastward. The dusky glare of lighted
London met her as her eyes rested on the sky. It seemed to
beckon her back to the horror of the cruel streets to point
her way mockingly to the bridges over the black river to
lure her to the top of the parapet, and the dreadful leap into
God's arms, or into annihilation wlio knew which ?
She turned, shuddering, from the window. " Will it end
in that way," she asked herself, " if the matron says No ?"
She began her letter.
204 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
^'Deab Madam, So long a time has passed since yon
heard from me that I almost shrink from writing to you. t
am afraid yon have already given me up in your own mind as
a hard-hearted, ungrateful woman.
" I have been leading a false life ; I have not been fit to
write to you before to-day. Now, when I am doing what I
can to atone to those whom I have injured now, when I re-
pent with my whole heart may I ask leave to return to the
friend who has boine with me and lielped me through many
miserable years ? Oh, madam, do not cast me ofiE ! I have
no one to turn to but you.
" Will you let me own every thing to you ? Will you for-
give me when you know what I have done? Will you take
me back into the Refuge, if you have any employment for me
by which I may earn my shelter and my bread ?
"Before the night comes I must leave the house from
which I am now writing. I have nowhere to go to. The
little money, the few valuable possessions I have, must be left
behind nie : they have been obtained under false pretenses ;
they are not mine. No more forlorn creature than I am lives
at this moment. You are a Christian woman. Not for my
sake for Christ's sake pity me and take me back.
" I am a good nurse, as you know, and I am a quick worker
with my needle. In one way or the other can you not find
occupation for me ?
" I could also teach, in a very unpretending way. But that
is useless. Who would trust their children to a wonpian with-
out a character? There is no hope for me in this direction.
And yet I am so fond of children ! I think I could be, not
happy again, perhaps, but content with my lot, if I could be
associated with them in some way. Are there not charitable
societies which are trying to help and protect destitute chil-
dren wandering about the streets? I think of my own
wretched childhood and oh ! I should so like to be em-
ployed in saving other children from ending as I have ended.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 205
I conid work, for such an object as that, from morning to
night, and never feel weary. All my heart would be in it ;
and I should have this advantage over happy and prosperous
women I should have nothing else to think of. Surely they
might trust me with the poor little starving wanderers of the
streets if you said a word for me? If I am asking too
much, please forgive me. I am so wretched, madam so
lonely and so weary of my life.
"There is only one thing more. My time here is very
short. Will you please reply to this letter (to say yes or no)
by telegram ?
"The name by which you know me is not the name by
which I have been known here. I must beg you to address
the telegram to *The Reverend Julian Gray, Mablethorpe
House, Kensington.' He is here, and he will show it to me.
No words of mine can describe what I owe to him. He has
never despaired of me ^lie has saved me from myself. God
bless and reward the kindest, truest, best man I have ever
known !
" I have no more to say, except to ask you to excuse this
long letter, and to believe me your grateful servant, ."
She signed and inclosed the letter, and wrote the address.
Then, for the first time, an obstacle which she ought to have
seen before showed itself, standing straight in her way.
There was no time to forward her letter in the ordinary
manner by post It must be taken to its destination by a
private messenger. Lady Janet's servants had hitherto been,
one and all, at her disposal. Could she presume to employ
them on her own affairs, when she might be dismissed from
the house, a disgraced woman, in half an hour's time ? Of
the two alternatives it seemed better to take her chance, and
present herself at the Refuge without asking leave first.
While she was still considering the question she was start-
led by a knock at her door. On opening it she admitted
206 THE NEW MAGDALEK.
Lady Janet'ii maid, with a morsel of folded note-paper in ber
hand.
"From my lady, miss," said the woman, giving her the
note. " There is no answer.''
Mercy stopped her as she was about to leave the room.
The appearance of the maid suggested an inquiry to her.
She asked if any of the servants were likely to be going into
town that afternoon.
" Yes, miss. One of the grooms is going on horseback,
with a message to her ladyship's coach-maker."
The Refuge was close by the coach-maker's place of bnsi-
nesR. Under the circumstances, Mercy was emboldened to
make use of the man. It was a pardonable liberty to employ
his services now.
" Will you kindly give the groom that letter for me ?" she
said. " It will not take him out of his way. He has only to
deliver it nothing more."
The woman willingly complied with the request. Left once
more by herself, Mercy looked at the little note which had
been placed in her hands.
It was the first time that her benefactress had employed
this formal method of communicating with her when they
were both in the house. What did such a departure from
established habits mean. Had she received her notice of dis-
missal? Had Lady Janet's quick intelligence found its way
already to a suspicion of the truth ? Mercy's nerves were
unstrung. She trembled pitiably as she opened the folded
note.
It began without a form of address, and it ended without
a signature. Thus it ran ;
" I must request you to delay for a little while the explana-
tion w^hich you have promised me. At my age, painful sur-
prises are very trying things. I must have time to compose
myself, before I can hear what you have to say. You shall
not be kept waiting longer than I can help. In the mean
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 207
while every thing will go on as usual. My nephew Julian,
and Horace Holmcroft, and the lady whom I found in the
dining-room, will, by my desire, remain in the house until I am
able to meet them, and to meet you, again."
There the note ended. To what conclusion did it point ?
Had Lady Janet really guessed the truth ? or had she only
surmised that her adopted daughter was connected in some
discreditable manner with the mystery of "Mercy Merrick?"
The line in which she referred to the intruder in the dining-
room as " the lady " showed very I'emarkably that her opin-
ions had undergone a change in that quarter. But was the
phrase enough of itself to justify the inference that she had
actually anticipated the nature of Mercy's confession ? It was
not easy to decide that doubt at the moment and it proved
to be equally difficult to throw any light on it at an after-
time. To the end of her life Lady Janet resolutely refused
to communicate to any one the conclusions which she might
have privately formed, the griefs which she might have secret-
ly stifled, on that memorable day.
Amidst much, however, which was beset with uncertainty,
one thing at least was clear. The time at Mercy's disposal
in her own room had been indefinitely prolonged by Mercy's
benefactress. Hours might pass before the disclosure to
which she stood committed would be expected from her. In
those hours she might surely compose her mind sufficiently
to be able to write her letter of confession to Julian Gray.
Once more she placed the sheet of paper before her. Rest-
ing her head on her hand as she sat at the table, she tried to
trace her way through the labyrinth of the past, beginning
with the day when she had met Grace Roseberry in the
French cottage, and ending with the day which had brought
them face to face, for the second time, in the dining-room at
Mablethorpe House.
The chain of events began to unroll itself in her mind clear-
ly, link by link.
I
THE NEW
Sho remarked, aa sbe paisued tlie retrospect, how Btraogely
Chance, or Fate, had paved the way for the out of pcrBouatloii,
ni the first place.
If they had met under ordinary druum stances, neither Mer-
cy nor Grace would have trusted each other with the coiiR-
Jluiices which had been exchanged beiwoeii them. Aa the
fvcnt had liappened, they liad come togetlier, under tltose ti-
traordmary circumstances of commou trial and common peril,
in a strange country, which would especially predispose two
women of the same nation ta open their hearts to each other.
In no other way could Mercy liavo obtained at a first inter-
view that fatal knowledge of Gi'ace's jmsitiuu and Gi'acc's
ftfEaii'S whii^h hml placed temptation before her, as iho ncces-
Bftry cousequeuce that followed the bursting of the Gcniiaii
Bhell.
Advancing from this point through the succeeding sericft
oi events which had so naturally and yet so strangely favored
the iH?rpelration of the fraud, Mercy reached the latei- period
when Grace had followed her to England. Hero again she
remarked, in the second place, how Chance, or Fate, had oneo
more paved the way for that second meeting which had con-
fronted them with one another nt MablethorjM: Ron:
She had, as she well i-ememhe red, attended at a cerliiin 8s-
aenibly (convened by a charitable society) in the character of
Lady Janet's representative, at Lady Janet's own rcqnest.
For that reason slie had been absent from the house
Grace had entered it. If her return had been delayed by a
few minutes only, Juhan would have had time to take Grace
ont of the room, and the terrible meeting which had stretched
Mercy senseless on the floor would never have taken pliioe,
^ the event h.td happened, the period of her absunce bad
been fatally shortened by what appearoil at the time to bo UiB
cominonesl possible occurrence. The persons assembled at
the society's rooms had disagreed o seriously (^n tilt) biisiiieM
which had brought them together as to render it in-eessAry tu
THB KBW MAGDALEN. 209
take the ordinary course of adjourning the proceedings to a
future day. And Chance, or Fate, had so timed that adjourn-
ment as to bring Mercy back into the dining-room exactly
at the moment when Grace Roseberry insisted on being con-
fronted with the woman who had taken her place.
She had never yet seen the circumstances in this sinister
light. She was alone in her room, at a crisis in her life. She
was worn and weakened by emotions which had shaken her
to the soul.
Little by little she felt the enei*vating influences let loose
on her, in her lonely position, by her new train of thought.
Little by little her heart began to sink under the stealthy
chill of superstitious dread. Vaguely horrible presentiments
throbbed in her with her pulses, flowed through her with her
blood. Mystic oppressions of hidden disaster hovered over
her in the atmosphere of the room. The cheerful candle-light
turned traitor to her and grew dim. Supernatural murmurs
trembled round the house in the moaning of the winter wind.
She was afraid to look behind her. On a sudden she felt her
own cold hands covering her face, without knowing when she
had lifted them to it, or why.
Still helpless under the horror that held her, she suddenly
heard footsteps a man's footsteps ^in the corridor outside.
At other times the sound would have startled her : now it
broke the spell. The footsteps suggested life, companionship,
human interposition ^no matter of what sort. She mechan-
ically took up her pen; she found herself beginning to re-
member her letter to Julian Gray. .
At the same moment the footsteps stopped outside her
door. The man knocked.
She still felt shaken. She was hardly mistress of herself
yet. A faint cry of alarm escaped her at the sound of thie
knock. Before it could be repeated she had rallied her cour-
age, and had opened the door.
The man in the corridor was Horace Holmcrof t.
210 THE NEW MAGDALBK.
His ruddy complexion had turned pale. His hair (of
which he was especially careful at other times) was in disor-
der. The superficial polish of his manner was gone ; the un-
disguised man, sullen, distrustful, irritated to the last degree
of endurance, showed through. He looked at her with a
watchfully suspicious eye ; he spoke to her, without preface
or apology, in a coldly angry voice.
"Are you aware," he asked, " of what is going on down
stairs ?"
" I have not left my room," she answered. " I know that
Lady Janet has deferred the explanation which I had prom*
ised to give her, and I know no more."
" Has nobody told you what Lady Janet did after you left
us? Has nobody told you that she politely placed her own
boudoir at the disposal of the veiy woman whom she had or-
dered half an hour before to leave the house ? Do you really
not know that Mr. Julian Gray has himself conducted this
suddenly-honored guest to her place of retirement ? and that
I am left alone in the midst of these changes, contradictions,
and mysteries the only person who is kept out in the dark ?"
" It is surely needless to ask me these questions," said Mer-
cy, gently. " Who could possibly have told me what was go-
ing on below stairs before you knocked at my door?"
He looked at her with an ironical affectation of surprise.
" You are strangely forgetful to-day," *he said. " Surely
your friend Mr. Julian Gray might have told you ? I am as-
tonished to hear that he has not had his private interview
yet."
" I don't understand you, Horace."
" I don't want you to understand me," he retorted, irrita-
bly. "The proper person to understand me is Julian Gray.
I look to him to account to me for the confidential relations
which seem to have been established between you behind ray
back. He has avoided me thus far, but I shall find my way
to him yet."
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 211
His manner threatened more than his words expressed. In
Mercy's nervous condition at the moment, it suggested to her
that he might attempt to fasten a quarrel on Julian Gray.
" You are entirely mistaken," she said, warmly. " You are
ungratefully doubting your best and truest friend. I say
nothing of myself. You will soon discover why I patiently
submit to suspicions which other women would resent as an
insult."
" Let me discover it at once. Now ! Without wasting a
moment more !"
There had hitherto been some little distance between them.
Mercy had listened, waiting on the threshold of her door ;
Horace had spoken, standing against the opposite wall of the
corridor. When he said his last words he suddenly stepped
forward, and (with something imperative in the gesture) laid
his hand on her arm. The strong grasp of it almost hurt her.
She struggled to release herself.
" Let me go !" she said. " What do you mean ?"
He dropped her arm as suddenly as he had taken it.
"You shall know what I mean," he replied. "A woman
who has grossly outraged and insulted you ^whose only ex-
cuse is that she is mad is detained in the house at your de-
sire, I might almost say at your command, when the police
officer is waiting to take her away. I have a right to know
what this means. ' I am engaged to marry you. If you won't
trust other people, you are bound to explain yourself to Me.
I refuse to wait for Lady Janet's convenience. I insist (if
you force me to say so) I insist on knowing the real nature
of your connection with this affair. You have obliged me to
follow you here; it is my only opportunity of speaking to
you. You avoid me ; you shut yourself up from me in your
own room. I am not your husband yet I have no right to
follow you in. But there are other rooms open to us. The
library is at our disposal, and I will take care that we are not
interrupted. I am now going there, and I have a last ques-
10
212 THX NEW MAGDALEN.
tion to ask. You are to be my wife in a week's time : will
you take me into your confidence or not ?"
To hesitate was, in this case, literally to be lost. Mercy's
sense of justice told her that Horace had clsumed no more
than his due. She answered instantly :
" I will follow you to the library, Horace, in five minutes."
Her prompt and frank compliance with his wishes surprised
and touched him. He took her hand.
She had endured all that his angry sense of injury could
say. His gratitude wounded her to the quick. The bitterest
moment she had felt yet was the moment in which he raised
her hand to his lips, and murmured tenderly, " My own true
Grace !" She could only sign to him to leave her, and hurry
back into her own room.
Her first feeling, when she found herself alone again, was
wonder wonder that it should never have occurred to her,
until he had himself suggested it, that her betrothed husband
had the foremost right to her confession. Her horror at own-
ing to cither of them that she had cheated them out of their
love had hitherto placed Horace and Lady Janet on the same
level. She now saw for the first time that there was no com-
parison between the claims which they respectively had on
her. She owned an allegiance to Horace to which Lady Janet
could assert no right. Cost her what it might to avow the
truth to him with her own lips, the cruel sacrifice must be
made.
Without a moment's hesitation she put away her writing
materials. It amazed her that she should ever have thought
of using Julian Gray as an interpreter between the man to
whom she was betrothed and herself. Julian's sympathy (she
thought) must have made a strong impression on her indeed
to blind her to a duty which was beyond all compromise,
which admitted of no dispute !
She had asked for five minutes of delay before she followed
Horace. It was too long a time.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 213
Her one chance of finding courage to crush him with the
dreadful revelation of who she really was, of what she had
really done, was to plunge headlong into the disclosure with-
out giving herself time to think. The shame of it would
overpower her if she gave herself time to think.
She turned to the door to follow him at once.
Even at that terrible moment the most ineradicable of all
a woman's instincts the instinct of personal self-respect
brought her to a pause. She had passed through more than
one terrible trial since she had dressed to go down stairs.
Remembering this, she stopped mechanically, retraced her
steps, and looked at herself in the glass.
There was no motive of vanity in what she now did. The
action was as unconscious as if she had buttoned an unfasten-
ed glove, or shaken out a crumpled dress. Not the faintest
idea crossed her mind of looking to see if her beauty might
still plead for her, and of trying to set it off at its best.
A momentary smile, the most weary, the most hopeless,
that ever saddened a woman's face, appeared in the reflection
which her mirror gave her back. " Haggard, ghastly, old be-
fore my time 1" she said to herself. " Well ! better so. He
will feel it less he will not regret me."
With that thought she went down stairs to meet him in the
library.
CHAPTER XXn.
THE MAN IN THE DINING-EOOM.
In the great emergencies of life we feel, or we act, as our
dispositions incline us. But we never think. Mercy's mind
was a blank as she descended the stairs. On her way down
she was conscious of nothing but the one headlong impulse to
get to the library in the shortest possible space of time. Ar-
rived at the door, the impulse capriciously left her. She stop-
214 THE NEW MAGDALSX.
ped on the mat, wondering why she had harried herself, with
time to spare. Her heart sank ; the fever of her excitement
changed suddenly to a chill as she faced the closed door, and
asked herself the question, Dare I go in ?
Her own hand answered her. She lifted it to turn the han-
die of the lock. It dropped again helplessly at her side.
The sense of her own irresolution wrung from her a low
exclamation of despair. Faint as it was, it had apparently
not passed unheard. The door was opened from within
and Horace stood before her.
He drew aside to let her pass into the room. But he never
followed her in. He stood in the door-way, and spoke to her,
keeping the door open with his hand.
" Do you mind waiting here for me ?" he asked.
She looked at him, in vacant surprise, doubting whether she
had heard him aright.
" It will not be for long," he went on. " I am far too anx-
ious to hear what you have to tell me to submit to any need-
less delays. The truth is, I have had a message from Lady
Janet."
(From Lady Janet ! What could Lady Janet want with
him, at a time when she was bent on composing herself in the
retirement of her own room ?)
"I ought to have said two messages," Horace proceeded.
"The first was given to me on my way down stairs. Lady
Janet wished to see me immediately. I sent an excuse. A
second message followed. Lady Janet would accept no ex-
cuse. If I refused to go to her I should be merely obliging
her to come to me. It is impossible to risk being interrupted
in that way ; my only alternative is to get the thing over as
soon as possible. Do you mind waiting ?"
" Certainly not. Have you any idea of what Lady Janet
wants with you ?"
" No. Whatever it is, she shall not keep me long away
from you. You will be quite alone here ; I have warned the
THE NEW MAGDALEN, 215
servants not to show any one in." With those words he
left her.
Mercy's first sensation was a sensation of relief soon lost
in a feeling of shame at the weakness which could welcome
any temporary relief in such a position as hers. The emotion
thus roused merged, in its turn, into a sense of impatient re-
gret. " But for Lady Janet's message," she thought to her-
self, " I might have known my fate by this time !"
The slow minutes followed each other drearily. She paced
to and fro in the library, faster and faster, under the intoler-
able irritation, the maddening uncertainty, of her own sus-
pense. Ere long, even the spacious room seemed to be too
small for her. The sober monotony of the long book-lined
shelves oppressed and offended her. She threw open the door
which led into the dining-room, and dashed in, eager for a
change of objects, athirst for more space and more air.
At the first step she checked herself; rooted to the spot,
under a sudden revulsion of feeling which quieted her in an
instant.
The room was only illuminated by the waning fire-light.
A man was obscurely visible, seated on the sofa, with his el-
bows on his knees and his head resting on his hands. He
looked up as the open door let in the light from the library
lamps. The mellow glow reached his face and revealed Ju-
lian Gray.
Mercy was standing with her back to the light; her face
being necessanly hidden in deep shadow. He recognized her
by her figure, and by the attitude into which it unconscious-
ly fell. That unsought grace, that lithe long beauty of line,
belonged to but one woman in the house. He rose, and ap-
proached her.
" I have been wishing to see you," he said, " and hoping
that accident might bring about some such meeting as this."
He offered her a chair. Mercy hesitated before she took
her seat. This was their first meeting alone since Lady Janet
216 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
had interrnpted her at the moment when she was about to
confide to Julian the melancholy story of the past. Was he
anxious to seize the opportunity of returning to her confes-
sion? The terms in which he had addressed her seemed to
imply it She put the question to him in plain words.
^^I feel the deepest interest in hearing all that yon have
still to confide to me," he answered. " But anxious as I may
be, I will not hurry you. I will wait, if you wish it."
"I am afraid I must own that I do wish it," Mercy re-
joined. " Not on my account but because my time is at the
disposal of Horace Holmcroft. I expect to see him in a few
minutes."
"Could you give me those few minutes?" Julian asked.
" I have something on my side to say to you which I think
you ought to know before you see any one Horace himself
included."
He spoke with a certain depression of tone which was not
associated with her previous experience of him. His face
looked prematurely old and care-worn in the red light of the
fire. Something had plainly happened to sadden and to dis-
appoint hira since they had last met.
" I willingly offer you all the time that I have at my own
command," Mercy replied. " Does what you have to tell me
relate to Lady Janet ?"
He gave her no direct reply. " What I have to tell you of
Lady Janet," he said, gravely, " is soon told. So far as she
is concerned you have nothing more to dread. Lady Janet
knows all."
Even the heavy weight of oppression caused by the im-
pending interview with Horace failed to hold its place in
Mercy's mind when Julian answered her in those words.
" Come into the lighted room," she said, faintly. " It is too
terrible to hear you say that in the dark."
Julian followed her into the library. Her limbs trembled
under her. She dropped into a chair, and shrank under his
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 217
great bright eyes, as he stood by her side looking sadly down
on her.
" Lady Janet knows all !" she repeated, w^th her head on
her breast, and the tears falling slowly over her cheeks. Have
you told her ?"
" I have said nothing to Lady Janet or to any one. Tour
confidence is a sacred confidence to me, until you have spoken
first."
" Has Lady Janet said any thing to you ?"
" Not a word. She has looked at you with the vigilant
eyes of love ; she has listened to you with the quick hearing
of love and she has found her own way to the truth. She
will not speak of it to me she will not speak of it to any
living creature. I only know now how dearly she loved you.
In spite of herself she clings to you still. Her life, poor soul,
has been a barren one; unworthy, miserably unworthy, of
such a nature as hers. Her marriage was loveless and child-
less. She has had admirers, but never, in the higher sense
of the word, a friend. All the best years of her life have
been wasted in the unsatisfied longing for something to love.
At the end of her life You have filled the void. Her heart
has found its youth again, through You. At her age at any
age ^is such a tie as this to be rudely broken at the mere bid-
ding of circumstances ? No I She will suffer any thing,.risk
any thing, forgive any thing, rather than own, even to herself,
that she has been deceived in you. There is more than her
happiness at stake ; there is pride, a noble pride, in such love
as hers, which will ignore the plainest discovery and deny the
most unanswerable truth. I am firmly convinced ^from my
own knowledge of her character, and from what I have ob-
served in her to-day that she will find some excuse for re-
fusing to hear your confession. And more than that, I be-
lieve (if the exertion of her influence can do it) that she will
leave no means untried of preventing you from acknowledg-
ing your true position here to any living creature. I take a
10*
S18 THB nrar uAapAiMM,
erioos responnbiUty on myself in telling yon tfaia and I
don't shrink from it Yon ought to know, and yon ehaD
know, what trials and what temptations may yet lie before
you."
He paused Cleaving Meroy time to compose herself, if she
wished to speak to him.
She felt that there was a necessity for her speaking to him.
He was plainly not aware that Lady Janet had already writ-
ten to her to defer her promised explanation. This ciicnm- (
stance was in itsdf a confirmation of the opinion which he
had expressed. She ought to menticm it to him ; she tried to
mention it to him. But she was not equal to the effort The
few simple words in which he had touched on the tie that
bound Lady Janet to her had wrung her heart Her tears
choked her. She could only sign to him to go on.
^ You may wonder at my speaking so positively,'' he con-
tinued, ^ with nothing better than my own conviction to jus-
tify me. I can only say that I have watched Lady Janet too
closely to feel any doubt I saw the moment in which the
truth flashed on her, as plainly as I now see you. It did not
disclose itself gradually it burst on her, as it burst on me.
She suspected nothing she was frankly indignant at your
sudden interference and your strange language until the
time carae in which you pledged yourself to produce Mercy
Merrick. Then (and then only) the truth broke on her mind,
trebly revealed to her in your words, your voice, and your
look. Then (and then only) I saw a marked change come
over her, and remain in her while she remained in the room.
I dread to think of what she may do in the fjrst reckless de-
spair of the discovery that she has made. I distrust though
God knows I am not naturally a suspicious man the most
apparently trifling events that are npw taking place about
us. You have held nobly to your resolution to own the truth.
Prepare yourself, before the evening is over, to be tried and
tempted again.''
