Read CHAPTER LXXIV - GENERAL HARRINGTON’S SECRET of Mabel's Mistake , free online book, by Ann S. Stephens, on ReadCentral.com.

Harrington and Ralph stood opposite Zillah’s house, pausing for a moment’s conversation before they went in.

“No,” said Ralph, earnestly, “do not ask it; I will not give even this evidence of a doubt which I never can feel again. Go yourself, and see her alone. Learn, if possible, by what evil influence she has been wiled from her home. If she has fled to escape the importunity of my love, tell her to fear it no more; I will leave the country do anything rather than stand in the way of her return to my mother.”

Harrington wrung the hand which Ralph had in his earnestness extended.

“Wait at the hotel,” he said; “in an hour expect me with news. I will not leave the poor child till her secret is mine. Be hopeful, Ralph, for I tell you Lina is an honest, good girl, and a little time will make it all clear.”

“God grant that we do not deceive ourselves!” said Ralph, hopefully. “I will wait for you, but it will be a terrible hour, James.”

“But such hours go by like the rest,” answered Harrington, with a grave smile; “you will learn this in time.”

With these words, James Harrington crossed the street, and entered Zillah’s house.

Ralph watched him till the door closed, and then walked slowly back to the hotel.

Harrington was right such hours do go by like the rest; those that are tear-laden toil on a little slower than such as are bright with smiles, but the eternity which crowds close upon them receives both alike, and they float away into the past, mistily together.

In less than the given time, James Harrington came back, but his step was heavy as he mounted the stairs, and a look of haggard trouble hung upon his brow. Ralph felt his breath come painfully; he dared not speak, for never in his life had he felt such awe of the man before him. At length he drew close to James, and whispered:

“One word, only one: is she lost?”

“Ralph” said Harrington, drawing a hand across his forehead once or twice, as if to sweep away some pain that ached there, “I am at a loss what to say!”

Ralph turned white and drew back.

“No, no, it is not as you think. The sweet girl is blameless as the angels, but she is bound by promises and obligations that even I cannot feel free to fling aside: yet this secrecy can only end in pain. It is my duty, at any risk, to free her name from reproach. Ralph, I have something very distressing to tell you, and it must be told.”

“If Lina is innocent, if she loves me, all else is nothing!” answered Ralph, with enthusiasm. “Oh, James, you have made a man of me once more!”

“This hopefulness pains me, Ralph.”

“How? Did you not charge me to keep hopeful? did you not tell me that Lina was blameless? While I can respect, love nay, adore her what else has the power to wound me?”

James Harrington shrank back, and his face flushed.

“Hush! hush! these words are too ardent they wound, they repulse me! If you guessed all that I know, your own heart would recoil from them.”

“Guessed all that you know! well, speak out. It must be something terrible, indeed, if it prevents me loving her, after what you have already said.”

James Harrington hesitated; looked wistfully at the eager face turned full of inquiry to his, and at last said, in a low, almost solemn voice:

“Ralph, Lina is your father’s daughter.”

“My father’s daughter?” cried Ralph, aghast; “my father’s daughter!”

“He told her so with his own lips, binding her by a promise not to reveal the secret to us. Poor thing, it was too weighty for her strength; she grew wild under it and fled to the woman you saw, who claims to be her mother.”

“Claims to be her mother! That woman it is false!”

“I fear not, Ralph! I myself recognized that woman as a beautiful slave whom your father owned when my own poor mother died. She has changed but”

“A slave Lina, the child of a slave? I tell you it is false; the dews of heaven are not more pure than the blood that fills those blue veins; there is some fraud here!” cried Ralph, impetuously.

“I fear not. She is certain of it; this cruel conviction is killing her. But for her feeble state, I never could have won her secret. Poor child, poor child, what can be done for her?”

Ralph walked the room impetuously, beating the air with his hand: all at once he stopped the cloud upon his brow cleared away his lips parted almost with a cry.

“I tell you, brother James, this is a fraud, to which Lina’s face alone is enough to give the lie! Ask Ben Benson only ask Ben, he is truthful as the sun; he has known her from the cradle. Ben Benson told me with his own lips, that Lina’s mother was dead!”

James Harrington became excited; his eye kindled.

“Did Ben Benson tell you this?”

“He did, indeed; but why waste time in guessing? Let us go home; the old fellow will help us to put this right.”

James hesitated, and shrunk within himself; the look of pain came back to his face, and he answered with some constraint, that the steamer sailed for Europe on the morrow, and his passage was already taken.

Ralph looked astonished and distressed.

“Would you leave us now?” he said, reproachfully.

James remained thoughtful a moment, and then answered with a touch of mournfulness:

“No, I will remain for a little time. So long as I am wanted, it must be so.”

“Then, let us go home at once.”

“Yes, it is a duty; I will return with you,” said Harrington, with gentle concession; and, spite of himself, a gleam of pleasure broke into his eyes.

“Come, then, come!” cried Ralph, impetuously. “I cannot breathe till old Ben has spoken. Come!”

“Have patience, Ralph; let us talk this matter over more quietly. We are not at liberty to tell this painful secret to your mother, it would shock her too much; besides, I pledged my honor to the poor child that it should not be done. Let me find General Harrington, and learn the whole truth from him. If Lina proves to be your sister do not turn so pale, my dear boy if she proves to be this, you must go with me to Europe, and learn to regard her with that gentle affection which becomes these new relations.”

“I tell you, Lina is not my sister; every feeling of my soul rises up to contradict it!” cried the youth, impetuously. “General Harrington will not say it.”

“Is the General at home now?” inquired Harrington, with a gentle wave of the hand.

“No; he seldom is, of late. He almost lives at the club-house.”

“I will seek him there,” said Harrington; “come with me.”

“Not on this errand, James; I could not see my father, and maintain that self-control which is due from a son to his parent. His sins have fallen too heavily on me for that.”

“You are right, perhaps,” answered James, thoughtfully. “It will be a painful interview; but for her sake I will undertake it, though I had thought all subjects of this kind were at an end between General Harrington and myself.”

Ralph wrung the hand extended to him, and the two went out, each taking his own way.