Chapter V

by Mary Jane Holmes

　　THE FATAL LETTER

　　Julia and Fanny had been gone from home about four weeks when Mr.Middleton suddenly determined "to go and see his gals" and bring themhome. Accordingly he "fixed up right smart," as he thought, which meantthat he took off his beard and put on "a bran new pair of jeens." Hepreferred driving his own carriage, so he set off alone for Frankfort.

　　It was Friday morning, and as his daughters were in school, he stalkedinto Mrs. Crane's parlor to wait for them. Spying the piano, he sat downto it, and commenced producing a series of unearthly sounds, notaltogether unlike the fashionable music of the present day. Mrs.Carrington chanced to be crossing the hall and, hearing the noise from theparlor, looked in. As her eye fell upon the strange-looking, giant form ofMr. Middleton, she uttered a very delicate scream, and as she just thensaw Dr. Lacey entering the house, she staggered back a few paces, andtried to faint very gracefully. But the doctor caught her in his arms justin time to restore her to consciousness!

　　Mr. Middleton now came toward them, exclaiming, "Lightning guns! What's topay now? Skeered at me, are you, madam or miss, whichever you be? I won'thurt a har of your soft skull!"

　　"Ugh-u-u!" said Mrs. Carrington, shrinking from him in disgust, as headvanced toward her, and laid his large hand on her head, "just to see,"as he said, "if she were made of anything besides jewelry, curls andpaint."

　　At this allusion to her brilliant color, Mrs. Carrington relieved Dr.Lacey from the delightful duty of supporting her, and disappeared up thestairs, saying in no very gentle tones, "What an old brute!"

　　"Fire away thar," called our Mr. Middleton. "I am an old brute, Isuppose."

　　"But your right name is Mr. Middleton, I conclude," said Dr. Lacey.

　　Mr. Middleton started and answered, "How d'ye know that? Just as you'dknow his satanic majesty, if he should appear to you?"

　　"Something upon that principle," said Dr. Lacey, laughing, "but," hecontinued, "I am glad to see you, Mr. Middleton. I suppose you have cometo visit your daughters."

　　"Yes, and to take them home and let their mother and the rest of theblacks see them," answered Mr. Middleton; then after a pause he added,"They'll be right glad to see me, I reckon, or at least Sunshine will."

　　"Who is Sunshine?" asked Dr. Lacey.

　　"Well, now," said Mr. Middleton, "here you've lived with 'em four weeksand don't know that I call one Tempest and t'other Sunshine, and if you'veany wit, you'll know which is Sunshine."

　　Just then a voice was heard to exclaim, "There, I told you father washere. I hear him now talking about Sunshine," and Fanny rushed in, andthrowing her arms around her father's neck, kissed again and again hisrough cheek, while he suddenly felt the need of his red and yellow cottonhandkerchief, and muttered something about the "roads" being so infernaldusty that they made a fellow's eyes smart!

　　Then turning to Julia, who still stood in the door, he said, "Come,Tempest, none of your pranks! Come here and shake your old pap's paw. Youneedn't be afeared of this young spark, for he knows I'm your pap, and hehain't laughed at me neither." So Julia advanced and shook her father'shand with a tolerably good grace.

　　"I'm come for you to go home and see the folks," said Mr. Middleton; "soyou pick up your duds--and mind not to take a cussed bandbox--and afterdinner we'll start for home."

　　"It wants an hour of dinner time," said Julia, "and as we are not hungry,we can start in a few moments, if you like."

　　"Fury-ation," said Mr. Middleton, "I wonder if we can. Well, start on thenafoot, if you're in such a hurry. I shan't budge an inch till I've had mydinner; besides, I want to see Mr. Wilmot."

　　Julia saw that she must submit to the mortification of seeing her fatherat Mrs. Crane's dinner table, and with a beating heart she heard the bellsummon them to the dining room. Mrs. Carrington did not appear--her nerveshad received too great a shock--and for that Julia was thankful. Dr. Laceysat by her father and paid him every possible attention.

　　"Will you take soup, Mr. Middleton?" asked Mrs. Crane.

　　"What kind of soup? Beef soup, or mud turkle?"

　　"It is vermicelli," said Mrs. Crane, hardly able to keep her facestraight.

　　"Vermifuge--vermifuge," repeated Mr. Middleton. "That's almighty queerstuff to make soup on. No. I'm 'bleeged to you; I ain't in need of that armedicine."