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 219
Mercy lifted her head. Fear took the place of grief in her
eyes, as they rested in startled inquiry on Julian's face.
" How is it possible that temptation can come to me now ?"
she asked.
" I will leave it to events to answer that question," he said.
" You will not have long to wait. In the mean time I have
put you on your guard." He stooped, and spoke his next
words earnestly, close at her ear. " Hold fast by the admi-
rable courage which you have shown thus far," he went on.
" Suffer any thing rather than suffer the degradation of your-
self. Be the woman whom I once spoke of the woman I
still have in my mind who can nobly reveal the noble nature
that is in her. And never forget this my faith in you is as
firm as ever I"
She looked at him proudly and gratefully.
"I am pledged to justify your faith in me," she said. "I
have put it out of my own power to yield. Horace has ray
promise that I will explain every thing to him, in this room."
Julian started.
" Has Horace himself asked it of you ?" ho inquired. "-Sfe,
at least, has no suspicion of the truth."
" Horace has appealed to ray duty to him as his betrothed
wife," she answered. " He has the first claim to my confi-
dence he resents my silence, and he has a right to resent it.
Terrible as it will be to open his eyes to the truth, I must do
it if he asks me."
She was looking at Julian while she spoke. The old long-
ing to associate with the hard trial of the confession the one
man who had felt for her, and believed in her, revived under
another form. If she could only know, while she was saying
the fatal words to Horace, that Julian was listening too, she
would be encouraged to n eet the worst that could happen !
As the idea crossed her mind, she observed that Julian was
looking toward the door through which they had lately pass-
ed. In an instant she saw the means to her ewd^ ^^x^^S:^
220 THB NBW MAGDALEN.
waiting to hear the few kind expressions of sympathy and
approval which he addressed to her, she hinted timidly at the
proposal which she had now to make to him.
"Ane you going back into the next room?" she asked.
" Not if you object to it," he replied.
" I don't object I want you to be there."
"After Horace has joined you?"
" Yes. After Horace has joined me."
" Do you wish to see me when it is over ?"
She summoned her resolution, and told him frankly what
she had in her mind.
" I want you to be near me while I am speaking to Hor-
ace," she said. " It will give me courage if I can feel that I
am speaking to you as well as to him. I can count on your
sympathy and sympathy is so precious to me now ! Am I
asking too much, if I ask you to leave the door unclosed
when you go back to the dining-room ? Think of the dread-
ful trial to him as well as to me ! I am only a woman ; I
am afraid I may sink under it, if I have no friend near me.
And I have no friend but you."
In those simple words she tried her powers of persuasion
on him for the first time.
Between perplexity and distress Julian was, for the mo-
ment, at a loss how to answer her. The love for Mercy
which lie dared not acknowledge was as vital a feeling in him
as the faith in her which he had been free to avow. To re-
fuse any thing that she asked of him in her sore need and,
more even than that, to refuse to hear the confession which it
had been her first impulse to make to Jdm these were cruel
sacrifices to his sense of what was due to Horace and of what
was due to himself. But shrink as he might, even from the
appearance of deserting her, it was impossible for him (ex-
cept under a reserve which was almost equivalent to a denial)
to grant her request.
"All that I can do I will do," he said. " The doors shall
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 221
be left unclosed, and I will remain in the next room, on this
condition^ that Horace knows of it as well as you. I should
be unworthy of your confidence in me if I consented to b6 a
listener on any other terms. You understand that, I am sure,
as well as I do."
She had never thought of her proposal to him in this light.
Woman-like, she had thought of nothing but the comfort of
having him near her. She understood him' now. A faint
flush of shame rose on her pale cheeks as she thanked him.
He delicately relieved her from her embarrassment by putting
a question which naturally occurred under the circumstances.
" Where is Horace all this time ?" he asked. " Why is he
not here ?"
" He has been called away," she answered, " by a message
from Lady Janet."
The reply more than astonished Julian ; it seemed almost
to alarm him. He returned to Mercy's chair ; he said to her,
eagerly, "Are you sure ?"
" Horace himself told me that Lady Janet had insisted on
seeing him."
" When ?"
"Not long ago. He asked me to wait for him here while
he went up stairs."
Julian's face darkened ominously.
" This confirms my worst fears," he said. " Have you had
any communication with Lady Janet ?"
Mercy replied by showing him his aunt's note. He read it
carefully through.
" Did I not tell you," he said, " that she would find some
excuse for refusing to hear your confession ? She begins by
delaying it, simply to gain time for something else which she
has it in her mind to do. When did you receive this note ?
Soon after you went up stairs ?"
"About a quarter of an hour after, as well as I can guess."
" Do you know what happened down here after you left us?"
222 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
^^ Horace told me that Lady Janet had offered Miss Rose-
berry the use of her boudoir.''
" Any more ?"
" He said that you had shown her the way to the room."
"Did he tell you what happened after that?"
No."
" Then I must tell you. If I can do nothing more in this
serious state of things, I can at least prevent your being taken
by surprise. In the first place, it is right you should know
that I had a motive for accompanying Miss Roseberry to the
boudoir. I was anxious (for your sake) to make some appeal
to her better self if she had any better self to address. I
own I had doubts of my success ^judging by what I had al-
ready seen of her. My doubts were confirmed. In the ordi-
nary intercourse of life I should merely have thought her a
commonplace, uninteresting woman. Seeing her as I saw her
while we were alone in other words, penetrating below the
surface I have never, in all my sad experience, met with
such a hopelessly narrow, mean, and low nature as hers. Un-
derstand in u^, as she could not fail to do, what the sudden
change in Lady Janet's behavior toward her really meant, her
one idea was to take the cruelest possible advantage of it. So
far from feeling any consideration for you, she was only ad-
ditionally imbittered toward you. She protested against
your being permitted to claim the merit of placing her in her
right position here by your own voluntary avowal of the truth.
She insisted on publicly denouncing you, and on forcing Lady
Janet to dismiss you, unheard, before the whole household !
* Now I can have my revenge ! At last Lady Janet is afraid
of me !' Those were her own words I am almost ashamed
to repeat them those, on my honor, were her own words !
Every possible humiliation to be heaped on you ; no consid-
eration to be shown for Lady Janet's age and Lady Janet's
position ; nothing, absolutely nothing, to be allowed to inter-
fere with Miss Roseberry's vengeance and Miss Roseberry's
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 223
triumph ! There is this woman's shameless view of what is
due to her, as stated by herself in the plainest terms. I
kept ray temper ; I did all I could to bring her to a better
frame of mind. I might as well have pleaded -I won't say
with a savage; savages are sometimes accessible to remon-
strance, if you know how to reach them ^I might as well
have pleaded with a hungry animal to abstain from eating
while food was within its reach. I had just given up the
hopeless effort in disgust, when Lady Janet's maid appeared
with a message for Miss Roseberry from her mistress : * My
lady's compliments, ma'am, and she will be glad to see you
at your earliest convenience, in her room.' "
Another surprise! Grace Roseberry invited to an inter-
view with Lady Janet ! It would have been impossible to
believe it, if Julian had not heard the invitation given with
his own ears.
" She instantly rose," Julian proceeded. " * I won't keep
her ladyship waiting a moment,' she said ; * show me the way.'
She signed to the maid to go out of the room first, and then
turned round and spoke to me from the door. I despair of
describing the insolent exultation of her manner. ^ I can only
repeat her words : * This is exactly what I wanted ! I had
intended to insist on seeing Lady Janet : she saves me the
trouble. I am infinitely obliged to her.' With that she
nodded to me, and closed the door. I have not seen her, I
have not heard of her, since. For all I know, she may be still
with my aunt, and Horace may have found her there when
he entered the room."
" What can Lady Janet have to say to her ?" Mercy asked,
eagerly.
" It is impossible even to guess. When you found me in
the dining-room I was considering that very question. I can
not imagine that any neutral ground can exist on which it is
possible for Lady Janet and this woman to meet. In her
present frame of mind she will in all probability insult Lad^
224 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Janet before she has been five minutes in the room. I own I
am completely puzzled. The one conclusion I can arrive at is
that the note which my aunt sent to you, the private inter-
view with Miss Roseberry which has followed, and the sum-
mons to Horace which has succeeded in its turn, arc all links
in the same chain of events, and are all tending to that renew-
ed temptation against which I have already warned you.''
Mercy held up her hand for silence. She looked toward the
door that opened on the hall ; had she heard a footstep out-
side ? No. All was still. Not a sign yet of Horace's return.
" Oh !" she exclaimed, " what would I not give to know
what is going on up stairs !"
" You will soon know it now," said Julian. " It is impos-
sible that our present uncertainty can last much longer."
He turned away, intending to go back to the room in which
she had found him. Looking at her situation from a man's
point of view, he naturally assumed that the best service he
could now render to Mercy would be to leave her to prepare
herself for the interview with Horace. Before he had taken
throe steps away from her she showed him the difEerence be-
tween the woman's point of view and the man's. The idea
of considering beforehand what she should say never entered
her mind. In her horror of being left by herself at that crit-
ical moment, she forgot every other consideration. Even the
warning remembrance of Horace's jealous distrust of Julian
passed away from her, for the moment, as completely as if it
never had a place in her memory. " Don't leave me ! ' she
cried. " I can't wait here alone. Come back come back !"
She rose impulsively Avhile she spoke, as if to follow hira
into the dining-room, if he persisted in leaving her.
A momentary expression of doubt crossed Julian's face as
he retraced his steps and signed to her to be seated again.
Could she be depended on (he asked himself) to sustain the
coming test of her resolution, when she had not courage
enough to wait for events in a room by herself ? Julian had
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 225
yet to learn that a woman's courage rises with the greatness
of the emergency. Ask her to accompany you through a
field in which some harmless cattle happen to be grazing, and
it is doubtful, in nine cases out of ten, if she will do it. Ask
her, as one of the passengers in a ship on fire, to help in set-
ting an example of composure to the rest, and it is certain, in
nine cases out of ten, that she will do it. As soon as Julian
had taken a chair near her, Mercy was calm again.
"Are you sure of your resolution ?" he asked.
" I am certain of it," she answered, " as long as you don't
leave me by myself."
The talk between them dropped there. They sat together
in silence, with their eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Hor-
ace to come in.
After the lapse of a few minutes their attention was at-
tracted by a sound outside in the grounds. A carriage of
some sort was plainly audible approaching the house.
The carriage stopped; the bell rang; the front-door was
opened. Had a visitor arrived? No voice could be heard
making inquiries. No footsteps but the servant's footsteps
crossed the hall. A long pause followed, the carriage remain-
ing at the door. Instead of bringing some one to the house,
it had apparently arrived to take some one away.
The next event was the return of the servant to the front-
door. They listened again. Again no second footstep was
audible. The door was closed; the servant recrossed the
hall ; the carriage was driven away. Judging by sounds
alone, no one had arrived at the house, and no one had left
ihe house.
Julian looked at Mercy. " Do you understand this ?" he
asked.
She silently shook her head.
" If any person has gone away in the carriage," Julian went
on, " that person can hardly have been a man, or we must have
heard him in the hall."
226 THE NSW MAGDALEN.
The conclusion which her companion had jast drawn from
the noiseless departure of the supposed visitor raised a sud-
den doubt in Mercy's mind.
" Go and inquire !" she said, eagerly.
Julian left the room, and returned again, after a brief ab-
sence, with signs of grave anxiety in his face and manner.
** I told you I dreaded the most trifling events that were
passing about us," he said. ^' An event, which is far from be-
ing trifling, has just happened. The carriage which we heard
approaching along the drive turns out to have been a cab
sent for from the house. The person who has gone away in
it"
" Is a woman, as you supposed ?"
"Yes."
Mercy rose excitedly from her chair.
" It can't be Grace Roseberry ?" she exclaimed.
" It is Grace Roseberry."
" Has she gone away alone ?"
" Alone after an interview with Lady Janet."
" Did she go willingly ?"
" She herself sent the servant for the cab."
" What does it mean ?"
" It is useless to inquire. We shall soon know."
They resumed their seats, waiting, as they had waited al-
ready, with their eyes on the library door.
CHAPTER XXIII.
LADY JANET AT BAY.
The narrative leaves Julian and Mercy for a while, and, as-
cending to the upper regions of the house, follows the march
of events in Lady Janet's room.
The maid had delivered her mistress's note to Mercy, and
had gone away again on her second errand to Grace Roseber-
THE NEW MAGDALBN. 227
ly in her boudoir. Lady Janet was seated at her writing-ta-
ble, waiting for the appearance of the woman whom she had
summoned to her presence. A single lamp diffused its mild
light over the books, pictures, and busts round her, leaving
the farther end of the room, in which the bed was placed, al-
most lost in obscurity. The works of art were all portraits ;
the books were all presentation copies from the authors. It
was Lady Janet's fancy to associate her bedroom with me-
morials of the various persons whom she had known in the
long course of her life all of them more or less distinguished,
most of them, by this time, gathered with the dead.
She sat near her writing-table, lying back in her easy-chair
the living realization of the picture which Julian's descrip-
tion had drawn. Her eyes were fixed on a photographic like-
ness of Mercy, which was so raised upon a little gilt easel
as to enable her to contemplate it under the full light of the
lamp. The bright, mobile old face was strangely and sadly
changed. The brow was fixed; the mouth was rigid; the
whole face would have been like a mask, molded in the hard-
est forms of passive resistance and suppressed rage, but for
the light and life still thrown over it by the eyes. There was
something unutterably touching in the keen hungering ten-
derness of the look which they fixed on the portrait, intensi-
fied by an underlying expression of fond and patient reproach.
The danger which J[ulian so wisely dreaded was in the rest of
the face ; the love which he had so truly described was in the
eyes alone. They still spoke of the cruelly profaned affection
which had been the one immeasurable joy, the one inexhaust-
ible hope of Lady Janet's closing life. The brow expressed
nothing but her obstinate determination to stand by the wreck
of that joy, to rekindle the dead ashes of that hope. The lips
were only eloquent of her unflinching resolution to ignore the
hateful present and to save the sacred past. " My idol may
be shattered, but none of you shall know it. I stop the
march of discovery ; I extinguish the light of truth. I am
228 THE NEW MAGDALEK.
deaf to your words ; I am blind to your proofs. . At seventy
years old, ray idol is my life. It shall be my idol still.^'
The silence in the bedroom was broken by a murmaring of
women's voices outside the door.
Lady Janet instantly raised herself in the chair, and
snatched the photograph ofiE the easel. She laid the portrait
face downward among some papers on the table, then abrupt-
ly changed her mind, and hid it among the thick folds of lace
which clothed her neck and bosom. There was a world of
love in the action itself, and in the sadden softening of the
eyes which accompanied it. The next moment Lady Janet's
mask was on. Any superficial observer who had seen her
now would have said, " This is a hard woman I"
The door was opened by the maid. Grace Roseberry en-
tered the room.
She advanced rapidly, with a defiant assurance in her man-
ner, and a lofty carriage of her head. She sat down in the
chair, to which Lady Janet silently pointed, with a thump;
she returned Lady Janet's grave bow with a nod and a smile.
Every movement and every look of the little, worn, white-
faced, shabbily dressed woman expressed insolent triumph,
and said, as if in words, " My turn has come !"
" I am glad to wait on your ladyship," she began, without
giving Lady Janet an opportunity of speaking first. " In-
deed, I should have felt it my duty to request an interview,
if you had not sent your maid to invite me up here."
" You would have felt it your duty to request an inter-
view ?" Lady Janet repeated, very quietly. " Why ?"
The tone in which that one last word was spoken embar-
rassed Grace at the outset. It established as great a dis-
tance between Lady Janet and herself as if she had been
lifted in her chair and conveyed bodily to the other end of
the room.
" I am surprised that your ladyship should not understand
THE NSW MAGDALEN. 229
me," she said, struggling to conceal her confusion. " Espe-
cially after your kind offer of your own boudoir."
Lady Janet remained perfectly unmoved. "I do not un-
derstand you," she answered, just as quietly as ever.
Grace's temper came to her assistance. She recovered the
assurance which had marked her first appearance on the scene.
" In that case," she resumed, " I must enter into particulars,
in justice to myself. I can place but one interpretation on
the extraordinary change in your ladyship's behavior to me
down stairs. The conduct of that abominable woman has at
last opened your eyes to the deception that has been prac-
ticed on you. For some reason of your own, however, you
have not yet chosen to recognize me openly. In this painful
position something is due to my own self-respect. I can not,
and will not, permit Mercy Merrick to claim the merit of re-
storing me to my proper place in this house. After what I
have suffered it is quite impossible for me to endure that. I
should have requested an interview (if you had not sent for
me) for the express purpose of claiming this person's imme-
diate expulsion from the house. I claim it now as a proper
concession to Me. Whatever you or Mr. Julian Gray may
do, I will not tamely permit her to exhibit herself as an in-
teresting penitent. It is really a little too much to hear this
brazen adventuress appoint her own time for explaining her-
self. It is too deliberately insulting to see her sail out of the
room with a clergyman of the Church of England opening
the door for her as if she was laying me under an obliga-
tion ! I can forgive much. Lady Janet including the terms
in which you thought it decent to order me out of your house.
I am quite willing to accept the offer of your boudoir, as the
expression on your part of a better frame of mind. But even
Christian Charity has its limits. The continued presence of
that virretch under your roof is, you will permit me to remark,
not only a monument of your own weakness, but a perfectly
insufferable insult to Me."
230 THE NSW MAGDALEN.
There she stopped abruptly ^not for want of words, bat
for want of a listeDer.
Lady Janet was not even pretending to attend to her.
Lady Janet, with a deliberate rudeness entirely foreign to her
usual habits, was composedly busying herself in arranging
the various papers scattered about the table. Some she tied
together with little morsels of string ; some she placed under
paper-weights; some she deposited in the fantastic pigeon-
holes of a little Japanese cabinet working with a placid en-
joyment of her own orderly occupation, and perfectly una-
ware, to all outward appearance, that any second person was
in the room. She looked up, with her papers in both hands,
when Grace stopped, and said, quietly,
" Have you done ?"
" Is your ladyship's purpose in sending for me to treat me
with studied rudeness ?" Grace retorted, angrily.
" My purpose in sending for you is to say something as
soon as you will allow me the opportunity."
The impenetrable composure of that reply took Grace com-
pletely by surprise. She had no retort ready. In sheer as-
tonishment she waited silently with her eyes riveted on the
mistress of the house.
Lady Janet put down her papers, and settled herself com-
fortably in the easy-chair, preparatory to opening the inter-
view on her side.
" The little that I have to say to you," she began, " may be
said in a question. Am I right in supposing that you have
no present employment, and that a little advance in money
(delicately offered) would be very acceptable to you ?"
" Do you mean to insult me. Lady Janet ?"
" Certainly not. I mean to ask you a question."
" Your question is an insult."
" My question is a kindness, if you will only understand it
as it is intended. I don't complain of your not understand-
ing it. I don't even hold you responsible for any one of the
Tff^ NEW MAGDALEN. 231
many breaches of good manners which you have committed
since you have been in this room. I was honestly anxious to
be of some service to you, and you have repelled my advances.
I am sorry. Let us drop the subject."
Expressing herself in the most perfect temper in those
terms, Lady Janet resumed the arrangement of her papers,
and became unconscious once more of the presence of any
second person in the room.
Grace opened her lips to reply with the utmost intemper-
ance of an angry woman, and thinking better of it, controlled
herself. It was plainly useless to take the violent way with
Lady Janet Roy. Her age and her social position were
enough of themselves to repel any violence. She evidently
knew that, and trusted to it. Grace resolved to meet the ene-
my on the neutral ground of politeness, as the most promising
ground that she could occupy under present circumstances.
" If I have said any thing hasty, I beg to apologize to your
ladyship," she began. "May I ask if your only object in
sending for me was to inquire into my pecuniary affairs, with
a view to assisting me ?"
" That," said Lady Janet, " was my only object."
" You had nothing to say to me on the subject of Mercy
Merrick?"
"Nothing whatever. I am weary of hearing of Mercy
Merrick. Have you any more questions to ask me?"
" I have one more."
"Tes?"
" I wish to ask your ladyship whether you propose to rec-
ognize me in the presence of your household as the late Col-
onel Roseberry's daughter ?"
" I have already recognized you as a lady in embarrassed
circumstances, who has peculiar claims on my consideration
and forbearance. If you wish me to repeat those words in
the presence of the servants (absurd as it is), I am ready to
comply with your request."
232 THE NSW MAGDALEN.
Grace's temper began to get the better of her prudent reso-
lutions.
" Lady Janet !" she said ; " this won't do. I must request
you to express yourself plainly. You talk of my peculiar
claims on your forbearance. What claims do you mean?"
^^It will be painful to both of us if we enter into de-
tails," replied Lady Janet. " Pray don't let us enter into
details."
" I insist on it, madam."
" Pray don't insist on it."
Grace was deaf to remonstrance.
" I ask you in plain words," she went on, " do you acknowl-
edge that you have been deceived by an adventuress who has
personated me ? Do you mean to restore me to my proper
place in this house ?"
Lady Janet returned to the arrangement of her papers.
" Does your ladyship refuse to listen to me ?"
Lady Janet looked up from her papers as blandly as ever.
" If you persist in returning to your delusion," she said,
" you will oblige me to persist in returning to my papers."
"What is my delusion, if you please?"
" Your delusion is expressed in the questions you have just
put to me. Your delusion constitutes your peculiar claim on
my forbearance. Nothing you can say or do will shake my
forbearance. When I first found you in the dining-room, I
acted most improperly; I lost my temper. I did worse; I
was foolish enough and imprudent enough to send for a po-
lice officer. I owe you every possible atonement (afflicted as
you are) for treating you in that cruel manner. I offered
you the use of my boudoir, as part of my atonement. I sent
for you, in the hope that you would allow me to assist you, as
part of my atonement. You may behave rudely to me, you
may speak in the most abusive terms of my adopted daugh-
ter ; I will submit to any thing, as part of my atonement. So
long as you abstain from speaking on one painful subject, I
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 233
will listen to you w ith the greatest pleasure. Whenever you
return to that subject I shall return to my papers."
Grace looked at Lady Janet with an evil smile.
" I begin to understand your ladyship," she said. " You
are ashamed to acknowledge that you have been grossly im-
posed upon. Tour only alternative, of course, is to ignore
every thing that has happened. Pray count on ray forbear-
ance. I am not at all offended ^I am merely amused. It is
not every day that a lady of high rank exhibits herself in
such a position as yours to an obscure woman like me. Your
humane consideration for me dates, I presume, from the time
when your adopted daughter set you the example, by order-
ing the police officer out of the room ?"
Lady Janet's composure was proof even against this as-
sault on it. She gravely accepted Grace's inquiry as a ques-
tion addressed to her in perfect good faith.
" I am not at all surprised," she replied, " to find that my
adopted daughter's interference has exposed her to misrepre-
sentation. She ought to have remonstrated with me private-
ly before she interfered. But she has one fault she is too
impulsive. I have never, in all my experience, met with such
a warm-hearted person as she is. Always too considerate of
others ; always too forgetful of herself ! The mere appear-
ance of the police officer placed you in a situation to appeal
to her compassion, and her impulses carried her away as
usual My fault ! All my fault !"
Grace changed her tone once more. She was quick enough
to discern that Lady Janet was a match for her with her o\^ti
weapons.
" We have had enough of this," she said. " It is time to
be serious. Your adopted daughter (as you call her) is Mer-
cy Merrick, and you know it."
Lady Janet returned to her papers.
"I am Grace Roseberry, whose name she has stolen, and
you know thatP
11
234 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Lady Janet went on with her papers.
Grace got up from her chair.
"I accept your silence, Lady Janet," she said, "as an ac-
knowledgment of your deliberate resolution to suppress the
truth. You are evidently determined to receive the adven-
turess as the true woman ; anl you don't scruple to face the
consequences of that proceeding, by pretending to my face to
believe that I am mad. I will not allow myself to be impu-
dently cheated 9Ut of my rights in this way. You will hear
from me again, madam, when the Canadian mail amves in
England."
