Chapter XLII: In the Sunshine

“He laughed a laugh of merry scorn;
He turned and kissed her where she stood;
‘If you are not the heiress born,
And I,’ said he, ‘the next in blood--

“‘If you are not the heiress born,
And I,’ said he, ‘the lawful heir,
We two will wed to-morrow morn,
And you shall still be Lady Clare!’”

When Arthur Varian Dawn left his father’s room so hastily that day, it was with the firm determination to see his parents married again before the set of sun, if it could possibly be accomplished without injury to his father’s poor hold on life.

He had a brief talk with Doctor Deane, who agreed with him that the consummation of so joyful an event ought to do good to the patient, giving him new hold on life, if such a thing were possible in his precarious state.

“I do not wish to deceive you,” he said, with professional frankness. “The case is serious. I am not frightened at the scalp-wound, because it is doing nicely, and the compound fracture of the leg, below the knee, might get well in six weeks if the patient will lie in bed all that time; but there are symptoms of internal injuries that make me uneasy. If I am mistaken about that, he may pull through.”

“God grant it!” cried Arthur, fervently.

“And as you say,” continued the doctor, “whether he lives or dies, it will be a comfort to him to marry his divorced wife over again, so I will go with you to get the license and the preacher.”

So, together with Frederick Foster, they went to arrange the necessary details, and in their absence there occurred that scene by the death-bed of Rachel Dane that was to make such a change in the destinies of Arthur and Cinthia, the sorely tried lovers.

When they returned, several hours later, with the minister, Mrs. Flint was informed of what was about to occur, and begged her new-found nephew to let her have the services of the man of God first for a dying sinner.

“Poor Rachel Dane is going fast, and she is afraid to die, poor soul! We must try to hold a light for her feet, as she goes groping down into the dark valley,” she said, pitifully.

“Has her life been so wicked?” he asked, wonderingly; and the old lady answered:

“She has lived without God, and her sins are many. She made a most interesting confession awhile ago, and I would like for you to go and hear it, dear nephew, from Madame Ray, while the minister is engaged with Rachel.”

Mrs. Flint spoke with such a glad and cheerful smile, that he was quite puzzled.

He was sorry for the dying woman, but not much interested in her sins and confessions. His thoughts were hovering around Cinthia.

She had been carried unconscious from Mr. Dawn’s room, and only revived to go into such hysterical spasms that they almost feared for her life. It was thought best to quiet her by strong opiates, and she had been sleeping heavily now for hours.

Poor Cinthia! They had thought the truth would not shock her now, because she was betrothed to another; but they had been terribly mistaken. The hopeless love that had tortured her heart with secret pain threatened to end in death or madness, now that they had told her that Arthur was her brother.

With an aching heart, the young man turned his steps to her door to ask Madame Ray how the hapless girl fared.

Meanwhile, the lady had hurried from Rachel’s death-bed back to Cinthia’s room.

Kneeling down, she pressed joyful kisses on the sleeping face, so pale and woeful even in slumber, so that it was easy to guess at last the guarded secret of that young heart--the love that had never strayed from its object through long and hopeless years.

Softly, tenderly the happy mother drew aside the soft folds of lace and lines, and laid bare the beautiful white bosom of her daughter, searching until she found, just above the heart a remembered birthmark--a tiny crimson cross.

“The birthmark of the Rays! Oh, how well I remember this! Oh, my darling, my own, you are indeed my lost treasure! No wonder that I have always loved you so! It was the mother-heart that claimed you!” she cried, gladly, longing for Cinthia to awake and learn the happy truth that she was her own daughter, and not at all related to Arthur, whom she might marry when she would, only for the rash promise given to Fred Foster in a moment of reckless pride.

“Poor fellow! This will be sad news for him; but I believe that he will be generous to dear Cinthia,” she concluded; and sat down to watch the sleeper with the glad eyes of love.

It was awhile later that she heard a timid rap at the door, and found Arthur waiting outside, with a grave, sad face, though he said cheerfully:

“I have come to invite you and Cinthia to a wedding.”

“A wedding?”

In a few words he told her of the reconciliation between his father and mother, and the impending marriage.

She congratulated him warmly, and said, meaningly:

“I will be glad to be present at the ceremony, but my daughter is asleep.”

Arthur started wildly, and echoed:

“Your daughter!”

“Yes, Arthur;” and she drew him gently into the room. “Come and look at her, how pale and ill she lies, almost stricken to death by the thought that she was your sister. Oh, I have such happy news for you both, Arthur!”

“She is stirring, she is waking!” he exclaimed, eagerly; and indeed at that moment the girl opened wide her large dark eyes, with a dazed look.

Madame Ray, all joyful excitement, covered her daughter’s face with kisses, exclaiming:

“Oh, Cinthia, oh, Arthur, such joyful news! I have found out that you are my lost daughter, my darling! You know, Arthur, you always declared we resembled each other. Well, the nurse stole her from me to sell her to your father’s second wife; for she deceived her husband, the wicked woman; she never had a child of her own. That dying woman in yonder, Rachel Dane, has confessed everything. You and Cinthia are not brother and sister at all, but lovers as in past days. Kiss her, Arthur, if you wish, and be happy again.”