　　Julia reddened, while Fanny burst into a laugh and said, "Father isn'tmuch used to French soups, I think."

　　"Use your napkin, father," softly whispered Julia.

　　"What shall I use that for?" said he. "My trousers are all tobacco spitnow, and grease won't hurt 'em any now. Halloo! Here waiter, bring me adecent fork, for Lord knows I can't eat with this here shovel and if Itake my fingers Tempest'll raise a row de dow."

　　The servant looked at his mistress, who said, "Samuel, bring Mr. Middletona steel fork."

　　When the dessert was brought in Mr. Middleton again exclaimed, as he tookhis plate of pudding, "Now what can this be?"

　　"It is tapioca pudding," said Mrs. Crane.

　　"Tap-an-oakky," returned Mr. Middleton. "Well, if you don't have thequeerest things to eat! You ought to come to my house. We don't have anyyour chicken fixin's nor little three-cornered hankerchers laid out ateach plate."

　　At last, to Julia's great relief, dinner was over, and she got her fatherstarted for home. Suddenly Mr. Middleton exclaimed, "That ar doctor is amighty fine chap. Why don't you set your cap for him, Sunshine?"

　　"It would be of no use, father," answered Fanny.

　　"Wall, if I'm not mistaken, he's laid his snare for a bird, and I don'tcare how soon you fall into it, darling," said Mr. Middleton.

　　"How ridiculous!" exclaimed Julia.

　　"Ho now, jealous, are you, Tempest?" said her father. "What in thunder doyou think he'll want of you, who are engaged to Mr. Wilmot?"

　　This was a truth which had troubled Julia, and she greatly regretted herengagement, for she well knew Dr. Lacey never would think of her as longas he thought she belonged to another. She had watched with a jealous eyethe growing intimacy between him and Fanny, and resolved to leave no meansuntried to prevent a union between them, and to secure the doctor forherself. To do this she knew she must break her engagement with Mr.Wilmot, and also give Dr. Lacey a bad opinion of her sister. She felt sureof success, for when did she undertake anything and fail? Sinful girl! Shewas freed from her engagement in a way she little dreamed of.

　　Four weeks from the time of her first visit home, word came that Mr.Wilmot was sick and would not be able to teach that day. He had beenunwell for several days, and next morning it was announced that he had thetyphoid fever. Fanny's first impulse was to go and see him, but Juliaprevented her by saying that he would send for her when he wanted her.

　　That evening Dr. Lacey told Julia that Mr. Wilmot had expressed a wish tosee her. She went rather unwillingly, and something in her manner musthave betrayed it, for he seemed troubled, and regarded her with an anxiouslook. She however manifested no affection, and but very little interestfor him, and inwardly resolved that when she came again her sister shouldaccompany her. That night he grew worse, and as there was of course noschool, Julia hired some one to take herself and sister home. Earnestlydid Fanny entreat her to remain and watch over Mr. Wilmot.

　　"I shall do no such thing," said Julia. "It would not be proper, and Ishould be talked about."

　　"Well, then," said Fanny, "I shall stay till mother sends for me. I do notcare if I am talked about."

　　This rather pleased Julia, who said, "Well, you can stay if you like. Idare say you care more for him than I do, and you can tell him so, if youplease."

　　"Oh, Julia," said Fanny, "what has changed you so toward Mr. Wilmot?"

　　"Nothing in particular," replied Julia. "I never liked him very much."

　　So Julia started for home, while Fanny took her station by the bedside ofher beloved teacher. When Julia reached home, she found that her fatherhad left the day before for Missouri. He owned land there, and as he hadgone to make some improvements on it, he would probably be absent twomonths. Julia carelessly told her mother of Mr. Wilmot's illness, and thatFanny had stayed to watch him. When Mrs. Middleton heard this, hermaternal fears were roused lest her daughter should take the fever, and ina few days she went herself to Frankfort to bring Fanny home.

　　She found Mr. Wilmot very ill, but not as yet dangerously so, and afterstaying a day, she announced her intention of taking Fanny home.

　　"Why not leave her?" said Dr. Lacey. "She seems peculiarly adapted to asick room, and will do him more good than a dozen physicians."

　　"Yes, let her stay," said Mr. Wilmot, and drawing Mrs. Middleton closelyto him, he whispered, "Tell Julia to come to me, will you?"

　　Mrs. Middleton promised that she would, but persisted in taking Fanny.When Mr. Wilmot's message was given to Julia, she said, "No, indeed, I'llnot go. I could do him no good."