She walked toward the door. This time Lady Janet an-
swered, as readily and as explicitly as it was possible to de-
sire.
"I shall refuse to receive your letters," she said.
Grace returned a few steps, threateningly.
" My letters shall be followed by my witnesses," she pro-
ceeded.
" I shall refuse to receive your witnesses."
" Refuse at your peril. I will appeal to the law."
Lady Janet smiled.
" I don't pretend to much knowledge of the subject," she
said ; " but I should be surprised indeed if I discovered that
you had any claim on me which the law could enforce. How-
ever, let us suppose that you can set the law in action. Yon
know as well as I do that the only motive power which can
do that is money. I am rich ; fees, costs, and all the rest of
it are matters of no sort of consequence to me. May I ask if
you are in the same position ?"
The question silenced Grace. So far as money was con-
cerned, she was literally at the end of her resources. Her
oiily friends were friends in Canada. After what she had
said to him in the boudoir, it would be quite useless to ap-
peal to the sympathies of Julian Gray. In the pecuniary
sense, and in one word, she was absolutely incapable of grati-
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 235
fying her own vindictive longings. And there sat the mis-
tress of Mahlethorpe House, perfectly well aware of it.
Lady Janet pointed to the empty chair.
"Suppose you sit down again?" she suggested. "The
course of our interview seems to have brought us back to
the question that I asked you when you came into my room.
Instead of threatening me with the law, suppose you consid-
er the propriety of permitting me to be of some use to you.
I am in the habit of assisting ladies in embarrassed circum-
stances, and nobody knows of it but my steward who keeps
the accounts and myself. Once more, let me inquire if q
little advance of the pecuniary sort (delicately offered) would
be acceptable to you ?"
Grace returned slowly to the chair that she had left. She
stood by it, with one hand grasping the top rail, and with her
eyes fixed in mocking scrutiny on Lady Janet's face.
"At last your ladyship shows your hand," she said,
" Hush-money !"
" You will send me back to my papers," rejoined Lady Ja-
net. " How obstinate you are !"
Grace's hand closed tighter and tighter round the rail of
the chair. Without witnesses, without means, without so
much as a refuge thanks to her own coarse cruelties of lan-
guage and conduct in the sympathies of others, the sense of
her isolation and her helplessness was almost maddening at
that final moment. A woman of finer sensibilities would
have instantly left the room. Grace's impenetrably hard and
narrow mind impelled her to meet the emergency in a very
different way. A last base vengeance, to which Lady Janet
had voluntarily exposed herself, was still within her reach.
" For the present," she thought, " there is but one way of be
ing even with your ladyship. I can cost you as much as pos-
sible."
" Pray make some allowances for me," she said. " I am
not obstinate ^I am only a little awkward at matchiug the
236 TOE NEW MAGDALEN.
audacity of a lady of liigh rank. I shall improve with prac-
tice. My own language is, as I am painfully aware, only plain
English. Permit me to withdraw it, and to substitute yours.
What advance is your ladyship (delicately) prepared to offer
me?"
Lady Janet opened a drawer, and took out her check-book.
The moment of relief had come at last ! The only ques-
tion now left to discuss was evidently the question of
amount. Lady Janet considered a little. The question of
amount was (to her mind) in some sort a question of con-
science as well. Her love for Mercy and her loathing for
Grace, her horror of seeing her darling degraded and her af-
fection profaned by a public exposure, had hurried her there
was no disputing it into treating an injured woman harshly.
Hateful as Grace Roseberry might be, her father had left her,
in his last moments, with Lady Janet's full concurrence, to
Lady Janet's care. But for Mercy she would have been re-
ceived at Mablethorpe House as Lady Janet's companion,
with a salary of one hundred pounds a year. On the other
hand, how long (with such a temper as she had revealed)
would Grace have remained in the service of her protectress?
She would probably have been dismissed in a few weeks,
with a year's salary to compensate her, and with a recom-
mendation to some suitable employment. What would be a
fair compensation now ? Lady Janet decided that five years'
salary immediately given, and future assistance rendered if
necessary, would represent a fit remembrance of the late Col-
onel Roseberry's claims, and a liberal pecuniary acknowledg-
ment of any harshness of treatment which Grace might have
sustained at her hands. At the same time, and for the fur-
ther satisfying of her own conscience, she determined to dis-
cover the sum wljicli Grace herself would consider sufiicient
by the simple process of making Grace herself propose the
terms.
"It is impossible for mc to make you an offer," she said,
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 237
*^ for this reason your need of money will depend greatly on
your future plans. I am quite ignorant of your future plans."
"Perhaps your ladyship will kindly advise me?" said
Grace, satiiically.
"I can not altogether undertake to advise you," Lady Ja-
net replied. "I can only suppose that you will scarcely re-
main in England, where you have no friends. Whether you
go to law with me or not, you will surely feel the necessity
of communicating personally with your friends in Canada.
Am I right ?"
Grace was quite quick enough to understand this as it was
meant. Properly interpreted, the answer signified " If you
take your compensation in money, it is understood, as part of
the bargain, that you don't remain in England to annoy me."
" Your ladyship is quite right," she said. " I shall certain-
ly not remain in England. I shall consult my friends and,"
she added, mentally, " go to law with you afterward, if I pos-
sibly can, with your own money !"
"You will return to Canada," Lady Janet proceeded;
" and your prospects there w^ill be, probably, a little uncertain
at first. Taking this into consideration, at what amount do
you estimate, in your own mind, the pecuniary assistance
which you will require ?"
" May I count on your ladyship's kindness to correct me if
my own ignorant calculations turn out to be wrong ?" Grace
asked, innocently.
Here again the words, properly interpreted, had a special
signification of their own : " It is stipulated, on my part, that
I put myself up to auction, and that my estimate shall be
regulated by your ladyship's highest bid." Thoroughly un-
derstanding the stipulation, Lady Janet bowed, and waited
gravely.
Gravely, on her side, Grace began.
" I am afraid I should want more than a hundred pounds,"
she said.
238 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Lady Janet made her first bid. " I think so too.'*
" More, perhaps, than two hundred ?"
Lady Janet made her second bid. " Probably."
" More than three hundred ? Four hundred ? Five hun-
dred r
Lady Janet made her highest bid. " Five liundred pounds
will do," she said.
In spite of herself, Grace's rising color betrayed her un-
governable excitement. From her earliest childhood she had
been accustomed to see shillings and sixpences carefully con-
sidered before they were parted with. She had never known
her father to possess so much as five golden sovereigns at his
own disposal (unencumbered by debt) in all her experience of
him. The atmosphere in which she had lived and breathed
was the all-stifling one of genteel poverty. Thei*e was some-
thing horrible in the greedy eagerness of her eyes as they
watched Lady Janet, to see if she was really sufllciently in
earnest to give away five hundred pounds sterling with a
stroke of her pen.
Lady Janet wrote the check in a few seconds, and pushed
it across the table.
Grace's hungry eyes devoured the golden line, " Pay to my-
self or bearer five hundred pounds," and verified the signa-
ture beneath, " Janet Roy." Once sure of the money when-
ever she chose to take it, the native meanness of her nature
instantly asserted itself. She tossed her head, and let the
check lie on the table, with an overacted appearance of caring
very little whether she took it or not.
"Your ladyship is not to suppose that I snap at your
check," she said.
Lady Janet leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
The very sight of Grace Roseberry sickened her. Her mind
filled suddenly with the image of Mercy. She longed to feast
her eyes again on that grand beauty, to fill her ears again
with the melody of that gentle voice.
THE NEW MACiDALEX. 239
"I require time to consider in justice to my 0'vn self-
respect," Grace went on.
Lady Janet wearily made a sign, granting time to consider.
" Your ladyship's boudoir is, I presume, still at my dispo-
sal ?"
Lady Janet silently granted the boudoir.
" And your ladyship's servants are at my orders, if I have
occasion to employ them ?"
Lady Janet suddenly opened her eyes. " The whole house-
bold is at your orders !" she cried, furiously. " Leave me !"
Grace was far from being offended. If any thing, she was
gratified there was a certain triumph in having stung Lady
Janet into an open outbreak of temper. She insisted forth-
with on another condition.
" In the event of my deciding to receive the check," she
said, " I can not, consistently with my own self-respect, permit
it to be delivered to me otherwise than inclosed. Your la-
dyship will (if necessary) be so kind as to inclose it. Good-
evening."
She sauntered to the door, looking from side to side, with
an air of supreme disparagement, at the priceless treasures of
art which adorned the walls. Her eyes dropped suj)ercilious-
ly on the carpet (the design of a famous French painter), as if
her feet condescended in walking over it. The audacity with
which she had entered the room had been marked enough;
it shrank to nothing before the infinitely superior proportions
of the insolence with which she left it.
The instant the door was closed Lady Janet rose from her
chair. Reckless of the wintry chill in the outer air, she threw
open one of the windows. " Pah !" she exclaimed, with a
shudder of disgust, " the very air of the room is tainted
by her !"
She returned to her chair. Her mood changed as she sat
down again her heart was with Mercy once more. " Oh,
my love I" she murmured, " how low I have stooped, how
240 THE NEW MAGDALEX.
miserably I have degraded myself and all for You !" The
bitterness of the retrospect was unendurable. The inbred
force of the woman's nature took refuge from it in an oat-
burst of defiance and despair. '^ Whatever she has done, that
wretch deserves it ! Not a living creature in this house shall
say she has deceived me. She has not deceived me she
loves me I What do I care whether she has given me her
true name or not ! She has given me her true heart. What
right had Julian to play upon her feelings and pry into her
secrets ? My poor tempted, tortured child ! I won't hear
her confession. Not another word shall she say to any liv-
ing creature. I am mistress I will forbid it at once !" She
snatched a sheet of note-paper from the case; hesitated, and
threw it from her on the table. "Why not send for my
darling?" she thought. "Why write?" She hesitated once
more, and resigned the idea. " No ! I can't tnist myself ! I
daren't see her yet !"
She took up the sheet of paper again, and wrote her second
message to Mercy. This time the note began fondly with a
familiar form of address.
" My dezVr Child, I have had time to think, and compose
myself a little, since I last wrote, requesting you to defer the
explanation which you had promised me. I already under-
stand (and appreciate) the motives which led you to interfere
as you did down stairs, and I now ask you to entirely aban-
don the explanation. It will, I am sure, be painful to you
(for reasons of your own into which I have no wish to in-
quire) to produce the person of whom you spoke, and as you
know already, I myself am weary of hearing of her. Besides,
there is really no need now for you to explain any thing.
The stranger whose visits here have caused us so much pain
and anxiety will trouble us no more. She leaves England of
her own free-will, after a conversation with me which has
perfectly succeeded in composing and satisfying her. Not a
I
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 241
word more, my dear, to me, or to my nephew, or to any other
human creature, of what has happened in the dining-room to-
day. When we next meet, let it be understood between us
that the past is henceforth and forever buried in oblivion.
This is not only the earaest request it is, if necessary, the
positive command, of your mother and friend, Janet Roy.
"P.S. ^I shall find opportunities (before you leave your
room) of speaking separately to my nephew and to Horace
Holmcroft. You need dread no embarrassment, when ydu
next meet them. I will not ask you to answer my note in
writing. Say yes, to the maid who will bring it to you, and
I shall know we understand each other."
After sealing the envelope which inclosed these lines, Lady
Janet addressed it, as usual, to " Miss Grace Roseberi*y." She
was just rising to ring the bell, when the maid appeared with
a message from the boudoir. The woman's tones and looks
showed plainly that she had been made the object of Grace's
insolent self-assertion as well as her mistress.
" If you please, my lady, the person down stairs wishes "
Lady Janet, frowning contemptuously, interrupted the mes-
sage at the outset. " I know what the person down stairs
wishes. She has sent you for a letter from me ?"
" Yes, my lady."
"Any thing more ?"
" She has sent one of the men-servants, my lady, for a cab.
If your ladyship had only heard how she spoke to him !"
Lady Janet intimated by a sign that she would rather not
hear. She at once inclosed the check in an undirected en-
velope.
" Take that to her," she said, " and then come back to me."
Dismissing Grace lloseberry from all further consideration,
Lady Janet sat, with her letter to Mercy in her hand, reflect-
ing on her position, and on the efforts which it might still
demand from her. Pursuing this train of thought, it now
11*
242 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
occnrred to her that accident might bring Horace and Mercy
together at any moment, and that, in Horace's present frame
of mind, he would certainly insist on the very explanation
which it was the foremost interest of her life to suppress.
The dread of this disaster was in full possession of her when
th.e maid retuimed.
" Where is Mr. Holmcrof t ?" she asked, the moment the
woman entered the room.
"I saw him open the library door, my lady, just now, on
my way up staii-s."
Was he alone ?"
" Yes, my lady."
" Go to him, and say I want to see him here immediately."
The maid withdrew on her second errand. Lady Janet
rose restlessly, and closed the open window. Her impatient
desire to make sure of Horace so completely mastered her
that she left her room, and met the woman in the corridor on
her return. Receiving Horace's message of excuse, she in-
stantly sent back the peremptory rejoinder, " Say that he will
oblige me to go to him, if he persists in refusing to come to
me. And, stay !" she added, remembering the undelivered
letter. " Send Miss Roseberry's maid here ; I want her."
Left alone again, Lady Janet paced once or twice up and
down the corridor then grew suddenly weary of the sight
of it, and went back to her room. The two maids returned
together. One of them, having announced Horace's submis-
sion, was dismissed. The other was sent to Mercy's room,
with Lady Janet's letter. In a minute or two the messenger
appeared again, with the news that she had found the room
empty.
" Have you any idea where Miss Roseberry is ?"
" No, my lady."
Lady Janet reflected for a moment. If Horace presented
himself without any needless delay, the plain inference would
be that she had succeeded in separating him from Mercy. If
THB NBW MAGDALEN. 243
his appearance was suspiciously deferred, she decided on per-
sonally searching for Mercy in the reception-rooms on the
lower floor of the house.
" What have you done with the letter ?" she asked.
" I left it on Miss Roseberry's table, my lady."
" Very well. Keep within hearing of the bell, in case I
want you again."
Another minute brought Lady Janet's suspense to an end.
She heard the welcome sound of a knock at her door from a
man's hand. Horace hurriedly entered the room.
" What is it you want with me, Lady Janet?" he inquired,
not very graciously.
" Sit down, Horace, and you shall hear."
Horace did not accept the invitation. "Excuse ne," he
said, " if I mention that I am rather in a hurry."
" Why are you in a hurry ?"
"I liave reasons for wishing to see Grace as soon as pos-
sible."
"And 7" have reasons," Lady Janet rejoined, " for wishing
to speak to you about Grace before you see her ; serious rea-
sons. Sit down."
Horace started. " Serious reasons ?" he repeated. " You
surprise me."
" I ^hall surprise you still more before I have done."
Their eyes met as Lady Janet answered in those terms.
Horace observed signs of agitation in her, which he now no-
ticed for the first time. His face darkened with an expres-
sion of sullen distrust and he took the chair in silence.
244 THB KBW MAGDALBK.
CHAPTER XXIV.
LADY Janet's lettee.
The narrative leaves Lady Janet and Horace Holmcroft to
gether, and returns to Julian and Mercy in the library.
An interval passed a long interval, measured by the ini-
patient reckoning of suspense after the cab which had taken
Grace Roseberry away had left the house. The minutes fol-
lowed each other ; and still the warning sound of Horace's
footsteps was not heard on the marble pavement of the hall.
By common (though unexpressed) consent, Julian and Mercy
avoided touching upon the one subject on which they were
now both interested alike. With their thoughts fixed secret-
ly in vain speculation on the nature of the interview which
was then taking place in Lady Janet's room, they tried to
speak on topics indifferent to both of them tried, and failed,
and tried again. In a last and longest pause of silence be-
tween them, the next event happened. The door from the
hall was softly and suddenly opened.
Was it Horace ? No not even yet. The person who had
opened the door was only Mercy's maid.
" My lady's love, miss ; and will you please to read this di-
rectly ?"
Giving her message in those terms, the woman produced
from the pocket of her apron Lady Janet's second letter to
Mercy, with a strip of paper oddly pinned round the envelope.
Mercy detached the paper, and found on the inner side some
lines in pencil, hurriedly written in Lady Janet's hand. They
ran thus :
- THE NEW MAGDALEN. 245
"Don't lose a moment in reading my letter. And mind
this, when H. returns to yoa meet him firmly : say noth-
ing."
Enlightened by the warning words which Julian had spo-
ken to her, Mercy was at no loss to place the right interpreta-
tion on those strange lines. Instead of immediately opening
the letter, she stopped the maid at the libraiy door. Julian's
suspicion of the most trifling events that were taking place in
the house had found its way from his mind to hers. " Wait !"
she said. "I don't understand what is going on up stairs; I
want to ask you something."
The woman came back not very willingly.
" How did you know I was here ?" Mercy inquired.
" If you please, miss, her ladyship ordered me to take the
letter to you some little time since. You were not in your
room, and I left it on your'table "
" I understand that. But how came you to bring the let-
ter here?"
" My lady rang for me, miss. Before I could knock at her
door she came out into the corridor with that morsel of pa-
per in her hand "
" So as to keep you from entering her room ?"
"Yes, miss. Her ladyship wrote on the paper in a great
hurry, and told me to pin it round the letter tliat I had left
in your room. I was to take them both together to you, and
to let nobody see me. * You will find Miss Roseberry in the
library ' (her ladyship says), * and run, run, run ! there isn't a
moment to lose I' Those were her own words, miss."
"Did you hear any thing in the room before Lady Janet
came out and met you ?"
The woman hesitated, and looked at Julian.
"I hardly know whether I ought to tell you, miss."
Julian turned away to leave the library. Mercy stopped
him by a motion of her hand.
" You know that I shall not get you into any trouble," she
243 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Baid to the maid. '^And yoa may speak qnlte safely before
Mr. Julian Gray."
Thus re-assured, the maid spoke.
" To own the truth, miss, I heard Mr. Holmcroft in my
lady^s room. His voice sounded as if he was angiy. I may
say they were both angry Mr. Holmcroft and my lady."
(She turned to Julian.) ^'And just before her ladyship came
out, sir, I heard your name, as if it was you they were having
words about. I can't say exactly what it was ; I hadnH time
to hear. And I didn't listen, miss; the door was ajar; and
the voices were so loud nobody could help hearing them."
It was useless to detain the woman any longer. Having
given her leave to withdraw, Mercy turned to Julian.
"Why were they quarreling about you?" she asked.
Julian pointed to the unopened letter in her hand.
"The answer to your question may be there," he said.
" Read the letter while you have the chance. And if I can
advise you, say so at once."
Willi a strange reluctance she opened the envelope. With
a sinking heart she read the lines in which Lady Janet, as
" mother and friend," commanded her absolutely to suppress
the confession which she liad pledged herself to make in the
sacred interests of justice and truth. A low cry of despair
escaped her, as the cruel complication in her position reveal-
ed itself in all its unmerited hardship. "Oh, Lady Janet,
Lady Janet !" she thought, " there was but one trial more
left in my hard lot and it comes to me from yoit .'"
She handed the letter to Julian. He took it from her in
silence. His pale complexion turned paler still as he read it.
His eyes rested on her compassionately as he handed it back.
" To my mind," he said, " Lady Janet herself sets all fur-
ther doubt at rest. Her letter tells me what she wanted
when she sent for Horace, and why my name was mentioned
between them."
" Tell me !" cried Mercy, eagerly.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 247
He did not immediately answer her. He sat down again
in the chair by her side, and pointed to the letter.
" Has Lady Janet shaken your resolution ?" he asked.
"She has strengthened my resolution," Mercy answered.
" She has added a new bitterness to my remorse."
She did not mean it harshly, but the reply sounded harshly
in Julian's ears. It stirred the generous impulses, which were
the strongest impulses in his nature. He who had once plead-
ed with Mercy for compassionate consideration for herself
now pleaded with her for compassionate consideration for
Lady Janet. With persuasive gentleness he drew a little
nearer, and laid his hand on her arm.
" Don't judge her harshly," he said. " She is wrong, mis-
erably wrong. She has recklessly degraded herself; she has
recklessly tempted you. Still, is it generous is it even just
to hold her responsible for deliberate sin? She is at the
close of her days; she can feel no new affection; she can
never replace yon. View her position in that light, and you
will see (as I see) that it is no base motive which has led her
astray. Think of her wounded heart and her wasted life
and say to yourself forgivingly. She loves me !"
Mercy's eyes filled with tears.
" I do say it !" she answered. " Not forgivingly it is I
who have need bf forgiveness. I say it gratefully when I
think of her I say it with shame and sorrow when I think
of myself."
He took her hand for the first time. He looked, guiltless-
ly looked, at her downcast face. He spoke as he had spoken
at the memorable interview between them which had made a
new woman of her.
" I can imagine no cruder trial," he said, " than the trial
that is now before you. The benefactress to whom you owe
every thing asks nothing from you but your silence. The
person whom you have wronged is no longer present to stim-
ulate your resolution to speak. Horace himself (unless I am
248 THE NSW UAGDAUSH.
m
entirely mistaken) will not hold yon to the explanation that
you have promised. The temptation to keep your false posi-
tion in this house is, I do not scruple to say, all but irresistir
ble. Sister and friend ! can you still justify my faith in you?
WiU you still own the truth, without the base fear bf discoY-
ery to drive you to it?"
She lifted her head, with the steady light of resolution
shining again in her grand gray eyes. Her low, sweet voice
answered him, without a faltering note in it,
I wUl !''
" You will do justice to the woman whom you have wronged
unworthy as she is ; powerless as she is to expose you ?"
" I will !"
"You will sacrifice every thing you have gained by the
fraud to the sacred duty of atonement ? You will suffer any
thing even though you offend the second mother who has
loved you and sinned for you rather than suffer the degra-
dation of yourself ?"
Ilcr haiul closed firmly on his. Again, and for the last time,
she answered,
" I will !"
His voice had not trembled yet. It failed him now. His
next words were spoken in faint whispering tones to him-
self ; not to her.
" Thank God for this day !" he said. " I have been of
some service to one of the noblest of God's creatures !"
Some subtle influence, as he spoke, passed from his hand
to hers. It trembled through her nerves ; it entwined itself
mysteriously Avith the finest sensibilities in her nature; it
softly opened her heart to a first vague surmising of the de-
votion that she had inspired in him. A faint glow of color,
lovely in its faintness, stole over her face and neck. Her
breathing quickened tremblingly. She drew her hand away
from him, and sighed when she had released it.
He rose suddenly to his feet and left her, without a word
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 249
or a look, walldng slowly down the length of the room.
When he turned and came back to her, his face was com-
posed ; he was master of himself again.
Mercy was the first to speak. She turned the conversation
from herself by reverting to the proceedings in Lady Janet's
room.
"You spoke of Horace just now," she said, "in terms
which surprised me. You appeared to think that he would
not hold me to my explanation. Is that one of the conclu-
sions which you draw from Lady Janet's letter ?"
"Most assuredly," Julian answered. "You will see the
conclusion as I see it if we return for a moment to Grace
Roseberry's departure from the house."
Mercy interrupted him there. "Can you guess," she
asked, " how Lady Janet prevailed upon her to go ?"
" I hardly like to own it," said Julian. " There is an ex-
pression in the letter which suggests to me that Lady Janet
has offered her money, and that she has taken the bribe."
"Oh, I can't think that!"
"Let us return to Horace. Miss Roseberry once out of
the house, but one serious obstacle is left in Lady Janet's way.
That obstacle is Horace Holmcroft."
" How is Horace an obstacle ?"
" He is an obstacle in this sense. He is under an engage-
ment to marry you in a week's time ; and Lady Janet is de-
termined to keep him (as she is determined to keep every
one else) in ignorance of the truth. She will do that without
scruple. But the inbred sense of honor in her is not utterly
silenced yet. She can not, she dare not, let Horace make
you his wife under the false impression that you are Colonel
Roseberry's daughter. You see the situation ? On the one
hand, she won't enlighten him. On the other hand, she can
not allow him to marry you blindfold. In this emergency
what is she to do ? There is but one alternative that I can
250 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
discover. She must persuade Horace (or she must irritate
Horace) into acting for himself, and breaking off the engage-
ment on his own responsibility."
