The curse of gold

My husband:—Once again I write to you from the depths of a weary heart, without hope, without a belief that you will ever see my letter, but I must speak to you before I die! for it seems to me impossible to live and face that woman. I wrote to you again and again, Louis. I told you of the terrible strait to which I was driven. I appealed to you from the depths of my humiliation. I besought you to give back my secret and send the proofs of our marriage before it was too late—before disgrace fell upon me, and the shelter of a respectable roof was taken from over my head.

“You did not answer. Day after day I waited, day after day I stole like a thief to the post-office, and read over, name by name, the list of advertised letters, hoping against convictions that yours had been overlooked in the delivery. None came. Oh! if you could think how desolate I grew; all alone, so young, so full of dark foreboding—I feared the proud woman to whose guardianship my brother had left me. Her black eyes seemed to follow me everywhere. I trembled at the sound of her footsteps. In my dreams, her presence overshadowed me till my brain ached with the oppression.

“One night she came to me in my chamber. I was in bed weeping, but she did not seem to hear it. The light was dim, and my face turned to the wall. Possibly she did not know how wretched I was.

“‘You seem sad and depressed,’ she said; ‘is it because you have no companion in the house? or are you pining over the absence of your brother and friend?’

“I tried my best to answer steadily, but the tears would come; for her manner was strangely kind, and, for the first time in my life, I longed to throw my arms around her neck and ask her to pity me.

“I am not quite well,’ I said; ‘the study is hard, and I cannot bear so much as some girls.’

“‘How would you like to go into the country a while?’ she asked.

“‘To the country,—some farm-house where I might have a chance to be alone. Oh, if I could! If I could!’—

“‘Not quite so rural as that,’ she said, ‘but if you like it, we will go to Saratoga.’

“My heart sunk within me. Saratoga! and with her! I answered faintly, that I would much rather stay at home and rest. At first she opposed this, but I pleaded so hard for quiet and solitude, that she at last consented and left me at home, only extracting a promise that I should receive no company, nor go out alone. The next morning, she started on her journey. I watched her from the window as she got into the carriage. It was a relief to see her go, but my heart was heavy as death. In her way she had been kind to me and I was deceiving her.

“She is gone; and the great solitary house is mine to roam in as I please. I go down to the arbor twenty times a day. The clematis vine is white with blossoms, as it was the day you told me how dear I would ever be to you. I sit down under the shadows that twinkle around me with every stir of the leaves, and think of you, your looks, your words, the expression of your face when we parted, till my heart swells with the joy and pain of memories that are my glory, and yet kill me. Oh, if you were only here—if I could but see you a single moment! But God help me, an ocean divides us! I may never see you again. Sometimes I think it will be so, and that makes the thought of death terrible.

“The loneliness here would be pleasant, but for the dread of what is to come. I think of her return with terror. If I hear a carriage in the street, my heart stands motionless till it has passed the house. I dare not meet her again. What can I do? Where shall I go? Louis, Louis, my heart will break if I do not hear from you....

“A friend of Mrs. Judson’s called here this morning; she says that my guardian may come back any day. She wishes the house to be in readiness. I must go; but where? Father of mercies, tell me where!

“When the lady was gone, I went up to my room, and throwing myself on the bed, almost prayed to die. It was wicked, I know; but I am afraid! Oh, if you were only here, my husband—if you were only here! I have been lying still as death, thinking and planning until thought tortured me. A thousand wild prospects of concealment till you came, presented themselves; but they were all vague and impracticable. About midnight I arose softly, and finding a lamp, searched through my drawers for money and trinkets. A few dollars, and a more costly supply of jewelry than most girls of my age are allowed to possess, was all that I could depend upon. These, with a few valuable laces, I tied up and locked in my wardrobe; for I must go—I must go! Once more I will steal to the post-office. God may have mercy upon me and send the letter I have asked for so often—oh, so often. I have been—I have been—nothing there. Over and over again I read the printed list through my blinding tears. My name was not there. Nothing for me—nothing for me! Then my last hope went out, and I wandered off anywhere in search of a hiding-place, where death might find me undisgraced. In a narrow, uncleanly street, I saw a sign on which ‘Boarding’ was written in great yellow letters. I knocked timidly at the door, shuddering at the sound my own hands made. I will not describe the interior of this house. It would make you wretched; for you have not intended to be cruel.

“The woman who received me was kind enough, but uncouth and slatternly. She asked no questions, and I was too tired and wretched for any question about her prices. They seemed reasonable for a small chamber in the back of the house, with decent food,—a garret almost, and very gloomy. So much the better; it was the more removed from notice.

“The next day I told the servants that I had received a letter from Mrs. Judson and must go away at once. I took the precaution to send for a carriage, and in all things leave the house as I should have done had Mrs. Judson really expected me.

“I let the man drive me to a railroad depot, then discharged him and took another carriage which left me and my trunk at the house which was to be my home. Just at night I stole away to this desolate shelter, and here, Louis, I remain utterly alone, never going out, even for a breath of air....

“At last, everything is gone, money, trinkets, clothing, piece by piece. I have given them to the woman who supplied me with food and shelter, and now my destitution is complete.