He bent down to obey, but drew back again, with a cry of grief:

“I can not! She is promised to my cousin.”

“He will give her back her freedom when he learns the truth, for he has a noble nature,” cried Madame Ray; and the event proved that she was right.

Fred Foster’s heart was very sad already, for Cinthia’s grief had shown him, but awhile ago, that he could never hope to win her heart; so, when he heard the wonderful news, and saw the new joy on Cinthia’s lovely face, he said, generously:

“Cinthia, I have long known of your past love affair with Arthur, and since things have fallen out so happily for you, I will restore you the troth-plight so lately given, and trust to time to heal my heart-wound. To-morrow is Christmas you know, and I shall present you as a precious gift to Arthur.”

Oh, how thankful they were for his generosity, and how glad that another love cured his heart in a year, though they were touched when they saw that she resembled Cinthia in her type--dark eyes and golden hair. It showed them plainly how deep had been his love.

Cinthia was well again almost in a minute, in her new joy, and anxious to witness the second marriage ceremony between Arthur’s parents; so presently the same group of the morning gathered in the room, and the grave minister who had just closed the eyes of Rachel Dane, after teaching her soul to find rest in God, joined the hands of Everard Dawn and his Paulina for the journey of life, while he solemnly invoked God’s blessing on them all.

Everard Dawn could not die now. Life had grown too sweet again. Events proved that the physician’s fear of internal injuries was unfounded. He began to convalesce slowly but surely under his wife’s love and care, looking forward to happy years together in the golden future.

Rachel Dane was buried at Charlottesville, and as she had no known relatives anywhere, Mrs. Flint was the chief mourner at the funeral, and she took care to have a neat stone raised above the grave.

In a few days the party at the hotel separated, Everard Dawn’s wife and son remaining with him to aid in the tedious convalescence, and Madame Ray returning to Florida with her daughter, taking the ailing Mrs. Flint as their guest.

“I am real down sorry to lose you as a niece, Cinthy,” sighed the old lady, who was greatly softened now by the hurrying events.

“Do not grieve over that, dear aunt, for I will restore the kinship in the spring, and in the meantime you have gained me as a nephew!” laughed Arthur, who was handsome as a picture in his new happiness.

“That is true; and I am real down proud of my new nephew, and his mother, too!” cried the old lady.

Arthur’s mother had taken the first opportunity to make her peace with Cinthia.

“Dearest, I was cruel to you once, but I am a changed woman now, and I love you dearly since I know that you never belonged to that woman I hated so. Can you forgive me--if not for my own sake, because you will be Arthur’s wife!”

Cinthia, understanding everything now, gladly accorded forgiveness and sympathy that soon ripened into love.

In the spring, when Mr. Dawn was well and strong again, his son was married to Cinthia at her mother’s home--Lodge Delight. It was a grand wedding, and Cinthia the fairest bride ever seen. They remained with Madame Ray until Love’s Retreat was rebuilt, then made their home with his parents, while Mrs. Flint remained ever afterward with Cinthia’s mother, who would not permit her return to Virginia.

“We are two lonely old widows. Let us be company for each other,” she said, with pensive cheerfulness.

One thing that transpired touched Cinthia very much, and showed her the tenderness of Arthur’s love.

Madame Ray said to Mr. Dawn, while he still lay on his bed of suffering:

“That fortune Cinthia has been enjoying as your daughter, Mr. Dawn, must be restored to you now, as she never had any legal right to it.”

Mr. Dawn looked embarrassed for a moment, then frankly explained:

“On the day that Arthur found out that Cinthia was supposedly his sister, he insisted on making over to her use enough of his private fortune to insure her the luxuries of life in lieu of happiness.”

“And it will now form part of her marriage settlement,” added Arthur.

Tears sprung to Cinthia’s eyes as she murmured:

“Oh, how noble and generous you have been all these years while I thought you so weak and cowardly, and tried in vain to hate you! But all the while----”

Arthur drew her to his heart, and finished the sentence for her, very low and tenderly:

--“All the while--I loved you better than you knew.”

THE END.