Mercy stopped hira. " Impossible !" she cried, warmly.
^Impossible!"
"Look again at her letter," Julian rejoined. " It tells you
plainly that you need fear no embarrassment when you next
meet Horace. If words mean any thing, those words mean
that he will not claim from you the confidence which you
have promised to repose in him. On what condition is it
possible for him to abstain from doing that? On the one
condition that you have ceased to represent the first and fore-
most interest of his life."
Mercy still held firm. " You are wronging Lady Janet,"
she said.
Julian smiled sadly.
"Try to look at it," he answered, "from Lady Janet's point
of view. Do you suppose she sees any thing derogatory to
her in attempting to break off the marriage? I will answer
for it, she believes she is doing you a kindness. In one sense
it would be a kindness to spare you the shame of a humilia-
ting confession, and to save you (possibly) from being rejected
to your face by the man you love. In my opinion, the thing
is done already. I have reasons of my own for believing that
my aunt will succeed far more easily than she could antici--
pate. Horace's temper will help her."
Mercy's mind began to yield to him, in spite of herself.
" What do you mean by Horace's temper ?" she inquired.
"Must you ask me that?" he said, drawing back a little
from her.
"I must. '
"I mean by Horace's temper, Horace's unworthy distrust
of the interest that I feel in you."
She instantly understood him. And more than that, she
secretly admired him for the scrupulous delicacy with which
THE NEW UAGDALEN. 251
he had expressed himself. Another man would not have
thought of sparing her in that way. Another man would
have said, plainly, " Horace is jealous of me."
Julian did not wait for her to answer him. He consider-
ately went on.
" For the reason that I have just mentioned," he said, " Hor-
ace will be easily irritated into taking a course which, in his
calmer moments, nothing would induce him to adopt. Until
I heard what your maid said to you I had thought (for your
sake) of retiring before he joined you here. Now I know
that my name has been introduced, and has made mischief
up stairs, I feel the necessity (for your sake again) of meeting
Horace and his temper face to face before you see him. Let
me, if I can, prepare him to hear you without any angry feel-
ing in his mind toward you. Do you object to retire to the
next room for a few minutes in the event of his coming back
to the library ?"
Mercy's courage instantly rose with the emergency. She
refused to leave the two men together.
"Don't think me insensible to your kindness," she said.
" If I leave you with Horace I may expose you to insult. I
refuse to do that. What makes you doubt his coming back ?"
" His prolonged absence makes me doubt it," Julian replied.
" In my belief, the marriage is broken off. He may go as
Grace Roseberry has gone. You may never see him again."
The instant the opinion was uttered, it was practically con-
tradicted by the man himself. Horace opened the library
door.
252 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
CHAPTER XXV.
THB CONFESSION.
He stopped just inside the door. His first look was for
Mercy ; his second look was for Julian.
" I knew it !" he said, with an assumption of sardonic com*
posure. " If I could only have persuaded Lady Janet to bet,
I should have won a hundred pounds." He advanced to Ju-
lian, with a sudden change from irony to anger. " Would
you like to hear what the bet was ?" he asked.
" I should prefer seeing you able to control yourself in the
presence of this lady," Julian answered, quietly.
" I offered to lay Lady Janet two hundred pounds to one,"
Horace proceeded, " that I should find you here, making love
to Miss Roseberry behind my back."
Mercy interfered before Julian could reply.
" If you can not speak without insulting one of us," she
said, " permit me to request that you will not address your-
self to Mr. Julian Gray."
Horace bowed to her with a mockery of respect.
" Pray don't alarm yourself I am pledged to be scru-
pulously civil to both of you," he said. " Lady Janet only
allowed me to leave her on condition of my promising to be-
have with perfect politeness. What else can I do ? I have
two privileged people to deal with a parson and a woman.
The parson's profession protects him, and the woman's sex
protects her. You have got me at a disadvantage, and you
both of you know it. I beg to apologize if I have forgotten
the clergyman's profession and the lady's sex.
" You have forgotten more than that," said Julian. " You
have forgotten that you were born a gentleman and bred a
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 253
man of honor. So far as I am concerned, I don't ask you to
remember that I am a clergyman I obtrude my profession
on nobody I only ask you to remember your birth and your
breeding. It is quite bad enough to cruelly and unjustly
suspect an old friend who has never forgotten what he
owes to you and to himsell But it is still more unworthy
of you to acknowledge those suspicions in the hearing of a
woman whom your own choice has doubly bound you to re-
spect."
He stopped. The two eyed each other for a moment in
silence.
It was impossible for Mercy to look at them, as she was
looking now, without drawing the inevitable comparison be-
tween the manly force and dignity of Julian and the woman-
ish malice and irritability of Horace. A last faithful impulse
of loyalty toward the man to whom she had been betrothed
impelled her to part them, before Horace had hopelessly do-
graded himself in her estimation by contrast with Julian.
" You had better wait to speak to me," she said to him,
** until we are alone,"
" Certainly," Horace answered, with a sneer, " if Mr. Ju-
lian Gray will permit it"
Mercy turned to Julian, with a look which said plainly,
" Pity us both, and leave us !"
" Do you wish me to go," he asked.
**Add to all your other kindnesses to me," she answered.
** Wait for me in that room."
She pointed to the door that led into the dining-room. Ju-
lian hesitated.
** You promise to let me know it if I can be of the smallest
service to you ?" he said.
" Yes, yes !" She followed him as he withdrew, and added,
rapidly, in a whisper, " Leave the door ajar !"
He made no answer. As she returned to Horace he enter-
ed the dining-room. The one concession he could make to
254 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
her he did make. He closed the door so noiselessly that not
even her quick hearing could detect that he had shut it.
Mercy spoke to Horace, without waiting to let him speak
first.
" I have promised you an explanation of my conduct," she
said, in accents that trembled a little in spite of herself. ^^I
am ready to perform ray promise."
" I have a question to ask you before you do that," he re-
joined. " Can you speak the truth ?"
" I am waiting to speak the truth."
" I will give you an opportunity. Are you or are you not
in love with Julian Gray ?"
" You ought to be ashamed to ask the question !"
" Is that your only answer ?"
"I have never been unfaithful to you, Horace, even in
thought. If I had not been true to you, should I feel my po-
sition as you see I feel it now ?"
He smiled bitterly. "I have my own opinion of your
fidelity and of his honor," he said. " You couldn't even send
him into the next room without whispering to him first.
Never mind that now. At least you know that Julian Gray
is in love with you."
"Mr. Julian Gray has never breathed a word of it to mc."
"A man can show a woman that he loves her, without say-
ins: it in words."
Mercy's power of endurance began to fail her. Not even
Grace Koseberry h;ul sj)oken more insultingly to her of Ju-
lian than Horace was speaking now. " Whoever says that
of Mr. Julian Gray, lies !" she answered, warmly.
"Then Ladv Janet lies " Horace retorted.
" Lady Janet never said it ! Lady Janet is incapable of
saying it!"
" She may not have said it in so many words ; but she nev-
er denied it when Zsaid it. I reminded her of the time when
Julian Gray first heard from me that I was going to marry
THE NEW MAGDALEN, 255
you : he was so overwhelmed that he was barely capable of
being civil to me. Lady Janet was present, and could not
deny it, I asked her if she had observed, since then, signs
of a confidential understanding between you two. She could
not deny the signs. I asked if she had ever found you two
together. She could not deny that she had found you to-
gether, this very day, under circumstances which justified
suspicion. Yes ! yes ! Look as angry as you like ! you
don't know what has been going on up stairs. Lady Janet is
bent on breaking off our engagement and Julian Gray is at
the bottom of it."
As to Julian, Horace was utterly wrong. But as to Lady
Janet, he echoed the warning words which Julian himself
had spoken to Mercy. She was staggered, but she still held
to her own opinion, " I don't believe it," she said, firmly.
He advanced a step, and fixed his angry eyes on her
searchingly.
" Do you know why Lady Janet sent for me ?" he asked,
" No."
" Then I will tell you. Lady Janet is a staunch friend of
yours, there is no denying that. She wished to inform me
that she had altered her mind about^ your promised explana-
tion of your conduct. She said, * Reflection has convinced
me that no explanation is required ; I have laid my positive
commands on my adopted daughter that no explanation shall
take place.' Has she done that ?"
Tes."
** Now observe ! I waited till she had finished, and then
I said, * What have I to do with this ?' Lady Janet has one
merit she speaks out. *Tou are to do as I do,' she an-
swered. *Tou are to consider that no explanation is re-
quired, and you are to consign the whole matter to oblivion
from this time forth.' *Are you serious?' I asked. 'Quite
serious.' * In that case I have to inform your ladyship that
yon insist on more than yon may suppose : you insist on my
256 THE NEW MAGDALEN,
breaking my engagement to Miss Roseberry, Either I am
to have the explanation that she has promised me, or I refuse
to marry her.' How do you think Lady Janet took that?
She shut up her lips, and she spread out her hands, and she
looked at me as much as to say, ^ Just as you please ! Refuse
if you like ; it's nothing to me 1' "
He paused for a moment. Mercy remained silent, on her
side : she foresaw what was coming. Mistaken in supposing
that Horace had left the house, Julian had, beyond all doubt,
been equally in error in concluding that he had been en-
trapped into breaking oft the engagement up stairs.
" Do you understand me so far ?" Horace asked,
" I understand you perfectly."
"I will not trouble you much longer," he resumed. "I
said to Lady Janet, * Be so good as to answer me in plain
words. Do you still insist on closing Miss Roseberry's lips ?'
^ I still insist,' she answered. ^ No explanation is required.
If you are base enough to suspect your betrothed wife, I am
just enough to believe in my adopted daughter.' I replied
and I beg you will give your best attention to what I am
now going to say I replied to that, * It is not fair to charge
me with suspecting her. I don't understand her confidential
relations with Julian Gray, and I don't understand her lan-
guage and conduct in the presence of the police officer. I
claim it as my right to be satisfied on both those points in
the character of the man who is to marry her.' There was
my answer. I spare you all that followed. I only repeat
what I said to Lady Janet. She has commanded you to be
silent. If you obey her commands, I owe it to myself and I
owe it to my family to release you from your engagement
Choose between your duty to Lady Janet and your duty to
Me."
He had mastered his temper at last : he spoke with dignity,
and he spoke to the point. His position was unassailable;
he claimed nothing but his right.
THS NEW MAGDALBN. 251
"My choice was made," Mercy answered, "when I gave
you my promise up stairs."
She waited a little, struggling to control herself on the
brink of the terrible revelation that was coming. Her eyes
dropped before his ; her heart beat faster and faster ; but she
struggled bravely. With a desperate courage she faced the
position. "If you are ready to listen," she went on, "I am
ready to tell you why I insisted on having the police oflScer
sent out of the house."
Horace held up his hand wamingly.
" Stop 1" he said ; " that is not aU."
His infatuated jealousy of Julian (fatally misinterpreting
her agitation) distrusted her at the very outset. She had
limited herself to clearing up the one question of her inter-
ference with the officer of justice. The other question of her
relations with Julian she had deliberately passed over, Hor-
ace instantly drew his own ungenerous conclusion.
" Let us not misunderstand one another," he said. " The
explanation of your conduct in the other room is only one of
the explanations which you owe me. You have something
else to account for. Let us begin with that, if you please."
She looked at him in unaffected surprise.
"What else have I to account for ?" she asked.
He again repeated his reply to Lady Janet.
" I have told you already," he said. " I don't understand
your confidential relations with Julian Gray."
Mercy's color rose ; Mercy's eyes began to brighten.
" Don't return to that !" she cried, with an irrepressible out-
break of disgust. " Don't, for Gkd's sake, make me despise
you at such a moment as this !"
His obstinacy only gathered fresh encouragement from that
appeal to his better sense.
"I insist on returning to it."
She had resolved to bear any thing from him as her fit
punishment for the deception of which she had been guilty.
12
258 THE NSW MAGDALEX.
But it was uot in womanhood (at the moment when the first
words of her confession were trembling on her lips) to endure
Horace's unworthy suspicion of her. She rose from her seat
and met his eye firmly.
"I refuse to degrade myself, and to degrade Mr. Julian
Gray, by answering yon," she said.
"Consider what you are doing," he rejoined. "Change
your mind, before it is too late I"
" You have had my reply."
Those resolute words, that steady resistance, seemed to in-
furiate him. He caught her roughly by the arm.
" You are as false as hell !" he cried, " It's all over be-
tween you and me !"
The loud threatening tone in which he had spoken penetra-
ted through the closed door of the dining-room. The door
instantly opened. Julian returned to the library.
He had just set foot in the room, when there was a knock
at the other door the door that opened on the hall. One of
the men-servants appeared, with a telegraphic message in his
hand. Mercy was the first to see it. It was the Matron's
answer to the letter which she had sent to the Refuge.
" For Mr. Julian Gray ?" she asked.
" Yes, miss."
" Give it to me."
She signed to the man to withdraw, and herself gave the
telegram to Julian. " It is addressed to you, at my request,"
she said. " You will recognize the name of the person who
sends it, and you will find a message in it for me."
Horace interfered before Julian could open the telegram.
" Another private understanding between you !" ho said.
" Give rac that telegram."
Julian looked at him with quiet contempt.
" It is divccted to Me," he answered and opened the en-
v('loj)e.
The message inside was expressed in these terms : " I am
THE KEW MAGDALEN. 259
as deeply interested in her as you are. Say that I have re-
ceived her letter, and that I welcome her back to the Refuge
with all my heart. I have business this evening in the neigh-
borhood. I will call for her myself at Mablethorpe House."
The message explained itself. Of her own free-will she
had made the expiation complete 1 Of her own free-will she
was going back to the martyrdom of her old life ! Bound as
he knew himself to be to let no compromising word or action
escape him in the presence of Horace, the irrepressible ex-
pression of Julian's admiration glowed in his eyes as they
rested on Mercy. Horace detected the look. He sprang for-
ward and tried to snatch the telegram out of Julian's hand.
" Give it to me 1" he said. " I will have it !"
Julian silently put him back at arms-length.
Maddened with rage, he lifted his hand threateiiingl}'.
" Give it to me !" he repeated between his set teeth, " or it
will be the worse for you !"
" Give it to me/" said Mercy, suddenly. placing herself be-
tween them.
Julian gave it. She turned, and offered it to Horace, look-
ing at him with a steady eye, holding it out to him with a
steady hand.
" Read it," she said,
Julian's generous nature pitied the man who had insulted
him. Julian's great heart only remembered the friend of
former times.
"Spare him!" he said to Mercy, "Remember he is un-
prepared."
She neither answered nor moved. Nothing stirred the
horrible torpor of her resignation to her fate. She knew
that the time had come.
Julian appealed to Horace.
" Don't read it !" he cried. " Hear what she has to say to
you first !"
Horace's hand answered him with a contemptuous ges-
260 THE NEW HAGDALEN.
ture. Horace's eyes devoured, word by word, the Matron's
message.
He looked up when he had read it through. There was a
ghastly change in his face as he turned it on Mercy.
She stood between the two men like a statue. The life in
her seemed to have died out, except in her eyes. Her eyes
rested on Horace with a steady, glittering calmness.
The silence was only broken by the low murmuring of Ju-
lian's voice. His face was hidden in his hands he was pray-
ing for them.
Horace spoke, laying his finger on the telegram. His voice
had changed with the change in his face. The tone was low
and trembling : no one would have recognized it as the tone
of Horace's voice.
"What does this mean?" he said to Mercy. "It can't be
for you ?"
" It is for me."
" What have You to do with a Refuge ?"
Without a cliange in her face, without a movement in her
limbs, she spoke the fatal words :
" I have come from a Refuge, and I am going back to a
Refuge. Mr. Horace Holmcroft, I am Mercy Merrick."
CHAPTER XXVL
GREAT HEART AND LITTLE UEART.
There was a pause.
The moments passed and not one of the three moved.
The moments passed and not one of the three spoke. In-
sensibly the words of supplication died away on Julian's lips.
Even his energy failed to sustain him, tried as it now was by
the crushing opj)rcssion of suspense. The first trifling move-
ment which suggested the idea of change, and which so
brought with it the first vague sense of relief, came from Mer-
THE KBW MA6DALEK. 261
cy. Incapable of sustaining the prolonged effort of standing,
she drew back a little and took a chair. No outward mani-
festation of emotion escaped her. There she sat with the
death-like torpor of resignation in her face waiting her sen-
tence in silence from the man at whom she had hurled the
whole terrible confession of the truth in one sentence !
Julian lifted his head as she moved. He looked at Horace,
and advancing a few steps, looked again. There was fear in
his face, as he suddenly turned it toward Mercy.
" Speak to him !" he said, in a whisper. " Rouse him, be-
fore it's too late !"
She moved mechanically in her chair ; she looked mechan-
ically at Julian.
" What more have I to say to him ?" she asked, in faint,
weary tones. " Did I not tell him every thing when I told
him my name ?"
The natural sound of her voice might have failed to affect
Horace. The altered sound of it roused him. He approached
Mercy's chair, with a dull surprise in his face, and put his
hand, in a weak, wavering way on her shoulder. In that po-
sition he stood for a while, looking down at her in silence.
The one idea in him that found its way outward to expres-
sion was the idea of Julian. Without moving his hand, with-
out looking up from Mercy, he spoke for the first time since
the shock had fallen on him.
" Where is Julian ?" he asked, very quietly.
" I am here, Horace close by you."
" Will you do me a service ?"
" Certainly, How can I help you ?"
He considered a little before he replied. His hand left
Mercy's shoulder, and went up to his head then dropped at
his side. His next words were spoken in a sadly helpless, be-
wildered way.
" I have an idea, Julian, that I have been somehow to blame.
I said some hard words to you. It was a little while since.
262 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
I don't clearly remember what it was all about. My temper
has been a good deal tried in this house ; I liave never been
used to the sort of thing that goes on here secrets and mys-
teries, and hateful low-lived quarrels. We have no secrets
and mysteries at home. And as for quarrels ridiculous!
My mother and my sisters are highly bred women (you know
them) ; gentlewomen, in the best sense of the word. When
I am with them I have no anxieties. I am not harassed at
home by doubts of who people are, and confusion about
names, and so on. I suspect the contrast weighs a little on
my mind, and upsets it. They make me oversuspicious
among them here, and it ends in my feeling doubts and fears
that I can't get over : doubts about you and fears about my-
self. I have got a fear about myself now. I want you to
help me. Shall I make an apology first?"
" Don't say a word. Tell me what I can do."
He turned his face toward Julian for the first time.
"Just look at me," he said. "Does it strike you that I am
at all wrong in ray mind ? Tell me the truth, old fellow."
" Your nerves are a little shaken, Horace. Nothing more."
He considered again after that reply, his eyes remaining
anxiously fixed on Julian's face.
"My nerves are a little shaken," he repeated. "That is
true ; I feel they are shaken. I should like, if you don't
mind, to make sure that it's no worse. Will you help me to
try if my memory is all right ?"
" I will do any thing you like."
"Ah ! you are a good fellow, Julian and a clear-headed
fellow too, which is very important just now. Look here ! I
say it's about a week since the troubles began in this house.
Do you say so too ?"
" Yes."
" The troubles came in with the coming of a woman from
Germany, a stranger to us, who behaved very violently in the
dining-room there. Am I right, so far ?"
THE NEW MAGDALEN, 263
" Quite right."
"The woman carried matters with a high hand. She
claimed Colonel Roseberry no, I wish to be strictly accurate
she claimed the late Colonel Roseberry as her father. She
told a tiresome story about her having beien robbed of her
papers and her name by an impostor who had personated her.
She said the name of the impostor was Mercy Merrick. And
she afterward put the climax to it all : she pointed to the lady
who is engaged to be my wife, and declared that she was
Mercy Merrick. Tell me again, is that right or wrong ?"
Julian answered him as before. He went on, speaking
more confidently and more excitedly than he had spoken yet,
" Now attend to this, Julian. I am going to pass from my
memory of what happened a week ago to my memory of
what happened five minutes since. You were present; I
want to know if you heard it too." He paused, and, with-
out taking his eyes ofE Julian, pointed backward to Mercy.
" There is the lady who is engaged to marry me," he resumed,
" Did I, or did I not, hear her say that slfe had come out of
a Refuge, and that she was going back to a Refuge ? Did
T, or did I not, hear her own^ to my face that her name was
Mercy Merrick? Answer me, Julian. My good friend, an-
swer me, for the sake of old times."
His voice faltered as he spoke those imploring words. Un-
der the dull blank of his face there appeared the first signs
of emotion slowly forcing its way outward. The stunned
mind was reviving faintly. Julian saw his opportunity of
aiding the recovery, and seized it. He took Horace gently
by the arm, and pointed to Mercy.
"There is your answer!" he said. "Look! and pity
her."
She had not once interrupted them while they had been
fipeaking : she had changed her position again, and that was
all. There was a writing-table at the side of her chair ; her
outstretched arms rested on it. Her head had dropped on
264 . THE NEW MAGDALEN.
her arms, and her face was hidden. Julian's jadgment had
not misled him ; the utter self-abandonment of her attitude
answered Horace as no human language could have answered
him. He looked at her. A quick spasm of pain passed
across his face. He turned once more to the faithful friend
who had forgiven him. His head fell on Julian's shoulder,
and he burst into tears.
Mercy started wildly to her feet^ and looked at the two
men.
" O God !" she cried, " what have I done !"
Julian quieted her by a motion of his hand.
" You have helped me to save him," he said. " Let his
tears have their way. Wait."
He put one arm round Horace to support him. The man-
ly tenderness of the action, the complete and noble pardon of
past injuries which it implied^ touched Mercy to the heart.
She went back to her chair. Again shame and sorrow over-
powered her, and again she hid her face from view.
Julian led Horace to a seat, and silently waited by him
until he had recovered his self-control. He gratefully took
the kind hand that had sustained him : he said, simply, al-
most boyishly, " Thank yon, Julian. I am better now."
"Are you composed enough to listen to what is said to
you ?" Julian asked.
" Yes. Do you wish to speak to me ?"
Julian left him without immediately replying, and returned
to Mercy.
" The time has come," he said. " Tell him all truly, un-
reservedly, as you would tell it to me."
She shuddered as he spoke. "Have I not told him
enough ?" she asked. " Do you want me to break his heart ?
Look at him ! Look what I have done already !"
Horace shrank from the ordeal as Mercy shrank from it.
" No, no ! I can't listen to it ! I daren't listen to it !" he
cried, and rose to leave the room.
THB KEW MAGDALEN. 265
Julian had taken the good work in hand : he never fahered
over it for an instant. Horace had loved her how dearly
Julian now knew for the first time. The bare possibility
that she might earn her pardon if she was allowed to plead
her own cause was a possibility still left. To let her win on
Horace to forgive her, was death to the love that still filled
bis heart in secret. But he never hesitated. With a resolu-
tion which the weaker man was powerless to resist, he took
him by the arm, and led him back to his place.
" For her sake, and for your sake, you shall not condemn
her unheard," he said to Horace, firmly. " One temptation
to deceive you after another has tried her, and she has re-
sisted them all. With no discovery to fear, with a letter
from the benefactress who loves her commanding her to be
silent, with every thing that a woman values in this world to
lose, if she owns what she has done this woman, for the
truth's sake, has spoken the truth. Does she deserve noth-
ing at your hands in return for that? Respect her, Horace
and hear her."
Horace yielded. Julian turned to Mercy.
"Ton have allowed me to guide you so far," he said.
" Will you allow me to guide you still ?"
Her eyes sank before his ; her bosom rose and fell rapidly.
His influence over her maintained its sway. She bowed her
head in speechless submission.