　　Ike was sent to Frankfort every day to inquire after Mr. Wilmot, and seeif anything was wanted, and each night Fanny waited anxiously for hisreturn. As soon as she saw him enter the wood, she would run to him, andinquire for Mr. Wilmot. Julia, however, manifested no anxiety whatever.She would not have acknowledged that she hoped he would die, and yet eachtime that she heard he was better her spirits sank, for fear he would yetlive. At last Ike brought to Fanny the joyful intelligence that the crisiswas passed, and Mr. Wilmot was out of danger.

　　That night, in the solitude of her chamber, Julia communed with herself asfollows: "And so he'll live after all. Well, I may as well let him know atonce that I will not marry him." So saying, she opened her portfolio, andwrote the following note:

　　"Mr. Wilmot:

　　"Sir--When I became engaged to you I was very young and am still so;consequently, you will hardly be surprised when you learn that I havechanged my mind and wish to have our engagement dissolved.

　　"Yours truly, as a friend,

　　"JULIA MIDDLETON."

　　Ike did not go to Frankfort again for two or three days, but when he did,he was the bearer of this heartless note. Mr. Wilmot was indeed better andwhen he heard Ike was in the house he expressed a desire to see him, as hewished to send some word to Julia. When Ike was ushered into the sickroom, he immediately handed his young mistress' letter to Mr. Wilmot, whoeagerly took it, for he recognized the handwriting of his idol. Hastilybreaking the seal, he read twice the cruel lines before he was convincedthat he read aright; then the paleness on his cheek grew paler, and wassucceeded by a deep flush.

　　When Ike asked what he should tell the folks at home, Mr. Wilmot's voicewas husky as he answered, "Nothing, Ike, tell them nothing." Ike wasalarmed at the change which had come over his young master, and called forassistance.

　　From that time Mr. Wilmot hourly grew worse. Mrs. Middleton was sent for,and a telegram was forwarded to his friends in New York, bidding them comesoon if they would see him alive. Mr. Miller, who was teaching in adistant part of the country, dismissed his school to attend his dyingfriend. It was heartrending to hear Mr. Wilmot in his delirium, call forJulia to come to him--to let him look on her face once more before he died.Then he would fancy himself at home and would describe Julia to his sisterin all the passionate fervor of a devoted lover; then he would think itwas Julia who was sick, and would beg of those around him to save her, andnot let his loved one die. At last Mrs. Middleton could bear his pleadingsno longer. She resolved to go home and persuade her hard-hearted daughter,if possible, to go to the dying man.

　　Just before she was ready to leave, consciousness returned to him for afew moments, and calling her to his bedside, he asked her where she wasgoing. On being told he replied, "Mrs. Middleton, I am dying. When youreturn I shall not be in this world; but I know that my Redeemer liveth,and I am not afraid to die, for I feel assured of rest beyond the grave;but there is one thing I would have. Ere I go hence I would see Julia oncemore. I have loved her perhaps too well, and for this I must die. Tell, ohtell her, how I missed her when the fever scorched my brow, and bid herhasten to me ere it be too late! But if she will not come, give her myblessing, and tell her my last prayer was for her, and that in Heaven shewill be mine."

　　With many tears Mrs. Middleton promised him that every word of his messageshould be delivered to Julia, and that she should come to him. On reachinghome her swollen eyelids attracted Fanny's attention, and excited herfear. Springing up, she exclaimed, "Mother, mother, how is Mr. Wilmot? Ishe dead?"

　　"No," answered her mother, "he is not dead, but is dying."

　　Then she repeated to Julia his request, and added, "You had better goimmediately, if you wish to see him alive, for he cannot live untilmorning. Fanny will call Ike to go with you."

　　Fanny arose to do her mother's bidding, but Julia stopped her by saying,"You needn't trouble yourself to call him, Fanny."

　　"Why not?" said Fanny, looking wonderingly in Julia's face.

　　"Because I am not going," said Julia coolly.

　　"Not going!" exclaimed Fanny.

　　"Not going!" echoed Mrs. Middleton. "Why do you say so? You are going, youmust go!"

　　"There is no must about it," answered Julia; "I do not choose to go, and Ishall not go!"

　　"Are you in earnest, Julia?" asked Mrs. Middleton.

　　"As much in earnest as I ever was in my life," replied Julia.

　　"Well, then," returned the mother in a decided tone, "you shall go; Icommand you to go, and I must be obeyed!"

