g was I left alone in the carriage at the door of Mrs. Van
Brandt's lodgings? Judging by my sensations, I waited half a life-time.
Judging by my watch, I waited half an hour.
When my mother returned to me, the hope which I had entertained of
a happy result from her interview with Mrs. Van Brandt was a hope
abandoned before she had opened her lips. I saw, in her face, that an
obstacle which was beyond my power of removal did indeed stand between
me and the dearest wish of my life.
"Tell me the worst," I said, as we drove away from the house, "and tell
it at once."
"I must tell it to you, George," my mother answered, sadly, "as she told
it to me. She begged me herself to do that. 'We must disappoint him,'
she said, 'but pray let it be done as gently as possible.' Beginning
in those words, she confided to me the painful story which you know
already--the story of her marriage. From that she passed to her meeting
with you at Edinburgh, and to the circumstances which have led her
to live as she is living now. This latter part of her narrative she
especially requested me to repeat to you. Do you feel composed enough to
hear it now? Or would you rather wait?"
"Let me hear it now, mother; and tell it, as nearly as you can, in her
own words."
"I will repeat what she said to me, my dear, as faithfully as I can.
After speaking of her father's death, she told me that she had only two
relatives living. 'I have a married aunt in Glasgow, and a married
aunt in London,' she said. 'When I left Edinburgh, I went to my aunt
in London. She and my father had not been on good terms together; she
considered that my father had neglected her. But his death had softened
her toward him and toward me. She received me kindly, and she got me a
situation in a shop. I kept my situation for three months, and then I
was obliged to leave it.'"
My mother paused. I thought directly of the strange postscript which
Mrs. Van Brandt had made me add to the letter that I wrote for her at
the Edinburgh inn. In that case also she had only contemplated remaining
in her employment for three months' time.
"Why was she obliged to leave her situation?" I asked.
"I put that question to her myself," replied my mother. "She made no
direct reply--she changed color, and looked confused. 'I will tell you
afterward, madam,' she said. 'Please let me go on now. My aunt was angry
with me for leaving my employment--and she was more angry still, when
I told her th
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