" Tell him," Julian proceeded, in accents of entreaty, not
of command-*-" tell him what your life has been. Tell him
how you were tried and tempted, with no friend near to speak
the words which might have saved you. And then," he add-
ed, raising her from the chair, " let him judge you ^if he
can I"
He attempted to lead her across the room to the place
which Horace occupied. But her submission had its limits.
Half-way to the place she stopped, and refused to go farther.
Julian offered her a chair. She declined to take it. Stand-
12*
266 THE NBW MAGDALKV.
ing with one hand on the back of the chair, she waited for
the word from Horace which woald permit her to speak.
She was resigned to the ordeal. Her face was cahn ; her
mind was clear. The hardest of all hnmiliations to endare
the humiliation of acknowledging her name she had passed
throagh. Nothing remained bat to show her gratitade to
Julian by acceding to his wishes, and to ask pardon of Hor-
ace before they parted forever. In a little while the Matron
would arrive at the house and then it would be over.
Unwillingly Horace looked at her. Their eyes met. He
broke out suddenly with something of his former violence.
"I can't realize it even now I" he cried. "7 it true that
you are not Grace Roseberry ? Don't look at me ! Say in
one word Yes or No I"
She answered him, humbly and sadly, " Yes."
" You have done what that woman accused you of doing?
Am I to believe that ?"
" You are to believe it, sir."
All the weakness of Horace's character disclosed itself when
she made that reply.
" Infamous !" he exclaimed. " What excuse can you make
for the cruel deception you have practiced on me ? Too bad !
too bad ! There can be no excuse for you !"
She accepted his reproaches with unshaken resignation.
" I have deserved it !" was all she said to herself, " I have
deserved it !"
Julian interposed once more in Mercy's defense.
" Wait till you are sure there is no excuse for her, Horace,"
he said, quietly. " Grant her j ustice, if you can grant no
more. I leave you together."
He advanced toward the door of the dining-room. Hor-
ace's weakness disclosed itself once more.
" Don't leave me alone with her !" he burst out. " The mis-
ery of it is more than I can bear !"
Julian looked at Mercy. Her face brightened faintly. That
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 267
momentary expression of relief told him how truly he would
be befriending her if he consented to remain in the room. A
position of retirement was offered to him by a recess formed
by the central bay-window of the library. If he occupied this
place, they could see or not see that he was present, as their
own inclinations might decide them.
" I will stay with you, Horace, as long as you wish me to
be here." Having answered in those terms, he stopped as ho
passed Mercy, on his way to the window. His quick and
kindly insight told him that he might still be of some service
to her. A hint from him might show her the shortest and
tlie easiest way of making her confession. Delicately and
briefly he gave her the hint. " The first time I met you," he
said, ^^ I saw that your life had had its troubles. Let us hear
how those troubles began."
He withdrew to his place in the recess. For the first time,
since the fatal evening when she and Grace Roseberry had
met in the French cottage, Mercy Merrick looked back into
the purgatory on earth of her past life, and told her sad story
simply and truly in these words.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Magdalen's appbenticeship.
" Mb. Juldln Gbay has asked me to tell him, and to tell
you, Mr. Holmcroft, how my troubles began. They began
before my recollection. They began with ray birth.
" My mother (as I have heard her say) ruined her pros-
pects, when she was quite a young girl, by a marriage with
one of her father's servants the groom who rode out with
her. She suffered, poor creature, the usual penalty of such
conduct as hers. After a short time she and her husband
were separated on the condition of her sacrificing to the
268 THB NBW MAGDALSK.
man whom she had married the whole of the little fortnne
that she possessed in her own right.
'' Gaining her freedom, my mother had to gain her daily
bread next. Her family refased to take her back She at-
tached herself to a company of strolling players.
^' She was earning a bare living in this way, when my fa-
ther accidentally met with her. He was a man of high rank,
proud of his position, and well known in the society of that
time for his many accomplishments and his refined tastes.
My mother's beauty fascinated him. He took her from the
strolling players, and surrounded her with every luxury that
a woman could desire in a house of her own.
" I don't know how long they lived together. I only know
that my father, at the time of my first recollections, had aban-
doned her. She had excited his suspicions of her fidelity
suspicions which cruelly wronged her, as she declared to
her dying day. I believed her, because she was my moth-
er. But I can not expect others to do as I did I can
only repeat what she said. My father left her absolute-
ly penniless. lie never saw her again ; and he refused
to go to her when she sent to him in her last moments on
earth.
" She was back again among the strolling players when I
first remember her. It was not an unhappy time for me. I
was the favorite pet and plaything of the poor actors. They
taught me to sing and to dance at an age when other children
are just beginning to learn to read. At five years old I was
in what is called * the profession,' and had made my poor li^
tie reputation in booths at country fairs. As early as that,
Mr. Ilolmcroft, I had begun to live under an assumed name
the prettiest name they could invent for me ^ to look well in
the bills.' It was sometimes a hard struggle for us, in bad
seasons, to keep body and soul together. Learning to sing
and dance in public often meant learning to bear hunger and
cold in })rivate, when I was apprenticed to the stage. And
THB NBW MAGDALEN. 269
yet I have lived to look back on my days with the strolling
players as the happiest days of my life !
" I was ten years old when the first serious misfortune that
I can remember fell upon me. My mother died, worn out in
the prime of her life. And not long afterward the strolling
company, brought to the end of its resources by a succession
of bad seasons, was broken up.
" I was left on the world, a nameless, penniless outcast, with
one fatal inheritance God knows, I can speak of it without
vanity, after what I have gone through ! the inheritance of
my mother's beauty.
" My only friends were the poor starved-out players. Two
of them (husband and wife) obtained engagements in another
company, and I was included in the bargain. The new man-
ager by whom I was employed was a drunkard and a brute.
One night I made a trifling mistake in the course of the per-
formances and I was savagely beaten for it. Perhaps I had
inherited some of my father's spirit ^without, I hope, also in-
heriting my father's pitiless nature. However that may be, I
resolved (no matter what became of me) never again to serve
the man who had beaten me, I unlocked the door of our
miserable lodging at day-break the next morning ; and, at ten
years old, with my little bundle in my hand, I faced the world
alone.
" My mother had confided to me, in her last moments, my
father's name and the address of his house in London. * He
may feel some compassion for you ' (she said), ^ though he
feels none for me : try him.' I had a few shillings, the last
pitiful remains of my wages, in my pocket ; and I was not far
from London. But I never went near my father : child as I
was, I would have starved and died rather than go to him.
I had loved my mother dearly ; and I hated the man who
had turned his back on her when she lay on her death-bed.
It made no difference to Me that he happened to be my
father.
270 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
"Does this confession revolt you? You look at me, Mr,
Holm croft, as if it did.
"Think a little, sir. Does what I have just said condemn
rae as a heartless creature, even in my earliest years ? What
is a father to a child when the child has never sat on his
knee, and never had a kiss or a present from him ? If we had
met in the street, wo should not have known each other.
Perhaps in after-days, when I was starving in London, I may
have begged of my father without knowing it ; and he may
have thrown his daughter a penny to get rid of her, without
knowing it either ! What is there sacred in the relations be-
tween father and child, when they are such relations as these?
Even the flowers of the field can not grow without light and
air to help them I How is a child's love to grow, with noth-
ing to help it?
" My small savings would have been soon exhausted, even
if I had been old enough and strong enough to protect them
myself. As things were, my few shillings were taken from
me by gypsies. I had no reason to complain. They gave me*
food and the shelter of their tents, and they made me of use
to them in various ways. After a while hard times came to
the gypsies, as they had come to the strolling players. Some
of them were imprisoned ; the rest were dispersed. It was
tlie season for hop-gathering at the time. I got employment
among the hop-pickers next ; and that done, I went to Lon-
don with my new friends.
" I have no wish to weary and pain you by dwelling on this
part of my childhood in detail. It will be enough if I tell you
that I sank lower and lower until I ended in selling matches
in the street. My mother's legacy got me many a sixpence
which my matches would never have charmed out of the
l)0ckets of strangers if I had been an ugly child. My face,
which was destined to be ray greatest misfortune in after-
years, was my best friend in those days.
" Is there any thing, Mr. Holmcrof t, in the life I am now
THE NEW MAGDALEK. 211
trying to describe which reminds you of a day when we were
out walking together not long since ?
" I surprised and offended you, I remember ; and it was
not possible for me to explain my conduct at the time. Do
you recollect the little wandering girl, with the miserable
faded nosegay in her hand, who ran after us, and begged for
a half-penny ? I shocked you by bursting out crying when
the child asked us to buy her a bit of bread. Now you know
why I was so sorry for her. Now you know why I offended
you the next day by breaking an engagement with your moth-
er and sistera, and going to see that child in her wretched
home. After what I have confessed, you will admit that my
poor little sister in adversity had the first claim on me.
" Let me go on. . t am soiTy if I have distressed you. Let
me go on.
" The forlorn wanderers of the streets have (as I found it)
one way always open to them of presenting their sufferings
to the notice of their rich and charitable fellow- creatures.
They have only to break the law and they make a public
appearance in a court of justice. If the circumstances con-
nected with their offense are of an interesting kind, they gain
a second advantage : they arc advertised all over England by
a report in the newspapers.
" Yes I even I have my knowledge of the law. I know
that it completely overlooked me as long as I respected it.
But on two different occasions it became my best friend when
I set it at defiance ! My first fortunate offense was commit-
ted when I was just twelve years old.
" It was evening time. I was half dead with starvation ;
the rain was falling ; the night was coming on, I begged
openly, loudly, as only a hungry child can beg. An old lady
in a carriage at a shop door complained of my importunity.
The policeman did his duty. The law gave me a supper and
shelter at the station-house that night. I appeared at the po-
lice court, and, questioned by the magistrate, I told my story
112 THB KSW MAGDALEN.
truly. It was the every-day story of thousands of children
like me ; but it had one element o interest in it. I confessed
to having had a father (he was then dead) who had been a
man of rank ; and I owned (just as openly as I owned every
thing else) that I had never applied to him for help, in resent-
ment of his treatment of my mother. This incident was new,
I suppose ; it led to the appearance of my ^case ' in the news-
papers. The reporters further served my interests by de-
scribing me as ^ pretty and interesting.' Subscriptions were
sent to the court. A benevolent married couple, in a respect-
able sphere of life, visited the work-house to see me. I pro-
duced a favorable impression on them especially on the wife.
I was literally friendless; I had no unwelcome relatives to
follow me and claim me. The wife was childless; the hus-
band was a good-natured man. It ended in their taking me
away with them to try me in senice.
" I have always felt the aspiration, no matter how low I
may have fallen, to struggle upward to a position above me;
to rise, in spite of fortune, superior to my lot in life. Perhaps
some of my father's pride may be at the root of this rest-
less feeling in me. It seems to be a part of my nature. It
brought me into this house and it will go with me out of
this house. Is it my curse, or my blessing ? I am not able
to decide.
" On the first night when I slept in my new home I said to
myself, * They have taken me to be their servant: I will be
something more than that they shall end in taking me for
their child.' Before I had been a week in the house I was
the wife's favorite companion in the absence of her husband
at his place of business. She was a highly accomplished
woman, greatly her husband's superior in cultivation, and, un-
fortunately for herself, also his superior in years. The love
was all on her side. Excepting certain occasions on which
he roused her jealousy, they lived together on sufficiently
friendly terms. She was one of the many wives who resign
THB NBW MAGDALEN. 273
themselves to be disappointed in their husbands and he was
one of the many husbands who never know what their wives
really think of them. Her one great happiness was in teach-
ing me. I was eager to learn ; I made rapid progress. At
my pliant age I soon acquired the refinements of language
and manner which characterized my mistress. It is only the
truth to say that the cultivation which has made me capable
of personating a lady was her work.
"For three happy years I lived under that friendly roof.
I was between fifteen and sixteen years of age, when the fa-
tal inheritance from my mother cast its first shadow on my
life. One miserable day the wife's motherly love for me
changed in an instant to the jealous hatred that never for-
gives. Can you guess the reason ? The husband fell in love
with me.
"I was innocent; I was blameless. He owned it himself
to the clergyman who was with him at his death. By that
time years had passed. It was too late to justify me.
"He was at an age (when I was under his care) when men
are usually supposed to regard women with tranquillity, if
not with indifference. It had been the habit of years with
me to look on him as my second father. In my innocent ig-
norance of the feeling which really inspired him, I permitted
him to indulge in little pateraal familiarities with me, which
inflamed his guilty passion. His wife discovered him not I.
No words can describe my astonishment and my horror when
the first outbreak of her indignation forced on me the knowl-
edge of the truth. On my knees I declared myself guiltless.
On my knees I implored her to do justice to my purity and
my youth. At other times the sweetest and the most consid-
erate of women, jealousy had now transformed her to a per-
feet fury. She accused me of deliberately encouraging him.
She declared she would turn me out of the house with her
own hands. Like other easy-tempered men, her husband had
reserves of anger in him which it was dangerous to provoke.
274 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
When hU wife lifted her hand against me, he lost all self-
control, on his side. He openly told her that life was worth
nothing to him without me. He openly avowed his resolu-
tion to go with me when I left the house. The maddened
woman seized him by the arm ^I saw that, and saw no more.
I ran out into the street, panic-stricken. A cab was passing.
I got into it before he could open the house door, and drove
to the only place of refuge I could think of a small shop,
kept by the widowed sister of one of our servants. Here I
obtained shelter for the night. The next day he discovered
me. He made his vile proposals ; he offered me the whole of
his fortune ; he declared his resolution, say what I might, to
return the next day. That night, by help of the good woman
who had taken care of me under cover of the darkness, as if
I had been to blame ! ^I was secretly removed to the East
End of London, and placed under the charge of a trustworthy
person who lived, in a very humble way, by letting lodgings.
" Here, in a little back garret at the top of the house, I was
thrown again on the world at an age \vhen it was doubly
perilous for me to be left to my own resources to earn the
bread I ate and the roof that covered rae.
" I claim no credit to myself young as I was, placed as I
was between the easy life of Vice and the hard life of Virtue
for acting as I did. The man simply horrified me ; my
natural impulse was to escape from him. But let it be re-
membered, before I approach the saddest part of my sad
story, that I was an innocent girl, and that I was at least not
to blame.
"Forgive me for dwelling as I have done on my early
years. I shi*ink from speaking of the events that are still to
come.
" In losing the esteem of ray first benefactress I had, in ray
friendless position, lost all hold on an honest life except the
one frail hold of needle- work. The only reference of which I
could now dispose was the recommendation of me by my
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 275
landlady to a place of business which largely employed ex-
pert needle-women. It is needless for me to tell you how
miserably work of that sort is remunerated : you have read
about it in the newspapers. As long as my health lasted I
contrived to live and to keep out of debt. Few girls could
have resisted as long as I did the slowly-poisoning influences
of crowded work-rooms, insufficient nourishment, and almost
total privation of exercise. My life as a child had been a
life in the open air : it had helped to strengthen a constitu-
tion naturally hardy, naturally free from all taint of heredi-
tary disease. But my time came at last. Under the cruel
stress laid on it my health gave way. I was struck down by
low fever, and sentence was pronounced on me by my fellow-
lodgers : *Ah, poor thing, her troubles will soon be at an end I'
"The prediction might have proved true I might never
have committed the errors and endured the sufferings of af-
ter-years if I had fallen ill in another house.
"But it was my good, or my evil, fortune I dare not say
which to have interested in myself and my sorrows an act-
ress at a suburban theatre, who occupied the room under
mine. Except when her stage duties took her away for two
or three hours in the evening, this noble creature never left
my bedside. Ill as she could afford it, her purse paid my in-
evitable expenses while I lay helpless. The landlady, moved
by her example, accepted half the weekly rent of my room.
The doctor, with the Christian kindness of his profession,
would take no fees. All that the tenderest care could accom-
plish was lavished on me ; my youth and my constitution did
the rest. I struggled back to life and then I took up my
needle again.
"It may surprise you that I should have failed (having an
actress for my dearest friend) to use the means of introduc-
tion thus offered to me to try the stage especially as my
childish training had given me, in some small degree, a famil-
iarity with the Art.
276 THS NEW KAGDALBir.
*^ I had only one motive for Bhrinking from an appearance
at the theatre bnt it was strong enough to induce me to
submit to any alternative that remaned, no matter how hope-
less it might be. If I showed myself on the public stage,
my discovery by the man from whom I had escaped would b^
only a question of time. I knew him to be habitually a play-
goer and a subscriber to a theatrical newspaper. I had even
heard him speak of the theatre to which my friend was at-
tached, and compare it advantageously with places of amuse-
ment of far higher pretensions. Sooner or later, if I joined
the company, he would be certain to go and see * the new act-
ress.' The bare thought of it reconciled me to returning to
my needle. Before I was strong enough to endure the at-
mosphere of the crowded work-room I obtained permission,
as a favor, to resume my occupation at home.
" Surely my choice was the choice of a virtuous girl ? And
yet the day when I returned to my needle was the fatal day
of my life.
" I had now not only to provide for the wants of the pass-
ing hour I had my debts to pay. It was only to be done by
toiling harder than ever, and by living more poorly tlian ever,
I soon paid the penalty, in my weakened state, of leading
such a life as this. One evening my head turned suddenly
giddy ; my heart throbbed frightfully. I managed to open
the window, and to let the fresh air into the room, and I felt
better. But I was not sufficiently recovered to be able to
thread my needle. I thought to myself, * If I go out for half
an hour, a little exercise may put me right again.' I had not^
as I suppose, been out more than ten minutes when the at-
tack from which I had suffered in my room was renewed.
There was no shop near in which I could take refuge. I
tried to ring the bell of the nearest house door. Before I
could reach it I fainted in the street.
" IIow long hunger and weakness left rae at the mercy of the
first stranger who might pass by, it is impossible for me to say.
THE NBW MAGDALEN. 277
" When I partially recovered my senses I was conscious of
being under shelter somewhere, and of having a wine-glass
containing some cordial drink held to my lips by a man. I
managed to swallow I don't know how little, or how much.
The stimulant had a very strange effect on me. Reviving
me at first, it ended in stupefying me. I lost my senses once
more.
" When I next recovered myself, the day was breaking. I
was in a bed in a strange room. A nameless terror seized
me. I called out. Three or four women came in, whose
faces betrayed, even to my inexperienced eyes, the shameless
infamy of their lives. I started up in the bed. I implored
them to tell me where I was, and what had happened
" Spare me I I can say no more. Not long since you
heard Miss Roseberry call me an outcast from the streets.
Now you know as God is my judge I am speaking the
truth ! now you know what made me an outcast, and in
what measure I deserved my disgrace."
Her voice faltered, her resolution failed her, for the first
time.
" Give me a few minutes," she said, in low, pleading tones.
*' If I try to go on now, I am afraid I shall cry."
She took the chair which Julian had placed for her, turn-
ing her face aside so that neither of the men could see it
One of her hands was pressed over her bosom, the other
hung listlessly at her side.
Julian rose from the place that he had occupied. Horace
neither moved nor spoke. His head was on his breast : the
traces of tears on his cheeks owned mutely that she had
touched his heart. Would he forgive her ? Julian passed
on, and approached Mercy's chair.
In silence he took the hand which hung at her side. In
silence he lifted it to his lips and kissed it, as her brother
might have kissed it. She started, but she never looked xxp.
278 THB NEW MAGDALEN.
Some strange fear of discovery seemed to possess her. " Hor-
ace?" she whispered, timidly. Julian made no reply. He
went back to his place, and allowed her to think it was
Horace.
The sacrifice was immense enough feeling toward her as
he felt to be worthy of the man who made it.
A few minutes had been all she asked for. In a few mm-
utes she turned toward them again. Her sweet voice was
steady once more ; her eyes rested softly on Horace as she
went on.
" What was it possible for a friendless girl in my position
to do, when the full knowledge of the outrage had been re-
vealed to me ?
" If I had possessed near and dear relatives to protect and
advise me, the wretches into whose hands I had fallen might
have felt the penalty of the law. I knew no more of the
formalities which set the law in motion than a child. But
I liad another alternative (you will say). Charitable socie-
ties would have received me and helped me, if I had stated
my ease to them. I knew no more of the charitable societies
til an I knew of the law. At least, then, I might have gone
back to the honest people among whom I had lived ? When
I received my freedom, after the interval of some days, I was
ashamed to go back to the honest people. Helplessly and
hopelessly, without sin or choice of mine, I drifted, as thou-
sands of other women have drifted, into the life which set a
mark on me for the rest of my days.
"Are you surprised at the ignorance which this confession
reveals ?
" You, who have your solicitors to inform you of legal
remedies, and your newspapers, circulars, and active friends
to sound the praises of charitable institutions continually in
your cars you, who possess these advantages, have no idea
of the outer world of ignorance in which your lost fellow-
creatures live. They know nothing (unless they are rogues
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 279
accustomed to prey on society) of your benevolent schemes to
help them. The purpose of public charities, and the way to
discover and apply to them, ought to be posted at the corner
of every street. What do we know of public dinners and elo-
quent sermons and neatly printed circulars ? Every now and
then the case of some forlorn creature (generally of a woman)
who has committed suicide, within five minutes' walk, per-
haps, of an institution which would have opened its doors to
her, appears in the newspapers, shocks you dreadfully, and is
then forgotten again. Take as much pains to make charities
and asylums known among the people without money as are
taken to make a new play, a new journal, or a new medicine
known among the people with money, and you will save
many a lost creature who is perishing now.
" You will forgive and understand me if I say no more of
this period of my life. Let me pass to the new incident in
my career which brought me for the second time before the
public notice in a court of law.
" Sad as my experience has been, it has not taught me to
think ill of human nature. I had found kind hearts to feel
for me in my former troubles ; and I had friends ^faithful,
self-denying, generous friends among my sisters in adver-
sity now. One of these poor women (she has gone, I am glad
to think, from the world that used her so hardly) especially
attracted my sympathies. She was the gentlest, the most
unselfish creature I have ever met with. We lived together
like sisters. More than once, in the dark hours when the
thought of self-destruction comes to a desperate woman, the
image of my poor devoted friend, left to suffer alone, rose in
my mind and restrained me. You will hardly understand it,
but even we had our happy days. When she or I had a few
shillings to spare, we used to offer one another little pres-
ents, and enjoy our simple pleasure in giving and receiv-
ing as keenly as if we had been the most reputable women
living.
280 THS NEW HAGDALEir.
' ^* One day I took my friend into a shop to bay her a rib-
bon only a bow for her dress. She was to choose it, and I
was to pay for it, and it was to be the prettiest ribbon that
money could bny.
^^ The shop was fall ; we had to wait a little before we
coald be served.
^* Next to me, as I stood at the counter with my compau.
ion, was a gaudily dressed woman, looking at some handker-
chiefs. The handkerchiefs were finely embroidered, but the
smart lady was hard to please. She tumbled them up dis-
dainfully in a heap, and asked for other specimens from the
stock in the shop. The man, in clearing the handkerchiefs
out of the way, suddenly missed one. He was quite sure of
it, from a peculiarity in the embroidery which made the hand-
kerchief especially noticeable. I was poorly dressed, and I
was close to the handkerchiefs. After one look at me he
shouted to the superintendent, * Shut the door ! There is a
thief in the shop !'
" The door was closed ; the lost handkerchief was vainly
sought for on the counter and on the floor. A robbery had
been committed ; and I was accused of being the thief.
" I will say nothing of what I felt I will only tell you what
happened.
" I was searched, and the handkerchief was discovered on
me. The woman who had stood next to me, on finding her-
self threatened with discovery, had no doubt contrived to slip
the stolen handkerchief into my pocket. Only an accomplish-
ed thief could have escaped detection in that way without
my knowledge. It was useless, in the face of the facts, to
declare my innocence. I had no character to appeal to. My
friend tried to speak for me ; but what was she ? Only a lost
woman like myself. My landlady's evidence in favor of my
honesty produced no effect ; it was against her that she let
lodgings to people in my position. I was prosecuted, and
found guilty. The ta\e oi my ^i^^x^o,^ \^ wow complete, Mr.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 281
Holmcroft. No matter whether I was innocent or not, the
shame of it remains ^I have been imprisoned for theft.