　　"I'd like to see your commands enforced, Madam," said Julia, her beautifulface dark with rage. "Yes, I'd like to see anybody make me go if I did notwish to. Mr. Wilmot is nothing to me, and I would hardly go to save hislife."

　　"Oh, Julia, Julia!" said Mrs. Middleton bitterly, "has it come to this? Ican see it all now!"

　　"What all can you see so distinctly?" asked Julia scornfully.

　　"I can understand what part you have had in causing Mr. Wilmot's death,"answered Mrs. Middleton.

　　Julia turned ashy pale, and her mother continued--"Often in his ravings hespoke of a letter, a cruel letter he called it, and I heard it hinted thatit was the receipt of that letter which brought on a relapse. Now you willtell me whether you wrote that letter, and if so, what were its contents?"

　　"I wonder how I'm expected to know what letter you mean," said Julia."However, I did write to him and ask to be released from my engagement,and I had my reasons for so doing."

　　Mrs. Middleton sighed and said, "It is as I feared; on you, Julia, restsin a measure the cause of his death."

　　"Better call me a murderer at once. But I'll not stay for more abuse,"said Julia, as she left the room.

　　When she was gone Mrs. Middleton buried her face in her hands, and sentforth sob after sob from her crushed heart--crushed by the sinfulness andmocking disobedience of her first born. While she was still weeping, Fannystole softly from the apartment and went in quest of her sister. She foundher, as she had expected, in her room, and going up to her threw her armsaround her neck, and plead long and earnestly that she would go to Mr.Wilmot. But Julia's answer was ever the same, "No, I will not."

　　"And why will you not?" asked Fanny.

　　"Because," replied Julia, "Mr. Wilmot is nothing to me, and there is noreason why I should go to him, more than to any other lovesick youth whotakes a fancy to send for me. You would not feel obliged to run if BillJeffrey should have the measles and send for you."

　　"Oh, stop, stop," said Fanny, "you shall not liken Bill Jeffrey to Mr.Wilmot, who is so good, so noble. You loved him once, and for the sake ofthat love go to him now; it can do you no harm."

　　"It would seriously affect my plans for the future; and once for all, Itell you I will not go," replied Julia.

　　"Then I will," said Fanny, "and show him that I, at least, have notforgotten him."

　　This idea pleased Julia, and she answered, "I wish you would, for yourpresence will do as much good as mine."

　　Fanny hastily ran down stairs and, going to her mother, said, "Mother,Julia will not go, but I will. I should like to very much. Will you letme?"

　　Mrs. Middleton was too much engrossed in her painful thoughts to give muchheed to what Fanny said. She only knew that she wished her to consent tosomething, and she mechanically answered, "Yes, yes, go." It was thenafter sunset, and as the sky had all day been cloudy, darkness was fastgathering over the earth, but Fanny heeded it not. She bade Ike makehaste, and in a few moments her favorite pony was saddled. Ike's horse wasthen got in readiness, and they were soon galloping off in the directionof Frankfort. 'Twas a long ride of twelve miles and the darkness increasedevery moment, while a steady, drizzling rain commenced falling. StillFanny kept perseveringly on, occasionally speaking an encouraging word toIke, who pulled his old cap closely over his ears and muttered, "Lordbless young miss. Seems like 'twas her was done promised to young marster,a puttin' out this desput night to see him."

　　But Fanny kept her thoughts to herself, and while she is making her way toFrankfort, we will precede her and see what is taking place in the sickroom. The large drops of sweat which stood upon Mr. Wilmot's high, whiteforehead, showed that the hour of dissolution was at hand. His mind waswandering, but still the burden of his soul was, "Julia, Julia, oh, willshe not come?" Mr. Miller stood by him and endeavored as far as possibleto quiet him, and once, during a lucid interval, he asked, "If Julia doesnot come, what shall I tell her when I see her?"

　　Mr. Wilmot's eyes opened wide and for a moment he looked wistfully at hisfriend, and then said mournfully, "I cannot see you, Joseph, my vision hasdeparted forever, and if Julia comes, I cannot now look on her lovedfeatures, but if I die ere she arrives, ask her if she wrote that letter."

　　Just then there was a noise without, and the sound of horses' feet washeard coming up the graveled walk. Some one in the room whispered, "Itmust be Miss Middleton." The sound caught the dying man's ear and hewildly exclaimed, "Has she come? Oh! Has she come?" Fanny was now heardspeaking in the hall. We have said that her voice was strangely like hersister's, so it was no wonder that Mr. Wilmot, in his feverish delirium,mistook it. Clasping his hands together, he exclaimed, "Thank God she hascome! She has come!"