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30--A Haunted Life, Caroline Hart.
31--Garnetta, the Silver King’s Daughter, L. J. Libbey.
32--A Romance of Two Worlds, Marie Corelli.
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36--A Hidden Terror, Caroline Hart.
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38--Claribel’s Love Story, Charlotte M. Braeme.
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42--The Vengeance of Love, Caroline Hart.
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44--A Bitter Reckoning, Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
45--Kathleen’s Diamonds, Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
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47--Lancaster’s Choice, Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
48--The Madness of Love, Caroline Hart.
49--Little Sweetheart, Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
50--A Working Girl’s Honor, Caroline Hart.
51--The Mystery of Colde Fell, Charlotte M. Braeme.
52--The Rival Heiresses, Caroline Hart.
53--Little Nobody, Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
54--Her Husband’s Ghost, Mary E. Bryan.
55--Sold for Gold, Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
56--Her Husband’s Secret, Lucy Randall Comfort.
57--A Passionate Love, Barbara Howard.
58--From Want to Wealth, Caroline Hart.
59--Loved You Better Than You Knew, Mrs. A. Miller.
60--Irene’s Vow, Charlotte M. Braeme.
61--She Loved Not Wisely, Caroline Hart.
62--Molly’s Treachery, Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
63--Was It Wrong? Barbara Howard.
64--The Midnight Marriage, Mrs. Sumner Hayden.
65--Ailsa, Wenona Gilman.
66--Her Dark Inheritance, Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
67--Viola’s Vanity, Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller.
68--The Ghost of the Hurricane Hills, Mary E. Bryan.
69--A Woman Wronged, Caroline Hart.
70--Was She His Lawful Wife? Barbara Howard.
71--Val, the Tomboy, Wenona Gilman.
72--The Richmond Secret, Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
73--Edna’s Vow, Charlotte M. Stanley.
74--Hearts of Fire, Caroline Hart.
75--St. Elmo, Augusta J. Evans.
76--Nobody’s Wife, Caroline Hart.
77--Ishmael, Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth.
78--Self-Raised, Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth.
79--Pretty Little Rosebud, Barbara Howard.
80--Inez, Augusta J. Evans.
81--The Girl Wife, Mrs. Sumner Hayden.
82--Dora Thorne, Charlotte M. Braeme.
83--Followed by Fate, Lucy Randall Comfort.
84--India, or the Pearl of Pearl River, Southworth.
85--Mad Kingsley’s Heir, Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
86--The Missing Bride, Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth.
87--Wicked Sir Dare, Charles Garvice.
88--Daintie’s Cruel Rivals, Mrs. Alex. McV. Miller.
89--Lillian’s Vow, Caroline Hart.
90--Miss Estcourt, Charles Garvice.
91--Beulah, Augusta J. Evans.
92--Daphane’s Fate, Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
93--Wormwood, Marie Corelli.
94--Nellie, Charles Garvice.
95--His Legal Wife, Mary E. Bryan.
96--Macaria, Augusta J. Evans.
97--Lost and Found, Charlotte M. Stanley.
98--The Curse of Clifton, Mrs. Southworth.
99--That Strange Girl, Charles Garvice.
100--The Lovers at Storm Castle, Mrs. M. A. Collins.
101--Margerie’s Mistake, Lucy Randall Comfort.
102--The Curse of Pocahontas, Wenona Gilman.
103--My Love Kitty, Charles Garvice.
104--His Fairy Queen, Elizabeth Stiles.
105--From Worse than Death, Caroline Hart.
106--Audrey Fane’s Love, Mrs. E. Burke Collins.
107--Thorns and Orange Blossoms, Charlotte Braeme.
108--Ethel Dreeme, Frank Corey.
109--Three Girls, Mary E. Bryan.
110--A Strange Marriage, Caroline Hart.
111--Violet, Charles Garvice.
112--The Ghost of the Power, Mrs. Sumner Hayden.
113--Baptized with a Curse, Edith Stewart Drewry.
114--A Tragic Blunder, Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron.
115--The Secret of Her Life, Edward Jenkins.
116--My Guardian, Ada Cambridge.
117--A Last Love, Georges Ohnet.
118--His Angel, Henry Herman.
119--Pretty Miss Bellew, Theo. Gift.
120--Blind Love, Wilkie Collins.
121--A Life’s Mistake, Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron.
122--Won By Waiting, Edna Lyall.
123--Passion’s Slave, King.
124--Under Currents, Duchess.
125--False Vow, Braeme.
126--The Belle of Lynne, Braeme.
127--Lord Lynne’s Choice, Braeme.
128--Blossom and Fruit, Braeme.
129--Weaker Than a Woman, Braeme.
130--Tempest and Sunshine, Mary J. Holmes.
131--Lady Muriel’s Secret, Braeme.
132--A Mad Love, Braeme.

The Hart Series books are for sale everywhere, or they will be sent by mail, postage paid, for 30 cents a copy, by the publisher; 4 copies for $1.00. Postage stamps taken the same as money.

THE ARTHUR WESTBROOK COMPANY, Cleveland, Ohio, U. S. A.

* * * * *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Punctuation has been made consistent.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

The following changes were made:

p. 31: his changed to her (over her niece’s)

p. 48: illegible word assumed to be called (she called, hoarsely:)

p. 53: illegible word assumed to be Arthur (dear Arthur, I)

p. 62: illegible word assumed to be the (find the nearest)

p. 87: illegible word assumed to be jilts (me--jilts me)

p. 91: Miss Cinthia changed to Mrs. Flint (Then Mrs. Flint and)

p. 100: illegible word assumed to be love (rock of love.)

p. 136: illegible word assumed to be on (live on till)

p. 150: illegible word assumed to be cried (hour!” cried Cinthia,)

p. 180: your changed to her (for her father)

p. 185: illegible word assumed to be rested (they rested again)