" The matron of the prison was the next person who took
an interest in me. She reported favorably of my behavior to
the authorities; and when I had served my time (as the
phrase was among us) she gave me a letter to the kind friend
and guardian of my later years to the lady who is coming
here to take me back with her to the Refuge.
" From this time the story of my life is little more than the
story of a woman's vain efforts to recover her lost place in
the world.
" The matron, on receiving me into the Refuge, frankly
acknowledged that there were terrible obstacles in my way.
But she saw that I was sincere, and she felt a good woman's
sympathy and compassion for me. On my side, I did not
shrink from beginning the slow and weary journey back again
to a reputable life from the humblest starting-point from
domestic service. After first earning my new character in
the Refuge, I obtained a trial in a respectable house. I work-
ed hard, and worked uncomplainingly ; but my mother's fatal
legacy was against me from the first. My personal appear-
ance excited remark; my manners and habits were not the
manners and habits of the women among whom my lot was
cast. I tried one place after another always with the same
results. Suspicion and jealousy I could endure ; but I was
defenseless whei? curiosity assailed me in its turn. Sooner or
later inquiry led to discovery. Sometimes the servants tlireat-
ened to give warning in a body and I was obliged to go.
Sometimes, where there was a young man in the family, scan-
dal pointed at me and at him and again I was obliged to
go. If you care to know it. Miss Roseberry can tell you the
story of those sad days. I confided it to her on the memo-
rable night when we met in the French cottage ; I have no
heart to repeat it now. After a while I wearied of the hope-
less struggle. Despair laid its hold oiv m^ Wo^\ ^V^^^^^Sssl
13
282 ' THE NEW MAGDALEN.
the mercy of God. More than once I walked to one or other
of the bridges, and looked over the parapet at the river, and
said to myself, * Other women have done it : why shouldn't I?'
" You saved me at that time, Mr. Gray as you have saved
me since. I was one of your congregation when you preach-
ed in the chapel of the Refuge. You reconciled others be^
sides me to our hard pilgrimage. In their name and in mine,
sir, I thank you.
" I forget how long it was after the bright day when you
comforted and sustained us that the war broke out between
France and Germany. But I can never forget the evening
when the matron sent for me into her own room and said,
* My dear, your life here is a wasted life. If you have cour-
age enough left to try it, I can give you another chance.'
" I passed through a month of probation in a London hos-
pital. A week after that I wore the red cross of the Geneva
Convention ^I was appointed nurse in a French ambulance.
When you first saw me, Mr. Holmcroft, I still had my nurse's
dress on, hidden from you and from every body under a gray
cloak."
" You know what the next event was ; you know how I en-
tered this house.
"I have not tried to make the worst of my trials and
troubles in telling you what my life has been. I have honest-
ly described it for what it was when I met with Miss Rose-
berry a life without hope. May you never know the temp-
tation that tried me when the shell striick its victim in the
French cottage ! There she lay dead ! Her name was un-
tainted. Her future promised me the reward which had been
denied to the honest efforts of a penitent woman. My lost
place in the world was offered back to me on the one con-
dition that I stooped to win it by a fraud. I had no pros-
pect to look forward to ; I had no friend near to advise me
and to save me ; the fairest years of ray womanhood had been
wasted in the vain struggle to recover my good name. Such
THB NSW MAGDALEN. 283
was my position when the possibility of personating Miss
Roseberry first forced itself on my mind. Impulsively, reck-
lessly wickedly, if you like I seized the opportunity, and
let you pass me through the Gei*man lines under Miss Rose-
berry's name. Arrived in England, having had time to re-
flect, I made my first and last effort to draw back before it
was too late. I went to the Refuge, and stopped on the op-
posite side of the street, looking at it. The old hopeless life
of irretrievable disgrace confronted me as I fixed my eyes on
the familiar door; the horror of returning to that life was
more than I could force myself to endure. An empty cab
passed me at the moment. The driver held up his hand. In
sheer despair I stopped him, and when he said ' Where to ?'
in sheer despair again I answered, * Mablethorpe House.'
" Of what I have suffered in secret since my own success-
ful deception established me under Lady Janet's care I shall
say nothing. Many things which must have surprised you in
my conduct are made plain to you by this time. You must
have noticed long since that I was not a happy woman, ^ow
you know why.
*^ My confession is made ; my conscience has spoken at last.
You are released from your promise to me ^you are free.
Thank Mr. Julian Gray it I stand here self-accused of the of-
fense that I have committed, before the man whom I have
wronged."
CHAPTER XXVni.
SENTENCE IS PBONOUNCED ON HEE.
It was done. The last tones of her voice died away in
silence.
Her eyes still rested on Horace. After hearing what he
had heard, could he resist that gentle, pleading look ? Would
be forgive her? A while since Julian had seen tears on his
284 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
cheeks, and had believed that be felt for her. Why was he
now silent? Was it possible that he only felt for himself?
For the last time at the crisis of her life Julian spoke
for her. He had never loved her as he loved her at th .t mo-
ment ; it ti-ied even his generous nature to. plead her cause
with Horace against himself. But he had promised her, with-
out reserve, all the help that her truest friend could offer.
Faithfully and manfully ho redeemed his promise.
" Horace I" be said.
Horace slowly looked up. Julian rose and approached him.
'^ She has told you to thank mCy if her conscience has spoken.
Thank the noble nature which answered when I called upon
it ! Own the priceless value of a woman who can speak the
truth. Her heart-felt repentance is a joy in heaven. Shall it
not plead for her on earth ? Honor her, if you are a Chris-
tian ! Feel for her, if you are a man I"
He waited. Horace never answered him.
Mercy's eyes turned tearfully on Julian. JTis heart was the
heart that felt for her ! ITis words were the words which
comforted and pardoned her ! When she looked back again
at Horace, it was with an effort. His last hold on her was
lost. In her inmost mind a thought rose unbidden a
thought which was not to be repressed. " Can I ever have
loved this man ?"
She advanced a step toward him ; it was not possible, even
yet, to completely forget the past. She held out her hand.
He rose, on his side without looking at her.
" Before we part forever," she said to him, " will you take
my hand as a token that you forgive me?"
He hesitated. He half lifted his hand. The next moment
the generous impulse died away in him. In its place came
the mean fear of what might happen if he trusted himself to
the dangerous fascination of her touch. His hand dropped
again at his side ; he turned away quickly.
" I can't forgive her !" he said.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 285
With that horrible confession without even a last look at
her he left the room.
At the moment when he opened the door Julian's contempt
for him burst its way through all restraints.
" Horace," he said, " I pity you !"
As the words escaped him he looked back at Mercy. She
had turned aside from both of them she had retired to a dis-
tant part of the library. The first bitter foretaste of what
was in store for her when she faced the world again had come
to her from Horace ! The energy which had sustained her
thus far quailed before the dreadful prospect doubly dread-
ful to a woman of obloquy and contempt. She sank on her
knees before a little couch in the darkest corner of the room.
" O Christ, have mercy on me I" That was hci* prayer no
more.
Julian followed her. He waited a little. Then his kind
hand touched her ; his friendly voice fell consolingly on her
ear.
*^ Bise, poor wounded heart ! Beautiful, purified soul, God's
angels rejoice over you ! Take your place among the noblest
of God's creatures !"
He raised her as he spoke. All her heart went out to him.
She caught his hand she pressed it to her bosom; she
pressed it to her lips then dropped it suddenly, and stood
before him trembling like a frightened child.
" Forgive me !" was all she could say. " I was so lost and
lonely and you are so good to me !"
She tried to leave him. It was useless ^her strength was
gone ; she caught at the head of the couch to support herself.
He looked at her. The confession of his love was just rising
to his lips he looked again, and checked it. No, not at that
moment ; not when she was helpless and ashamed ; not when
her weakness might make her yield, only to regret it at a later
time. The great heart which had spared her and felt for her
from the first spared her and felt for her now.
286 THE NEW MAGDALEX.
He, too, left her ^but not without a word at parting.
"Don't think of your future life just yet," he said, gently.
" I have something to propose when rest and quiet have re-
stored you." He opened the nearest door the door of the
dining-room and went out.
The servants engaged in completing the decoration of the
dinner- table noticed, when "Mr. Julian" entered the room,
that his eyes were " brighter than ever." He looked (they re-
marked) like a man who " expected good news." They were
inclined to suspect though he was certainly rather young for
it that her ladyship's nephew was in a fair way of prefer-
ment in the Church.
Mercy seated herself on the couch.
There are limits, in the physical organization of man, to the
action of pain. When suffering has reached a given point of
intensity the nervous sensibility becomes incapable of feeling
more. The rule of Nature, in this respect, applies not only
to sufferers in the body, but to sufferers in the mind as well.
Grief, rage, terror, have also their appointed limits. The mor-
al sensibility, like the nervous sensibility, reaches its period of
absolute exhaustion, and feels no more.
The capacity for suffering in Mercy had attained its term.
Alone in the library, she could feel the physical relief of re-
pose ; she could vaguely recall Julian's parting words to her,
and sadly wonder what they meant she could do no more.
An interval passed ; a brief interval of perfect rest.
She recovered herself sufficiently to be able to look at her
watch and to estimate the lapse of time that might yet pass
before Julian returned to her as he had promised. While
her mind was still languidly following this train of thought
she was disturbed by the ringing of a bell in the hall, used to
summon the servant whose duties were connected with that
part of the house. In leaving the library, Horace had gone
oat by the door wbicTa \e^ \vi\o \}c\Qi \\^^ ^wi Iv^^d failed to
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 287
close it. She plainly heard the bell and a moment later
(more plainly still) she heard Lady Janet's voice !
She started to her feet. Lady Janet's letter was still in the
pocket of her apron the letter which imperatively commanded
her to abstain from making the very confession that had just
passed her lips ! It was near the dinner hour, and the libra-
ry was the favorite place in which the mistress of the house
and her guests assembled at that time. It was no matter of
doubt; it was an absolute certainty that Lady Janet had only
stopped in the hall on her way into the room.
The alternative for Mercy lay between instantly leaving the
library by the dining-room door or remaining where she
was, at the risk of being sooner or later compelled to own
that she had deliberately disobeyed her benefactress. Ex-
hausted by what she had already suffered, she stood trem-
bling and irresolute, incapable of deciding which alteniative
she should choose.
Lady Janet's voice, clear and resolute, penetrated into the
room. She was reprimanding the servant who had answered
the belL
"Is it your duty in my house to look after the lamps?"
" Yes, my lady."
" And is it my duty to pay you your wages ?"
" If you please, my lady."
" Why do I find the light in the hall dim, and the wick of
that lamp smoking ? I have not failed in my duty to You.
Don't let me find you failing again in your duty to Me."
(Never had Lady Janet's voice sounded so sternly in Mer-
cy's ear as it sounded now. If she spoke with that tone of
severity to a servant who had neglected a lamp, what had her
adopted daughter to expect when she discovered that her en-
treaties and her commands had been alike set at defiance ?)
Having administered her reprimand. Lady Janet had not
done with the servant yet. She had a question to put to Ivvs^
next.
288 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" Where is Miss Roseberry ?"
" In the library, my lady."
Mercy returned to the couch. She could stand no longer;
she had not even resolution enough left to lift her eyes to the
door.
Lady Janet came in more rapidly than usual. She ad-
vanced to the couch, and tapped Mercy playfully on the cheek
with two of her fingers.
" You lazy child ! Not dressed for dinner ? Oh, fie, fie !"
Her tone was as playfully affectionate as the action which
had accompanied her words. In speechless astonishment
Mercy looked up at her.
Always remarkable for the taste and splendor of her dress.
Lady Janet had on this occasion surpassed herself. There
she stood revealed in her grandest velvet, her richest jewelry,
her finest lace with no one to entertain at the dinner-table
but the ordinary members of the circle at Mablethorpe
House. Noticing this as strange to begin with, Mercy fur-
ther observed, for the first time in her experience, that Lady
Janet's eyes avoided meeting hers. The old lady took her
place companionably on the couch; she ridiculed her "lazy
child's " plain dress, without an ornament of any sort on it,
with her best grace; she affectionately put her arm round
Mercy's waist, and re-arranged with her own hand the disor-
dered locks of Mercy's hair but the instant Mercy herself
looked at her. Lady Janet's eyes discovered something su-
premely interesting in the familiar objects that surrounded
her on the library walls.
How were these changes to be interpreted ? To what pos-
sible conclusion did they point ?
Julian's profounder knowledge of human nature, if Julian
had been present, might have found a clue to the mystery.
He might have surmised (incredible as it was) that Mercy's
timidity before Lady Janet was fully reciprocated by Lady
Janet's timidity beiove "Mlevcy . \\ ^^^ ^n^w ^q, T\ve woman
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 289
whose immovable composure had^ conquered Grace Rose-
berry's utmost insolence in the hour of her triumph the
woman who, without once flinching, had faced every other
consequence of her resolution to ignore Mercy's true position
in the house quailed for the first time when she found her-
self face to face with the very person for whom she had suf-
fered and sacrificed so much. She had shrunk from the
meeting with Mercy, as Mercy had shrunk from the meeting
with her. The splendor of her dress meant simply that,
when other excuses for delaying the meeting down stairs had
all been exhausted, the excuse of a long and elaborate toilet
had been tried next. Even the moments occupied in repri-
manding the servant had been moments seized on as the pre-
text for another delay. The hasty entrance into the room,
the nervous assumption of playfulness in language and man-
ner, the evasive and wandering eyes, were all referable to the
same cause. In the presence of others. Lady Janet had suc-
cessfully silenced the protest of her own inbred delicacy and
inbred sense of honor. In the presence of Mercy, whom she
loved with a mother's love in the presence of Mercy, for
whom she had stooped to deliberate concealment of the truth
all that was high and noble in the woman's nature rose in
her and rebuked her. What will the daughter of my adop-
tion, the child of my first and last experience of matenial
love, think of me, now that I have made myself an accomplice
in the fraud of which she is ashamed ? How can I look her
in the face, when I have not hesitated, out of selfish consid-
eration for my own tranquillity, to forbid that frank avowal
of the truth which her finer sense of duty had spontaneously
bound her to make? Those were the torturing questions in
Lady Janet's mind, while her arm was wound affectionately
round Mercy's waist, while her fingers were busying them-
selves familiarly with the an-angement of Mercy's hair.
Thence, and thence only, sprang the impulse which set het
talking, with an uneasy affectation oi imo\vX,^,Qt ^\s^ Xsy^^a
13*
290 THB NBW KAGDALBK.
within the range of converaation, so long as it related to the
f ature, and completely ignored the present and the past
"The winter here is unendurable,'' Lady Janet began.
" I have been thinking, Grace, about what we had better do
next."
Mercy started. Lady Janet had called her "Grace."
Lady Janet was still deliberately assuming to be innocent of
the faintest suspicion of the truth.
"Xo," resumed her ladyship, affecting to misunderstand
Mercy's movement, " you are not to go up now and dress.
There is no time, and I am quite ready to excuse you. You
are a foil to me, my dear. You have reached the perfec-
tion of shabbiness. Ah ! I remember when I had my whims
and fancies too, and when I looked well in any thing I wore,
just as you do. No more of that. As I was saying, I have
been thinking and planning what we are to do. We really
can't stay here. Cold one day, and hot the next what a
climate ! As for society, what do we lose if we go away ?
There is no such thing as society now. Assemblies of well-
dressed mobs meet at each other's houses, tear each other's
clothes, tread on each other's toes. If you are particularly
lucky, you sit on the staircase, you get a tepid ice, and you
hear vapid talk in slang phrases all round you. There is
modern society. If we had a good opera, it would be some-
thing to stay in London for. Look at the programme for the
season on that table promising as much as possible on pa-
per, and performing as little as possible on the stage. The
same works, sung by the same singers year after year, to the
same stupid people in short, the dullest musical evenings in
Europe. No ! the more I think of it, the more plainly I per-
ceive that there is but one sensible choice before us : we must
go abroad. Set that pretty head to work ; choose north or
south, east or west; it's all the same to me. Where shall
we go ?"
Mercy looked at her quickly as she put the question.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 291
Lady Janet, more quickly yet, looked away at the pro-
gramme of the opera-house. Still the same melancholy false
pretenses ! still the same useless and cruel delay ! Incapable
of enduring the position now forced upon her, Mercy put her
hand into the pocket of her apron, and drew from it Lady
Janet's letter.
" Will your ladyship forgive me," she began, in faint, fal-
tering tones, " if I venture on a painful subject ? I hardly
dare acknowledge " In spite of her resolution to speak out
plainly, the memory of past love and past kindness prevailed
with her ; the next words died away on her lips. She could
only hold up the letter.
Lady Janet declined to see the letter. Lady Janet sud-
denly became absorbed in the arrangement of her brace-
lets.
" I know what you daren't acknowledge, you foolish child !"
she exclaimed. " You daren't acknowledge that you are tired
of this dull house. My dear ! I am entirely of your opinion
I am weary of my own magnificence ; I long to be living in
one snug little room, with one servant to wait on me. I'll
tell you what we will do. We will go to Paris in the first
place. My excellent Migliore, prince of couriers, shall be the
only person in attendance. He shall take a lodging for us in
one of the unfashionable quarters of Paris. We wiU rough
it, Grace (to use the slang phrase), merely for a change. We
will lead what they call a * Bohemian life.' I know plenty of
writers and painters and actors in Paris the liveliest society
in the world, my dear, until one gets tired of them. We will
dine at the restaurant, and go to the play, and drive about in
shabby little hired carriages. And when it begins to get mo-
notonous (which it is only too sure to do !) we will spread
our wings and fly to Italy, and cheat the winter in that way.
There is a plan for you ! Migliore is in town. I will send to
him this evening, and we will start to-morrow."
Mercy made another effort.
** I entreat your ladyship to pardon me,'' she resumed* ^1 .
have something serious to say. I am afraid ^^
^ I understand. You are afraid of crosmng the Cbannd,
and yon don't like to acknowledge it. Pooh I -The passage
barely lasts two hours; we wiU shut ourselves up in a private
cabin. I will send at once the courier may be engaged.
Rmg the belL''
^^Lady Janet, I must submit to my hard lot. I 4:^ not
hope to associate myself again with any future {dans of
yours ^
^Whatl you are afraid of our'Bohemian Ufe' in Paris?
Observe this, Gh*ace ! If there is one thing I ha^e oipsre than
another, it is ' an old head on young shoulders.' I say no
more. Ring the belL"
^^This can not go on,Lady Janet 1 Ko words can say how
unworthy I feel of your kindness^ how ashamed I am ^
'^Upon my honor, my dear,! agree widi you. Thi ought
to be ashamed, at your age, of making me get up to ring the
bell."
Her obstinacy was immovable ; she attempted to rise from
the couch; But one choice was left to Mercy. She antici-
pated Lady Janet, and rang the bell.
The man-servant came in. He had his little letter-tray in
his hand, with a card on it, and a sheet of paper beside the
card, which looked like an open letter.
"You know where my courier lives when he is in Lon-
don ?" asked Lady Janet.
" Yes, my lady."
" Send one of the grooms to him on horseback ; I am in a
hurry. The courier is to come here without fail to-morrow
morning in time for the tidal train to Paris. You under
stand ?"
".Yes, my lady."
" What have you got there ? Any thing for me?"
^^For Miss Roseberry^m^ \ad^ "
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 293
As he answered, the man handed the card and the open let*
ter to Mercy.
" The lady is waiting in the morning - room, miss. She
wished me to say she has time to spare, and she will wait for
you if you are not ready yet."
Having delivered his message in those terms, he withdrew.
Mercy read the name on the card. The matron had ar-
rived ! She looked at the letter next. It appeared to be a
printed circular, with some lines in pencil added on the emp*
ty page. Printed lines and written lines swam before her
eyes. She felt, rather than saw. Lady Janet's attention stead-
ily and suspiciously fixed on her. With the matron's arrival
the foredoomed end of the flimsy false pretenses and the
cruel delays had come.
"A friend of yours, my dear ?"
" Yes, Lady Janet."
" Am I acquainted with her ?"
" I think not, Lady Janet."
" You appear to be agitated. Does your visitor bring bad
news ? Is there any thing that I can do for you ?"
"You can add immeasurably add, madam to all your
past kindness, if you will only bear with me and forgive
me."
" Bear with you and forgive yon ? I don't understand."
" I will try to explain. Whatever else you may think of
me, Lady Janet, for God's sake don't think me ungrateful I"
Lady Janet held up her hand for silence.
"I dislike explanations," she said, sharply. "Nobody
ought to know that better than you. Perhaps the lady's
letter will explain for you. Why have you not looked at it
yet?"
" I am in great trouble, madam, as you noticed just now "
" Have you any objection to my knowing who your visit-
or is ?"
" No, Lady Janet."
294 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" Let me look at her card, then."
Mercy gave the matron's card to Lady Janet, as she had
given the matron's telegram to Horace.
Lady Janet read the name on the card considered de-
cided that it was a name quite unknown to her and looked
next at the address: "Western District Befnge, Milbum
Road."
"A lady connected with a Refuge?" she said, speaking to
herself; "and calling here by appointment if I remember
the servant's message ? A strange time to choose, if she has ,
come for a subscription !"
She paused. Her brow contracted; her face hardened.
A word from her would now have brought the interview to
its inevitable end, and she refused to speak the word. To
the last moment she persisted in ignoring the truth ! Pla-
cing the card on the couch at her side, she pointed with her
long yellow-white forefinger to the printed letter lying side
by side with her own letter on Mercy's lap.
"Do you mean to read it, or not?" she asked.
Mercy lifted her eyes, fast filling with tears, to Lady Ja-
net's face.
"May I beg that your ladyship will read it for me?" she
said and placed the matron's letter in Lady Janet's hand.
It was a printed circular announcing a new development
in the charitable work of the Refuge. Subscribers were in-
formed that it had been decided to extend the shelter and
the training of the institution (thus far devoted to fallen
women alone) so as to include destitute and helpless children
found wandering in the streets. The question of the number
of children to be thus rescued and protected was left depend-
ent, as a matter of course, on the bounty of the friends of the
Refuge, the cost of the maintenance of each one child being
stated at the lowest possible rate. A list of influential per-
sons who had increased their subscriptions so as to cover the
cost, and a brief statement of the progress already made with
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 296
the new work, completed the appeal, and brought the circular
to its end.
The lines traced in pencil (in the matron's handwriting)
followed on the blank page.
" Your letter tells me, my dear, that you would like re-
membering your own childhood to be employed when you
return among us in saving other poor children left helpless
on the world. Our circular will inform you that I am able
to meet your wishes. My first errand this evening in your
neighborhood was to take charge of a poor child a little
girl who stands sadly in need of our care. I have ventured
to bring her with me, thinking she might help to reconcile
you to the coming change in your life. You will find us
both waiting to go back with you to the old home. I write
this instead of saying it, hearing from the servant that you
are not alone, and being unwilling to intrude myself, as a
stranger, on the lady of the house."
Lady Janet read the penciled lines, as she had read the
printed sentences, aloud. Without a word of comment she
laid the letter where she had laid the card ; and, rising from
her seat, stood for a moment in stern silence, looking at Mer-
cy. The sudden change in her which the letter had pro-
duced quietly as it had taken place was terrible to see.
On the frowning brow, in the flashing eyes, on the hardened
lips, outraged love and outraged pride looked down on the
lost woman, and said, as if in words. You have roused us at
last.
" If that letter means any thing," she said, " it means you
are about to leave my house. There can be but one reason
for your taking such a step as that."
" It is the only atonement I can make, madam "
"I see another letter on your lap. Is it my letter?"
" Yes."
" Have you read it ?"
" I have read it."
20G THE NEW MAGDALEN.
" Have you seen Horace Ilolracrof t ?"
" Yes." "
" Have you told Horace Holmcroft ^"
" Oh, Lady Janet"
" Don't interrupt me. Have you told Horace Holmcroft
what my letter positively forbade you to communicate, cither
to him or to any living creature? I want no protestationa
and excuses. Answer me instantly, and answer in one word
Yes, or No."