　　The excitement was too much for him and for a few moments he wasunconscious. When at last animation was restored, Fanny was hanging overhis pillow, and Fanny's tears were upon his cheek; but he thought it wasJulia, and drawing her to him, he imprinted a burning kiss upon her fairbrow, saying, "God bless you for coming, precious Julia, I knew you wouldcome; and now tell me, do you not love me as well as you always have?"

　　Fanny was bewildered, and looked imploringly at Mr. Miller, who said,"Richard, do you think it is Julia who is standing by you now?" The sickman gave a startled look and almost shrieked out, "Julia? Yes, is it notJulia? Speak quick and tell me, isn't Julia here?" Mr. Miller's eyesfilled with tears as he answered sadly, "No, Richard, Julia is not here;it is Fanny who has come." A deathly paleness passed over Mr. Wilmot'sface and a paroxysm of delirium ensued more violent than any which hadpreceded it. At last it partially passed off and he became comparativelycalm, but still persisted in thinking it was Julia whose hand he held inhis and whose breath was upon his cheek. "Heaven bless you for coming,beloved one," he would say, "I knew you would come, and still the dreadfulthought has haunted me, that you might be false, for that was a cruelletter; but you did not write it, did you?"

　　Fanny answered through her tears, "No, Mr. Wilmot, I did not write it. Itis Fanny who is speaking to you." But Mr. Wilmot understood only the firstpart of what she said, and continued, "I knew you did not, I am satisfiednow to die; and yet 'tis hard to die when I am so young and so far fromhome, but it is sweet to know that I have your love to the last. When I amdead, you will tell them at home how I loved and prayed for them. Mymother will weep bitterly for her son, who died so far away, but she doesnot love me as well as you do, does she, dearest?"

　　Just then Dr. Lacey entered the room. He seemed surprised to see Fannythere, and to hear the words of endearment addressed to her by Mr. Wilmot,but Mr. Miller softly told him of the mistake. This seemed to satisfy him,but he anxiously noted every change of Fanny's countenance. At last Mr.Wilmot said, "If you did not write that letter, who did? Was it, could ithave been your sister?"

　　"Oh, no! No!" said Fanny, "I did not write it."

　　"I know you did not, dearest," said he; "you would not do such a thing,but who did? I cannot think it was Fanny, who was always so gentle, soguileless."

　　Poor Fanny! She felt that her beloved teacher was dying with a suspicionof her innocence, and she wept most bitterly. At last a change passed overMr. Wilmot's face, a change which showed that the last trying moment hadcome. It frequently occurs with dying persons that at the last theirfaculties are for a moment fully restored. So it was with Mr. Wilmot. Abright smile broke over his face and looking up at Mr. Miller, he said, "Ithank my Heavenly Father I can see again. Now, where is Julia? I wouldlook on her face once more."

　　"I told you," said Mr. Miller, "that you were mistaken; it is not Julia."

　　"Not Julia!" said Mr. Wilmot, again becoming delirious. "Not Julia! Itcannot be true." Then drawing Fanny toward him he looked earnestly in herface. Slowly the bitter truth broke over his mind, and he said, "Yes, Iwas mistaken! But I bless you for coming; but Julia, my too dearly lovedJulia--she is not here. Oh, if I can never see her in this world, shall Isee her in heaven?"

　　They were the last words he ever uttered. Falling back on his pillow, hedrew Fanny's face to his, and with his last breath kissed her quiveringlips, and all was over. Sadly Mr. Miller closed the eyes of his departedfriend, and smoothing the covering about him, left him to the care of theservants. A few hours later, Fanny entered the room with Dr. Lacey, againto look on the face of Mr. Wilmot. The sun was just rising, and its firstred rays fell upon the marble features of the dead. There was on his facean expression so calm and heavenly that Fanny held her breath whilelooking at him, lest she should disturb his peaceful repose. At length shekissed his cold forehead, and silently left the room which contained thepale sleeper.

　　In the course of a few hours she returned home, bearing the sad tidings,which was received by her mother with a burst of tears; but Juliapreserved the same indifference which had been manifested throughout allMr. Wilmot's illness. Hard-hearted as she was, there came a time in afteryears when that proud head was bowed with grief, and those dark eyes werebedimmed by tears of penitence, which could not atone for the past; forthey were of no avail to bring back the dead from their silent restingplace.