Not even that haughty language, not even those pitiless
tones, could extinguish in Mercy's heart the sacred memorieB
of past kindness and past love. She fell on her knees ^her
outstretched hands touched Lady Janet's dress. Lady Janet
sharply drew her dress away, and sternly repeated her last
words.
Yes ? or No ?"
" Yes."
She had owned it at last ! To this end Lady Janet had
submitted to Grace Roscberry ; had offended Horace Holm-
croft ; had stooped, for the first time in her life, to conceal-
ments and compromises that degraded her. After aU that
slie had sacrificed and suffered, there Mercy knelt at her feet,
self-convicted of violating lier commands, trampling on her
feelings, deserting her house ! And who was the woman
who had done this? The same woman who had perpetrated
the fraud, and who had persisted in the fraud until her bene-
factress had descended to become her accomplice. Then,
and tlien only, she liad suddenly discovered that it was Iier
sacred duty to tell the truth !
In proud silence the great lady met the blow that had
fallen on her. In proud silence she turned her back on her
adopted daughter and walked to the door.
Mercy made her last appeal to the kind friend whom she
had offended to the second mother whom she had loved.
^^Lady Janet \ liivdy 3w[v^\.\ TQx^\ViaM^ \x!k.^ 'without a
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 297
word. Oh, madam, try to feel for me a little ! I am return-
ing to a life of humiliation the shadow of my old disgrace
is falling on me once more. We shall never meet again.
Even though I have not deserved it, let my repentance plead
with you ! Say you forgive me !"
Lady Janet turned round on the threshold of the door.
" I never forgive ingratitude," she said. " Go back to the
Refuge.'*
The door opened, and closed on her. Mercy was alone
again in the room.
XJnf orgiven by Horace, unf orgiven by Lady Janet ! She
put her hands to her burning head, and tried to think. Oh,
for the cool air of the night ! Oh, for the friendly shelter of
the Refuge! She could feel those sad longings in her: it
was impossible to think.
She rang the bell and shrank back the instant she had
done it. Had sTie any right to take that liberty ? She ought
to have thought of it before she rang. Habit all habit.
How many hundreds of times she had rung the bell at Ma-
blethorpe House I
The servant came in. She amazed the man she spoke to
him so timidly : she even apologized for troubling him !
" I am sorry to disturb you. Will you be so kind as to
say to the lady that I am ready for her ?"
"Wait to give that message," said a voice behind them,
" until you hear the bell rung again."
Mercy looked round in amazement. Julian had returned
to the library by the dining-room door.
298 xfis vlswt UAe^uMM^
:#:^^'
CHAPTER
THB UU3T TBIAIi.
Thb flenrant left them together. Marcy ^xslcie first
** Mr. Gray 1^ Ae exchumed, ^ why have yoa delayed my
message ? If yoa knew all, yoa wotitd know tbut f t is Itur
from being a kindness to me t6 k^ me in this hottiie.''
He advanced dos^r to her sarprised by heFwords^
alarmed by her looks.
** Has any one been here in my absence?^ he aisked.
'^Lady Janet has been here in yoar iibsmoe. I ean't ifp^
of it my heart feels finished Tcan beaar no more. Let
me go !"
Briefly as ahe had replied, she had said enough. Julian's
knowledge of Lady Janet's character told him what had hap-
pened. His face showed plainly that he was disappointed as
well as distressed.
"I had hoped to have been with you when you and my
aunt met, and to have prevented this," he said. " Believe
me, she will atone for all that she may have harshly and has-
tily done when she has had time to think. Try not to regret
it, if she has made your hard sacrifice harder still. She has
only raised you the higher she has additionally ennobled
you and endeared you in my estimation. Forgive me if I
own this in plain words. I can not control myself I feel too
strongly."
At other times Mercy might have heard the coming avow-
al in his tones, might have discovered it in his eyes. As it
was, her delicate insight was dulled, her fine perception was
blunted. She lieVd out. \v^t V^ccv^ \/i\C\vcv^\fe^vw^^ -^s.-^ue con*
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 299
viction that he was kinder to her than ever and feeling no
more.
" I must thank you for the last time," she said. "As long
as life is left, my gratitude will be a part of my life. Let
me go. While I can still control myself, let me go !"
She tried to leave him, and ring the bell. He held her
hand firmly, and drew her closer to him.
" To the Refuge ?" he asked.
" Yes," she said. " Home again !"
"Don't say that!" he exclaimed. "I can't bear to hear it.
Don't call the Refuge your home !"
" What else is it ? Where else can I go ?"
" I have come here to tell you. I said, if you remember, I
had something to propose."
She felt the fervent pressure of his hand; she saw the
mounting enthusiasm flashing in his eyes. Her weary mind
roused itself a little. She began to tremble under the electric
influence of his touch.
" Something to propose ?" she repeated. " What is there
to propose ?"
" Let me ask you a question on my side. What have you
done to-day?"
" You know what I have done : it is your work," she an-
swered, humbly. " Why return to it now ?"
" I return to it for the last time ; I return to it with a pur-
pose which you will soon understand. You have abandoned
your marriage engagement; you have forfeited Lady Janet's
love ; you have ruined all your worldly prospects ; you are
now returning, self-devoted, to a life which you have your-
self described as a life without hope. And all this you have
done of your own free-will at a time when you are absolute-
ly secure of your position in the house ^for the sake of speak-
ing the truth. Now tell me, is a woman who can make that
sacrifice a woman who will prove unworthy of the trust if a
man places in her keeping his honor and \i\e ivawv^iT''
300 THE KEW MAGDALEK.
She understood him at last She broke away from hini
with a cry. She stood with her hands clasped, trembling and
looking at him.
He gave her no time to think. The words poured from
his lips without conscious will or conscious effort of his
own.
" Mercy, from the first moment when I saw you I loved
you ! You are free ; I may own it ; I may ask you to be my
wife !"
She drew back from him farther and farther, with a wild
imploring gesture of her hand.
"No! no!" she cried. "Think of what you are saying!
think of what you would sacrifice ! It can not, must not
be."
His face darkened with a sudden dread. His head fell
on his breast. His voice sank so low that she could barely
hear it.
"I had forgotten something," he said. "You have re-
minded me of it."
She ventured back a little nearer to him. " Have I oflEend-
ed you ?"
lie smiled sadly. " You have enlightened me. I had for-
gotten that it doesn't follow, because I love you, that you
should love me in return. Say that it is so, Mercy, and I
leave you."
A faint tinge of color rose on her face^ then left it again
paler than ever. Her eyes looked downward timidly under
the eager gaze that he fastened on her.
" How can I say so ?" she answered, simply. " Where is
the woman in my place whose heart could resist you ?"
He eagerly advanced ; he held out his arms to her in breath-
less, speechless joy. She drew back from him once more with
a look that horrified him a look of blank despair.
"Am I fit to be your wife ?" she asked. " Must I remind
you of what you owe to your high position, your spotless in^
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 301
tegrity, your famous name ? Think of all that you have done
for me, and then think of the black ingratitude of it if I ruin
you for life by consenting to our marriage if I selfishly,
cruelly, wickedly, drag you down to the level of a woman like
me !" -
" I raise you to my level when I make you my wife," he
answered. " For Heaven's sake do me justice ! Don't refer
me to the world and its opinions. It rests with you, and you
alone, to make the misery or the happiness of my life. The
world ! Good God ! what can the world give me in exchange
for You ?"
She clasped her hands imploringly; the tears flowed fast
over her cheeks.
" Oh, have pity on my weakness !" she cried. " Kindest,
best of men, help me to do my hard duty toward you ! It is
BO hard, after all that I have suffered when my heart is
yearning for peace and happiness and love !" She checked
herself, shuddering at the words that had escaped her. " Re-
member how Mr. Holmcrof t has used me ! Remember how
Lady Janet has left me ! Remember what I have told you
of my life ! The scorn of every creature you know would
strike at you through me. No ! no ! no ! Not a word more.
Spare me ! pity me ! leave me !"
Her voice failed her; sobs^ choked her utterance. He
sprang to her and took her in his arms. She was incapable
of resisting him ; but there was no yielding in her. Her head
lay on his bosom, passive horribly passive, like the head of a
corpse.
" Mercy ! My darling ! We will go away we will leave
England we will take refuge among new people, in a new
world ^I will change my name I will break with relatives,
friends, every body. Any thing, any thing, rather. than lose
you !"
She lifted her head slowly and looked at him.
He suddenly released her ; he reeled back like a man stag-
302 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
gered by a blow, and dropped into a chair. Before she had
uttered a word he saw the terrible resolution in her face-
Death, rather than yield to her own weakness and disgrace
him.
She stood with her hands lightly clasped in front of her.
Her grand head was raised ; her soft gi'ay eyes shone again
nndimmed by tears. The storm of emotion had swept over
her and had passed away. A sad tranquillity was in her face;
a gentle resignation was in her voice. The calm of a mar-
tyr was the calm that confronted him as she spoke her last
words.
"A woman who has lived my life, a woman who has suffer-
ed what I have suffered, may love you as I love you ^but
she must not be your wife. That place is too high above her.
Any other place is too far below her and below you." She
paused, and advancing to the bell, gave the signal for her de-
parture. That done, she slowly retraced her steps until she
stood at Julian's side.
Tenderly she lifted his head and laid it for a moment on
her bosom. Silently she stooped and touched his forehead
with her lips. All the gratitude that filled her heart and all
the sacrifice that rent it were in those two actions so mod-
estly, so tenderly performed ! As the last lingering pressure
of her fingers left him, Julian burst into tears.
The servant answered the bell. At the moment when he
opened the door a woman's voice was audible in the hall
speaking to him.
" Let the child go in," the voice said. " I will wait here."
The child appeared the same forlorn little creature who
had reminded Mercy of her own early years on the day when
she and Horace Holmcroft had been out for their walk.
There was no beauty in this child; lio halo of romance
brightened the commonplace horror of her story. She came
cringing. into the room, staring stupidly at the magnificence
ali round her tlie daw^^l^^ oi \}^^ "LaYvdotv streets 1 the pet
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 303
creation of the laws of political economy ! the savage and ter-
rible product of a worn-out system of government and of a
civilization rotten to its core ! Cleaned for the first time in
her life, fed sufficiently for the first time in her life, dressed in
clothes instead of rags for the first time in her life, Mercy's
sister in adversity crept fearfully over the beautiful carpet,
and stopped wonder-struck before the marbles of an inlaid
table a blot of mud on the splendor of the room.
Mercy turned from Julian to meet the child. The wom-
an's heart, hungering in its horrible isolation for something
that it might harmlessly love, welcomed the rescued waif of
the streets as a consolation sent from God. She caught the
stupefied little creature up in her arms. " Kiss me !" she
whispered, in the reckless agony of the moment. " Call me
sister 1" The child stared, vacantly. Sister meant nothing
to her mind but an older girl who was strong enough to beat
her.
She put the child down again, and turned for a last look at
the man whose happiness she had wrecked ^in pity to Mm,
He had never moved. His head was down ; his face was
hidden. She went back to him a few steps.
" The others have gone from me without one kind word.
Can you forgive me ?"
He held out his hand to her without looking up. Sorely as
she had wounded him, his generous nature understood her.
True to her from the first, he was true to her still.
"God bless and comfort you," he said, in broken tones.
"The earth holds no nobler woman than you."
She knelt and kissed the kind hand that pressed hers for
the last time. " It doesn't end with this world," she whisper-
ed : " there is a better world to come !" Then she rose, and
went back to the child. Hand in hand the two citizens of the
Government of God outcasts of the Government of Man
passed slowly down the length of the room. Then out into
the hall. Then out into the night. T!\i^\iei^^^ c3isi^ ^\- '^^
14
t04 laS MWW MAGBJOMar.
dottog door tolled the knell of their departare. They wwm
gone.
Bat the orderly routine of the house inexorable as deaihr-
pursued its appointed course. As the clock struck the hoar
the dinner-bcU rang. An interval of a minute passed, and
marked the limit of dday. The butler appeared at the din-
log-room door.
" Dinner is senredi rir.**
Julian looked up. The empty room met his ey^ ' Some^
thing white lay on the o^iliet dose by him. It was her han^
kerohief ^wet with her tears. He took it up and pressed it
to his lips. Was that to be the last of her? Had she left
him forever ?
The native ^ergy of the man, arming itself with all the
might of his love, kindled in him again. No I^ White Hft
was in him, while time was before him, there was 4he hope (d
winning her yet I
He turned to the servant, reckless of what his face might
betray.
" Where is Lady Janet ?"
" In the dining-room, sir.'* '
He reflected for a moment. His own influence had failed.
Through what other influence could he now hope to reach
her ? As the question crossed his mind the light broke on
him. He saw the way back to her through the influence of
Lady Janet.
" Her ladyship is waiting, sir."
Julian entered the dining-room*
THE NSW MAGDALBN. 305
EPILOGUE:
CONTAINING SELECTIONS PBOM THE COERESPONBENCE OJf
MISS GBACB BOSEBEBBY AND MB. HOBACE HOLMCBOFT ; TO
WHICH ABE ADDED EXTBACTS FBOM THE DIaBY OP THE
', ' KVEBEND JULIAN 6BAY..
I.
JFi'om Mb. Hobace Holmcbopt to Mxso Gbace Rose-
BEBBY*
"I HASTEN to thank you, dear Miss Roseberiy, for your
last kind letter, received by yesterday's mail from Canada.
Believe me, I appreciate your generous readiness to pardon
and forget what I so rudely said to you at a time when the
arts of an adventuress had blinded me to the truth. In the
grace which has forgiven me I recognize the inbred sense of
justice of a true lady. Birth and breeding can never fail to
assert themselves : I believe in them, thank God, more firrnly
than ever.
" You ask me to keep you informed of the progress of Ju-
lian Gray's infatuation, and of the course of conduct pursued
toward him by Mercy Merrick.
" If you had not favored me by explaining your object, I
might have felt some surprise at receiving from a lady in
your position such a request as this. But the motives by
which you describe yourself as being actuated are beyond
dispute. The existence of Society, as you truly say, is threat-
ened by the present lamentable prevalence of Liberal ideas
throughout the length and breadth of the land. We can only
hope to protect ourselves against impostors interested in gain-
ing a position among persons of our rank by becoming in
some sort (unpleasant as it may be) familiar with the arts
306 THE NEW MAGDALEN.
by which imposture too frequently succeeds. If we wish to
know to what daring lengths cunning can go, to what pitiable
self-delusion credulity can consent, we must watch the proceed-
ings even while we shrink from them of a Mercy Merrick
and a Julian Gray.
" In taking up my narrative again, where my last letter left
off, I must venture to set you right on one point.
'' Certain expressions which have escaped your pen suggest
to me that you blame Julian Gr^y as the cause of Lady Ja-
net's regretable visit to the Refuge the day after Mercy Mer-
rick had left her house. This is not quite correct. Julian,
as you will presently see, has enough to answer for without
being held responsible for errors of judgment in which he
has had no share. Lady Janet (as she herself told me) went
to the Refuge of her own free-will to ask Mercy Merrick's
pardon for the language which she had used on the previous
day. * I passed a night of such misery as no words can de-
scribe ' this, I assure you, is what her ladyship really said to
me ' thinking over what my vile pride and selfishness and
obstinacy had made me say and do. I would have gone down
on my knees to beg her pardon if she would have let me. My
first happy moment was when I won her consent to come and
visit me sometimes at Mablethorpe House.'
" You will, I am sure, agree with me that such extravagance
as this is to be pitied rather than blamed. How sad to see
the decay of the faculties with advancing age ! It is a ma^
ter of grave anxiety to consider how much longer poor Lady
Janet can be trusted to manage her own affairs. I shall take
an opportunity of touching on the matter delicately when I
next see her lawyer.
" I am straying from my subject. And is it not strange?
I am writing to you as confidentially as if we were old
friends.
" To return to Julian Gray. Innocent of instigating his
aunt's first visit to the Refuge, he is guilty of having induced
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 307
her to go there for the second time the day after I had dis-
patched my last letter to you. Lady Janet's object on this
occasion was neither more nor less than to plead her nephew's
cause as humble suitor for the hand of Mercy Merrick. Im-
agine the descendant of one of the oldest families in England
inviting an adventuress in a Refuge to honor a clergyman of
the Church of England by becoming his wife! In what
times do we live! My dear mother shed tears of shame
wheli she heard of it. How you would love and admire my
mother !
" I dined at Mablethorpe House, by previous appointment,
on the day when Lady Janet returned from her degrading er-
rand.
" * Well ?' I said, waiting, of course, until the servant was
out of the room.
" * Well,' Lady Janet answered, * Julian was quite right.'
"* Quite right in what ?'
"*In saying that the earth holds no nobler woman than
Mercy Merrick.'
" * Has she refused him again ?'
" * She has refused him again.'
" * Thank God !' I felt it feiTently, and I said it fervently.
Lady Janet laid down her knife and fork, and fixed one of her
fierce looks on me.
" * It may not be your fault, Horace,' she said, * if your na-
ture is incapable of comprehending what is great and gener-
ous in other natures higher than yours. But the least you
can do is to distrust your own capacity of appreciation.- For*
the future keep your opinions (on questions which you don't
understand) modestly to yourself. I have a tenderness for
you for your father's sake ; and I take the most favorable
view of your conduct toward Mercy Merrick. I humanely
consider it the conduct of a fool.' (Her own words. Miss
Boseberry. I assure you once more, her own words.) * But
don't trespass too far on my indulgence don't insinuate again
1
i08 TBM nw JEiODAcnr.
thfti a woiiiaa wlio if good enough (if sbo died tMtt Bigi!t)'tb
go to heaven, 19 fiol good enough to be my nephew's wifie/
*^I ezpreseed to joa ny conviction a little way bacd: that
it was doabtftd whether pocHr Lady Janet wonld be much
longer competent to manage her own affairs. F^riiaps yotr
thought me has^ then f What do you think now f
** It was, of oonrse, useless to reply seriously to the extraor-
dinary rq^rimand that I had received. Besides^ I was reaH)
shooli^ by a decay of prinmple which proceeded but too
plainly from decay of the mental powers. I made a sooUnng
and respectful reply, and I was &vored in return with some
account of what had really happened at the Refuge. Hy
mother and my sisters were disgusted when I repeated the
particulars to them. Yon will be disgusted too.
** The interesting penitent (expecting Lady JanetV visit)
was, of course, discovered in a touching domestio position !
She had a foundlmg baby asleep on her lap; and she was
teaching the alphabet to an ugly little vagabond girl whose
acquaintance she had first made in the street. Just the sort
of artful tableau vivant to impose on an old lady was it
not?
" Tou will understand what followed, when Lady Janet
opened her matrimonial negotiation. Having perfected her-
self in her part, Mercy Merrick, to do her justice, was not the
woman to play it badly. The most magnanimous sentiments
flowed from her lips. She declared that her future life was
devoted to acts of charity, typified, of course, by the found-
ling infant and the ugly little girl. However she might per-
sonally suffer, whatever might be the sacrifice of her own feel-
ings observe how artfully this was put, to insinuate that she
was herself in love with him ! she could not accept from Mr.
Julian Gray an honor of which she was unworthy. Her grat-
itude to him and her interest in him alike forbade her to com-
promise his brilliant future by consenting to a marriage which
would degrade him in the estimation of all his friends. She
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 309
thanked him (with tears); she thanked Lady Janet (with
more tears )^ but she dare not, in the interests of his honor
and his happiness, accept the hand that be offered to her.
God bless and comfort him ; and God help her to bear with
her hard lot !
"The object of this contemptible comedy is plain enough
to my mind. She is simply holding off (Julian, as you kno\;
is a poor man) until the influence of Lady Janet's persuasion
is backed by the opening of Lady Janet's purse. In one word
Settlements ! But for the profanity of the woman's lan-
guage, and the really lamentable credulity of the poor old
lady, the whole thing would make a fit subject for a bur-
lesque.
" But the saddest part of the stoiy is still to come.
"In due course of time the lady^s decision was communi-
cated to Julian Gray. He took leave of his senses on the
spot. Can you believe it ? he has resigned his curacy ! At
a time when the church is thronged every Sunday to hear
him preach, this madman shuts the door and walks out of
the pulpit. Even Lady Janet was not far enough gone in
folly to abet him in this. She remonstrated, like the rest of
his friends. Perfectly useless I He had but one answer to
every thing they could say: *My career is closed.' What
stuff !
" You will ask, naturally enough, what this perverse man is
going to do next. I don't scruple to say that he is bent on
committing suicide. Pray do not be alarmed ! There is no
fear of the pistol, the rope, or the river. Julian is simply
courting death within the limits of the law.
" This is strong language, I know. You shall hear what
the facts are, and judge for yourself.
" Having resigned his curacy, his next proceeding was to
offer his services, as volunteer, to a new missionary enter-
prise on the West Coast of Africa. The persons at the head
of the mission proved, most fortunately, to have a propei
910 TBB nw.MAaPAUBir.
tasse of liimr dttt)^. Eipresndg their conTiolscm f llie ^ae
ci Julian's aaaiBtanee in the ia[iott handsome terms, they aunle
it nevertheless a condition of entertaining his pi
he should submit to examination by a eompetent-
man. After some hesitation he consented to this. Hie doe-
tor's report was eondudye. In Jidian's present state of
healtii the dim^te of West Africa woid4 in all ptobaMiitj
IdU him in three months' time.
^FHled in his first altonpt^ he addressed hunsdf next
to a Lmdott llismcm. Hn it was impossifaie to rtdse the
qQestim of climate; and h^re,I grieTe to say^he has sno-
ceeded.
^He is now working in other words, he is now dd^b^
ately risking his life- in the IGssion to hre^ An^ior ^i^ldsi
The district known by tids name k sitealed tei^^rcniiotepart
of London, near the Thiunes. It is notcHJonydy infe^ed by
the most desperate and degraded set of wretdras in the whde
metropolitan popalation, and it is so thickly inhabited that it
is hardly ever completely free from epidemic disease. In
this horrible place, and among these dangerous people, Julian
is now employing himself from morning to night. None of
his old friends ever see him. Since he joined the Mission he
has not even called on Lady Janet Roy.
" My pledge is redeemed the facts are before you. Am I
wrong in taking my gloomy view of the prospect ? I can
not forget that this unhappy man was once my friend ; and I
really see no hope for him in the future. Deliberately self-
exposed to the violence of ruffians and the outbreak of dis-
ease, who is to extricate him from his shocking position?
The one person who can do it is the person whose associa-
tion with him would be his ruin Mercy Merrick. Heaven
only knows what disasters it may be my painful duty to com-
municate to you in my next letter !
" You are so kind as to ask me to tell you something about
myself aind my plans.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 311
"I have very little to say on either head. After what I
have suffered my feelings trampled on, my confidence be-
trayed I am as yet hardly capable of deciding what I shall
do. Returning to my old profession to the army is out of
the question, in these leveling days, when any obscure person
who can pass an examination may call himself my brother of-
ficer, and may one day, perhaps, command me as my superior
in rank. If I think of any career, it is the career of diploma-
cy. Birth and breeding have not quite disappeared as essen-
tial qualifications in that branch of the public service. But I
have decided nothing as yet.
" My mother and sisters, in ttie event of your returning to
England, desire me to say that it will afford them the great-
est pleasure to make your acquaintance. Sympathizing with
me, they do not forget what you too have suffered. A warm
welcome awaits you when you pay your first visit at our
house. Most truly yours, Hobace Holmcboft."
II.
From Miss Grace Roseberry to Mr. Horace Holmcboft.
"Dbab Mr. Holmcropt, ^I snatch a few moments from
my other avocations to thank you for your most interesting
and delightful letter. How well you describe, how accurate-
ly you judge ! If Literature stood a little higher as a pro-
fession, I should almost advise you but no ! if you entered
Literature, how could you associate with the people whom
you would be likely to meet?
"Between ourselves, I always thought Mr. Julian Gray an
overrated man. I will not say he has justified my opinion.
I will only say I pity him. But, dear Mr. Holmcroft, how
can you, with your sound judgment, place the sad alternatives
now before him on the same level ? To die in Green Anchor
Fields, or to fall into the clutches of that vile wretch is there
any comparison between the two ? Better a thousand times
die at the post of duty than marry Mercy Merrick.
14*
fit tu nnriaootAuar;
^.AfThaTe wriUoi the ODesUiTe's naaie,! may add so as
to have all- the ecKmer dme with the subject that I shalt
look with amd^ for yoor next letter. Do Bot suppose that I
feel the smalieat cnrionty about this degraded and designiog
woman* My interest in her is pnrdy religious. To persons
of my devout turn of mind she is an awful warning. When
I fe^ Satan near me it will be nteh a means of grace to
think of Mercy Merrick 1
** Poor Lady Janet I I noticed those signs of mental decay
to which you so fedingly allude at the last interview I had
wiih her in MaUethorpe House. If you can find an of^rt^^
nity, will you say that I wish her well, here and hereafter?
and will you please add that I do not omit to remembw her
in my prayers?
^ There is just a chance of my visiting Ibglimd toward the
dose of the autumn. My fortunes have changed since I wrote
last I have been received as reader and companion by alady
who is the wife of one of oar high judicial functionaries in
this part of the world. I do not take much interest in him;
he is what they call a * self-made man.' His wife is charming.
Besides being a person of highly intellectual tastes, she is
greatly her husband's superior as you will understand when
I tell you that she is related to the Gommerys of Pommery ;
not the Pommerys of Gommery, who (as your knowledge of
our old families will inform you) only claim kindred with the
younger branch of that ancient race.
" In the elegant and improving companionship which I now
enjoy I should feel quite happy but for one drawback. The
climate of Canada is not favorable to ray kind patroness, and
her medical advisers recommend her to winter in London.
In this event, I am to have the privilege of accompanying
her. Is it necessary to add that my first visit will be paid at
your house ? I feel already united by sympathy to your moth-
er and your sisters. There is a sort of freemasonry among
gentlewomen, is there not ? With best thanks and remem-
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 313
brances, and many delightful anticipations of your next let-
ter, believe me, dear Mr. Holmcrof t,
" Truly yours, Grace Rosebeery.'*
in.
From Mb. Hobacb Holmcboft to Miss Grace Rose-
BERRx.
" My dear Miss Roseberry, Pray excuse my long si-
lence. I have waited for mail after mail, in the hope of being
able to send you some good news at last. It is useless to
wait longer. My worst forebodings have been realized : my
painful duty compels me to write a letter which will sui^prise
and shock you.
" Let me describe events in their order as they happened.
In this way I may hope to gradually prepare your mind for
what is to come.
"About three weeks after I wrote to you last, Julian Gray
paid the penalty of his headlong rashness. I do not mean
that he suffered any actual violence at the hands of the people
among whom he had cast his lot On the contrary, he suc-
ceeded, incredible as it may appear, in producing a favora-
ble impression on the ruffians about him. As I understand
it, they began by respecting his courage in venturing among
them alone ; and they ended in discovering that he was really
interested in promoting their welfare. It is to the other peril,
indicated in my last letter, that he has fallen a victim the
peril of disease. Not long after he began his labors in the
district fever broke out. We only heard that Julian had
been struck down by the epidemic when it was too late to re-
move hinl from the lodging that he occupied in the neigh-
borhood. I made inquiries personally the moment the news
reached us. The doctor in attendance refused to answer for
his life.
" In this alarming state of things poor Lady Janet, imput
U4 TBM XSW ]fAG0ALSV
Are and imrettpoiiable as imial^ imisli^ on lesvii^ MiM-
tborpe Home and takiog op her residenoe near her nephew.
^finding it imposnble to persuade her of the fdly of re-
moving from home and its comforts at her age, I felt it my
duty to accompany her. We found accommodation (such as
it was) in a riyer-side inn, used by ship-captains and commer-
cial travdera. I took it on mjadf to protide the best medical
assistance, Lady Janet's insane prejudices agiunst doctors im*
pdUng hor to leaTe this important part of die arrangem^ts
entirely in my hands.
. ** It* is needless to weary yon by entering into details on the
subject cl Julian's iUness.
^Tbe &er puriued the ordinary course, nd was chatao*
terized by the usual intervals of delirium and ediaustioii
succeedii^ each other. Subsequant events, whidi it is, unfor-
tunately, necessary to rdate to yon, leave me no choice but
to dwell (as briefly as possiUe) m the painful subject of the
delirium. In other cases the wanderings of fever-stricken
people present, I am told, a certain variety of range. In Ju-
lian's case they were limited to one topic. He talked inces-
santly of Mercy Merrick. His invariable petition to his med-
ical attendants entreated them to send for her to nurse him.
Day and night that one idea was in his mind, and that one
name on his lips.
"Tho doctors naturally made inquiries as to this absent
person. I was obliged (in confidence) to state the circum-
stances to them plainly.
"The eminent physician whom I had called in to superin-
tend the treatment behaved admirably. Though he has risen
from the lower order of the people, he has, strange to say,
the instincts of a gentleman. He thoroughly understood our
trying position, and felt all the importance of preventing such
a person as Mercy Merrick from seizing the opportunity of
intruding herself at the bedside. A soothing prescription (I
have his own authority for saying it) was all that was re-
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 315
quired to meet the patient's case. The local doctor, on the
other hand, a young man (and evidently a red-hot radical),
proved to be obstinate, and, considering his position, insolent
as well. * I have nothing to do with the lady's character, and
with your opinion of it,' he said to me. * I have only, to the
best of my judgment, to point out to you the likeliest means
of saving the patient's life. Our art is at the end of its re-
sources. Send for Mercy Merrick, no matter who she is or
what she is. There is just a chance especially if she proves
to be a sensible person and a good nurse that he may aston-
ish you all by recognizing her. In that case only, his recovery
is probable. If you persist in disregarding his entreaties, if
you let the delirium go on for f on r-and- twenty hours more, he
is a dead man.'
"Lady Janet was, most unluckily, present when this im-
pudent opinion was delivered at the bedside.
** Need I tell you the sequel ? Called upon to choose be-
tween the course indicated by a physician who is making his
five thousand a year, and who is certain of the next med-
ical baronetcy, and the advice volunteered by an obscure
general practitioner at the East End of London, who is not
making his five hundred a year need I stop to inform you
of her ladyship's decision ? You know her ; and you will
only too well understand that her next proceeding was to
pay a third visit to the Refuge.
** Two hours later I give you my word of honor I am not
exaggerating Mercy Merrick was established at Julian's bed-
side.
" The excuse, of course, was that it was her duty not to
let any private scruples of her own stand in the way, when a
medical authority had declared that she might save the pa-
tient's life. You will not be surprised to hear that I with-
drew from the scene. The physician followed my example
after having written his soothing prescription, and having
been grossly insulted by the local practitioner's refusing t?
$16 m raw haooauck;
Hudse ate o it I wit baek in the doetor's carriage. He
qpoke ittoet leeKi^^ and properly. Iflthont ^ing any pos-
itive opinion, I ooidd aee that he had atandoned all hope of
JnUaa's recorery. * We are in the hands of Providenoe, Mr.
Hohneroft f thoee were his last words as he set me down at
my mother's door.
** I have hardly the heart to go on. If I stodied my own
wishes, I should led indfaied to stop here.
^ Let me, at least, hasten to the end. In two or three dxpf
time I rebeived my first intelHgenoe of the patient and his
nurse. Lady Janet inlonned me that he had reoogniaed h^.
When I heard this I lelt prqiared f Hr what was to oome.
The next report annonneed that he was gdhing strength, and
the next that he was out of danger. Upon this Lady Janet
^returned to MaUethorpe House. I eaUed there a week ago
and heard that he had been r^noved to the sea-side. leafleS
yesterday ^and received the latest information from her lady-
ship's own lips. My pen almost refuses to write it. Mercy
Merrick has consented to marry him !
"An outrage on Society ^that is hdw my mother and my
sisters view it ; that is how you will view it too. My mother
has herself struck Julian's name off her invitation-list. The
servants have their orders, if he presumes to call : * Not at
home.'
" I am unhappily only too certain that I am correct in writ-
ing to you of this disgraceful marriage as of a settled thing.
Lady Janet went the length of showing me the letters one
from Julian, the other from the woman herself. Fancy Mer-
cy Merrick in correspondence with Lady Janet Roy I ad-
dressing her as * My dear Lady Janet,' and signing, ' Yours
affectionately !'
" I had not the patience to read either of the letters through.
Julian's tone is the tone of a Socialist; in my opinion his
bishop ought to be informed of it. As for Aer, she plays her
part just as cleverly with her pen as she played it with her
THB NEW MAGDALEN. 317
tongue. * I can not disguise from myself that I am wrong in
yielding .... Sad forebodings fill my mind when I think of the
future .... I feel as if the first contemptuous look that is cast
at my husband will destroy my happiness, though it may not
disturb him, . . . As long as I was parted from him I could
control my own weakness, I could accept my hard lot. But
how can I resist him after having watched for weeks at his
bedside ; after having seen his first smile, and heard his first
grateful words to me while I was slowly helping him back to
life ?'
"There is the tone which she takes through four closely
written pages of nauseous humility and clap-trap sentiment !
It is enough to make one despise women. Thank God, there
is the contrast at hand to remind me of what is due to the
better few among the sex. I feel that my mother and my '
sisters are doubly precious to me now. May I add, on the
side of consolation, that I prize with hardly inferior gratitude
the privilege of corresponding with you f
" Farewell for the present. I am too rudely shaken in my
most cherished convictions, I am too depressed and disheart-
ened, to write more. All good wishes go with you, dear Miss
Roseberry, until we meet.
" Most truly yours, Hobacb Holmceopt."
IV.
Mdra/^U from the Diaby of The Bbyebbnd Julian
Gray.
FIRST EXTRACT.
"A month to-day since we were married ! I have
only one thing to say : I would cheerfully go through all that
I have suffered to live this one month over again. I never
knew what happiness was until now. And better still, I have
persuaded Mercy that it is all her doing. I have scattered
her misgivings to the winds ; she is obliged to submit to evi-
818 X8B VXIf UAaPAIMS.
dmo^mid to owb thai Ae mo naloe Uie luq;^diieai of my
life.
^ We go baek ta Lonioa lo-mofraw* - ^e regrets lesring
ibe traaqidl xetiremeDt of this remote seaside pfaiee she
dreads obaoge. I eaie iioliiuig Iw it. It is s^ meto sm
where I go^ so long as my wife is with me.^
it * " *
a0091 JEXXBAOT.
^The finrt eloiid has risen. I enteied the roomuBezpeet-
edly JQSt noW| and found her in tears;
^With oonaidenAle diffiofdty IprniBnaded her to USi me
what had happened* Are there any limits to^ the BHsehirf
that can be done by the tongue of a foolish wManf The
landlady at my lodgings is the woman^ in this ease. . Ha^ng
no deoided plans for the future as ye^ we returned (most un-
fortunately, as the evm^t has prored) to the roonis 4n Lcwden
whioh I inhabited in my baQbdkr days* /Kqr aro stiH mioe
for six weeks to come, and Mercy was unwilliog to let me
incur the expense of taking her to a hotel At breakfast this
morning I rashly congratulated myself (in my wife's hearing)
on finding that a much smaller collection than usual of letters
and cards had accumulated in my absence. Breakfast over,
I was obliged to go out. Painfully sensitive, poor thing, to
any change in my experience of the little world around roe
which it is possible to connect with the event of my marriage,
Mercy questioned the landlady, in my absence, about the
diminished number of my visitors and my correspondents.
The woman seized the opportunity of gossiping about me and
my affairs, and my wife's quick perception drew the right
conclusion unerringly. My marriage has decided certain
wise heads of families on discontinuing their social relations
with me. The facts, unfortunately, speak for themselves.
People who in former years habitually called upon me and
invited me or who, in the event of my absence, habitually
wrote to me at this season have abstained with a remarks-
ble unanimity from calling, inviting, or writing now.
THS NEW MAGDALEN. 319
" It would have been sheer waste of time to say' nothing
of its also implying a want of confidence in my wife if I had
attempted to set things right by disputing Mercy's conclu-
sion. I could only satisfy her that not so much as the shad-
ow of disappointment or mortification rested on my mind.
In this way I have, to some extent, succeeded in composing
my poor darling. But the wound has been inflicted, and the
wound is felt. There is no disguising that result. I must
face it boldly.
^^ Trifling as this incident is in my estimation, it has de-
cided me on one point already. In shaping my future course
I am now resolved to act on my own convictions in prefer-
ence to taking the well-meant advice of such friends as are
still left to me.
^^ All my little success in life has been gained in the pulpit.
I am what is termed a popular preacher ^but I have never,
in my secret self, felt any exultation in my own notoriety, or
any extraordinary respect for the means by which it has been
won. In the first place, I have a very low idea of the im-
portance of oratory as an intellectual accomplishment. There
is no other art in which the conditions of success are so easy
of attainment ; there is no other art in the practice of which
so much that is purely supei^ficial passes itself oE habitually
for something that claims to be. profound. Then, again, how
poor it is in the results which it achieves ! Take my own
case. How often (for example) have I thundered with all
my heart and soul against the wicked extravagance of dress
among women against their filthy false hair, and their nau-
seous powders and paints ! How often (to take another ex-
ample) have I denounced the mercenary and material spirit of
the age the habitual corruptions and dishonesties of com-
merce, in high places and in low ! What good have I done ?
I have delighted the very people whom it was my object to
rebuke. * What a charming sermon !' * More eloquent than
ever I' *I used to dread the sermon at the other church do
70a kaofWf I ^pille -look forward to it noir' That k t^ eE-
leet I prodnoe on Sunday. On Mimday the women are off
to the milKneni to qpend more monqr than ever; the C%
men are off to bnainesa to make more money than evi-
while my grooer^lond in my praises in hb Sunday coat^ turos
up his weekday sleeves aiMl adulterates his favorite preach-
er's sugar as oheerflll^p' as usoal I
** I have eha^ in past years, fdt the objections to pnrso-
ing my career which are here indicated. They were bitt^
present to my nnnd whi I resigned my curacy, and th^
strongly influence me now.
^I am weary of my cheaply won success in the pnlpk^ I
am weary of sodety as I find it in my time. I felt some rs^
spect for myseli^ and some heart and hope in my work, amoi^
the nuserable wretches in Green Andior Melds. But I can
not^ and must not^ return among them : I have no right, nanxr^
to trifle with my health and my life.^ I must go bade to ny
preaching, or I must leave England. Among a primitive
people, away from the cities in the far and fertile West of
the great American continent I might live happily with ray
wife, and do good among my neighbors, secure of providing
for our wants out of the modest little income which is al-
most useless to me here. In the life which I thus picture to
myself I see love, peace, health, and duties and occupations
that are worthy of a Christian man. What prospect is be-
fore me if I take the advice of my friends and stay here?
Work of which I am weary, because I have long since ceased
to respect it; petty malice that strikes at mo through my
wife, and mortifies and humiliates her, turn where she may.
If I had only myself to think of, I might defy the worst that
malice can do. But I have Mercy to think of ^Mercy, whom
I love better than my own life ! Women live, poor things,
in the opinions of others. I have had one warning already
of what my wife is likely to suffer at the hands of my
* friends * Heaven forgive me for misusing the word ! Shall
THE NEW MAGDALEX. 321
I deliberately expose her to fresh mortifications ? and this
for the sake of returning to a career the rewards of which
I no longer prize ? No ! We will both be happy we will
both be free ! Gk)d is merciful, Nature is kind, Love is true,
in the New World as well as the Old, To the New World
we will go !"
THIED EXTEACT.
"I hardly know whether I have done right or wrong. I
mentioned yesterday to Lady Janet the cold reception of me
on my return to London, and the painful sense of it felt by
my wife.
*' My aunt looks at the matter from her own peculiar point
of view, and makes light of it accordingly. ' You never did,
and never will, understand Society, Julian,' said her ladyship.
* These poor stupid people simply don't know what to do.
They are waiting to be told by a person of distinction wheth-
er they are, or are not, to recognize your marriage. In plain
English, they are waiting to be led by Me. Consider it done.
I will lead them.'
"I thought my aunt was joking. The event of to-day has
shown me that she is terribly in earnest. Lady Janet has
issued invitations for one of her grand balls at M&blethorpe
House ; and she has caused the report to be circulated every-
where that the object of the festival is * to celebrate the mar-
riage of Mr. and Mrs. Julian Gray !'
" I at first refused to be present. To my amazement, how-
ever, Mercy sides with my aunt. She reminds me of all that
we both owe to Lady Janet ; and she has persuaded me to ni-
ter my mind. We are to go to the ball at my wife's ex-
press request !
" The meaning of this, as I interpret it, is that my poor
love is still pursued in secret by the dread that my marriage
has injured me in the general estimation. She will suffer
any thing, risk any thing, believe any thing, to be freed from
that one haunting doubt. Lady Janet predicts a social tri-
vmfhi and mj wUb drnprnt^^-wi^ mj wifei's 0OfBms:i6m!t-^
MoepU the piopbeoj. As f Hr me, I aiii pcepar^ i^ tb^ m
suit It wOI d ia our going to the Nov Worid, and toyi^
Soeie^ in its iatmaf^ smoiig tbe forests sod the jiaim* I
shall qnietlj prapaie lor our dqpsrtais^ and own whi^ I Itt?e
done at the right time tiiat is to say, when the ball is o?$r.?
^I hsTO met witii tbe man lor my piirpose--an.oId eoOege
friend el mlaeinow partner in a firm of ship-ownm^ lrg^
e(moerned in emigration*
^Qne of tbdr Tessds saQa lor Amerioa^ from the port of
Londcm, in a IcMrtnight^toiiehiog at Plyin^ollu. By. a ^rtii?
nate eoinddenoeiXadyJan^V ball takes place ini^ loH^ugM*
Iseemyway. . , ,
^Helped by the kindness of myfrtendylhaye amused te
have a cabin kept in reserve mi paym^t o| a spiall. deposit
If the ball ends (as I believe it will) in new mortifications for
Mercy do what they may, I defy them to mortify me I
have only to say the word by telegraph, and we shall catch
the ship at Plymouth.
" I know the effect it will have when I break the news to
her, but I am prepared with my remedy. The pages of my
diary, written in past years, will show plainly enough that it
is not she who is driving me away from England. She will
see the longing in me for other work and other scenes ex-
pressing itself over and over again long before the time when
we first met."
FIFTH EXTRACT.
"Mercy's ball dress a present from kind Lady Janet is
finished. I was allowed to see the first trial, or preliminary
rehearsal, of this work of art. I don't in the least understand
the merits of silk and lace ; but one thing I know ^my wife
will be the most beautiful woman at the ball.
"The same day 1 ca&e^i owluaL^^ /5^5v^\li ibank her, and
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 323
encountered a new revelation of the wayward and original
character of my dear old aunt.
" She was on the point of tearing up a letter when I went
into her room. Seeing me, she suspended her purpose and
handed me the letter. It was in Mercy's handwriting.
Lady Janet pointed to a passage on the last page. *Tell
your wife, with my love,' she said, * that I am the most obsti-
nate woman of the two. I positively refuse to read her, as I
positively refuse to listen to her, whenever she attempts to
return to that one subject. Now give me the letter back.'
I gave it back, and saw it torn up before my face. The * one
subject' prohibited to Mercy as sternly as ever is still the
subject of the personation of Grace Roseberry! Nothing
could have been more naturally introduced, or more delicate-
ly managed, than my wife's brief reference to the subject
No matter. The reading of the first line was enough. Lady
Janet shut her eyes and destroyed the letter ^Lady Janet is
determined to live and die absolutely ignorant of the true
story of * Mercy Merrick.' What unanswerable riddles we
are! Is it wonderful if we perpetually fail to understand
one another ?"
SIXTH EXTEACT.
"The morning after the ball
" It is done and over. Society has beaten Lady Janet. I
have neither patience nor time to write at length of it. We
leave for Plymouth by the afternoon express.
" We were rather late in arriving iat the ball. The mag-
nificent rooms were filling fast. Walking through them with
my wife, she drew my attention to a circumstance which I
had not noticed at the time. * Julian,' she said, ' look round
among the ladies, and tell me if you see any thing strange.'
As I looked round the band began playing a waltz. I ob-
served that a few people only passed by us to the dancing-
room. I noticed next that of those few fewer still were
young. At last it burst upon me. 'WVAi ^tXj^ccl ^Lssw^'CL^soa
{to 1$/% a lo prove llio rule), there were no young giris at
J^dj Janet's ball. 1 took Mercy at once back to the recep-
tftRHiMHII. Lady Janet's face showed that ehe too was aware
of l^Mt had happtntd. The guesia were still arrivJDg. We
noAni tbfl man 114 deir iriTM^tbe mm tod tbw'tnptlMn^
tbe men and thtir gmadtnother~btttv m plaM of tbeir t-r
loarried daogbttci^ eUwrtla exeoMC, offered with E ahamele
politeocai vcodarfal to aea. . TmI !niu was how tha ma-
trmifl in U|^ ^i badgot ava.tha diSovUr of maeticg Mn.
JoUaa Gfi^ at Ladf JaiM'a boosa.
"fjetawdoatriotJDttioatoeTaT'wifv Xbe^ioawhafMn^-^
presott abowed the aeedftd rapaot &r thnr buien: - "StUf
did their daty no, orerdid It, ia pwhapa-tbe better pfaraaa, ;
** I raaQy bad o adaqnate idaa^the eoarseDeunid ni
neet vhioh have flltered'tliur way through nociety in'lhen
later timea until I aav the reoeption aooorded to my w&
The days of prudery and prejn^oe ars diys gone. hy. Bx-^
cessive atniabUity and ezoessive liberality are the two favor-
ite assumptionfl of the modem generation. To see the worn-'
en expressing tlieir liberal forgetfalneBB of my wife's misfor-
tunes, and the men their amiable ansiety to encourage her
husband; to hear tbe same set phrases repeated in every
room 'So charmed to make your acqn^ntance, Mi-s. Gray;
so much obliged to dear Lady Janet for giving us this op-
portunity ! Julian, old man, what a beautiful creature ! I
envy you ; upon my Ifouor, I envy you !' to receive this sort
of welcome, emphasized by obtrusive hand -shakings, some-
times actually by downright kissings of my wife, and then to
look round and see that not one in thirty of these very peo-
ple had brought their unmarried daughters to the ball, was,
I honestly believe, to see civilized human nature in its basest
conceivable aspect, - The New World may have its dis^
pointments in store for us, but it can not possibly show us any
spectacle bo abject as the spectacle which we witoeesed last
night at my aunt's ball.
THE NEW MAGDALEN. 325
" Lady Janet marked her sense of the proceeding adopted
by her guests by leaving them to themselves. Her guests re-
mained and supped heartily notwithstanding. They all knew
by experience that there were no stale dishes and no cheap
wines at Mablethorpe House. They drank to the end of the
bottle, and they ate to the last truffle in the dish.
" Mercy and I had an interview with my aunt up stairs be-
fore we left. I felt it necessary to state plainly my resolution
to leave England. The scene that followed was so painful
that I can not prevail on myself to return to it in these pages.
vMy wife is reconciled to our departure ; and Lady -Janet ac-
companies us as far as Plymouth these are the results. No
words can express my sense of relief, now that it is all settled.
The one sorrow I shall carry;away with mo from the shores
of England will be the sorrow of parting with dear warm-
hearted Lady Janet. At her age it is a parting for life.
" So closer my connection with my own country. While I
have Mercy by my side I face the unknown future, certain of
carrying my happiness with me, go where I may. We shall
find five hundred adventurers like ourselves when we join the
emigrant ship, for whom their native land has no occupation
and no homB. Gentlemen of the Statistical Department, add
two more to the number of social failures produced by En-
gland in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and seventy-
one Julian Gray and Mercy Merrick."