Mrs. Hampton had not the slightest doubt but that Jess Randall was her own daughter. It seemed like a strange dream at first from which she would suddenly awaken. The girl was all that she had imagined her daughter would be when grown up. How she longed to take her in her arms and claim her as her own! But, no, she must not do that now. What would Jess and John think of her? Would they not despise her for what she had done? It was almost beyond belief that a mother would sell her child for money.
No sleep came to Mrs. Hampton's eyes during the rest of the night, and when Jess was comfortably in bed and asleep the restless woman paced up and down her own room, racked with conflicting emotions. What should she do? she asked herself over and over again. She knew now that the girl had run away from home, and should she send her back? But how could she? That she must keep her at all cost, was the thought uppermost in her mind. She was her own child, a part of her very self. The girl had been wonderfully brought to her, and was it not a sign that she should stay? But what about the girl's foster parents? Could they claim her still?
Twice during the quiet morning hours Mrs. Hampton had stolen gently into the girl's room and stood watching her as she slept. She could see her plainly by the shaded lamp on the dresser. A deep feeling of pride and love welled up in her heart as she looked upon the fair, pure face. She was certain she could detect the father's features in forehead, mouth and chin. He had been a handsome man, and this girl resembled him in a marked degree.
During the second visit as she was about to leave the room Jess suddenly opened her eyes. Seeing Mrs. Hampton, a smile illumined her face.
"I have had such a beautiful dream," she said. "I dreamed that you were my mother, and that you were rescuing me from people who were trying to steal me away from you. Wasn't it funny?"
Mrs. Hampton gave a slight start, and looked searchingly into the girl's eyes. Then she knelt by her side and gave her a fervent kiss.
"Would you like to have me for your mother?" she asked.
"Would I! Oh, how glorious it would be! I have known you only a few hours, and yet you seem more like my mother than anyone I have ever met. You are so kind and loving, just what I have often longed my own mother to be like."
"She has been good to you, though, has she not?"
"Oh, yes. In a way she has been very good, though there was something lacking which I cannot explain. I never saw her look at me as you are looking at me now. I could never confide in her, nor go to her with my little troubles. She did not wish to be bothered. She was just as affectionate to our cat and dog as she was to me. But you are altogether different. I wonder why it is? I believe you really love me, and for love my heart has been longing for years."
"Then stay right here with us, dear," Mrs. Hampton replied, at the same time pressing the girl's hand in hers. "I want you to be my daughter, and I shall love you to your heart's content." She was going to add that John would, too, but she refrained. Just what understanding there was between the two she was not sure, although she had the feeling that they loved each other dearly.
"But suppose daddy finds me here and takes me home?" Jess asked. "I feel that I should get farther away. I must not go back to my old life. I want to be free, to make my own living, and then----" She hesitated, and paused while her face crimsoned.
"I know, dear. You want to marry the one you love. Isn't that it?"
"It is, but how did you guess it?"
"Oh, I was young once, and understand such things," Mrs. Hampton smilingly told her. "But, there, we must not talk any more now. I am sorry that I disturbed you. Sleep as long as you like."
This was but one of many conversations the two had during the next day. While John was at work about the place, Mrs. Hampton and Jess talked with each other, either in the kitchen or out upon the verandah. Thus the two were drawn closer together, and understood each other better than before. Then in the evening, when the day's work was done, John joined them. He was happier than he had ever been in his life, and as he went about his various tasks he could hardly believe it possible that the one girl in the whole world who meant everything to him was but a short distance away, awaiting his return.
The more Mrs. Hampton thought about Jess, the more determined she became that nothing should take her from her. She was her daughter, and she had the right to her, no matter what she had done in the past. If it came to the worst she would claim her as her own, tell the whole sad story, and bear whatever blame might fall upon her.
She thought over this during the next day, and the more she was with the girl the more she loved her. The fact that John's love was added to hers gave her much comfort. Nothing would please her better than to see them married. Then she would have both a son and a daughter. But would the girl's foster parents allow her to marry a man who was merely an ordinary country farmer? It was hardly likely, judging by their ambition to give her to the son of a Lord.
She was thinking of this as she worked in the kitchen, busily preparing supper. John and Jess had gone for a walk down to the river, expecting to be back in a short time. It was a beautiful evening, and as Mrs. Hampton watched them as they moved down across the field her heart filled with pride. She liked to see them together, for they were so happy, and seemed to be perfectly suited to each other.
When supper was ready, she went out upon the verandah to await their return. It was good to rest after the work of the day, and look out upon the river. Everything was full of peace, and if she could only bring herself in harmony with the world of nature how good it would be. The music of the birds, and the hum of bees sounded in her ears. But her brain was too much concerned about other affairs to enjoy the bright things around her. She felt restless, and a feeling of some impending calamity oppressed her. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, for she had rested very little the last two nights.
The click of the little gate aroused her, and looking up she saw a little woman walking up the path toward the house. The visitor was shabbily dressed, and she hurried along as if fearful of being followed. She was panting heavily by the time she was upon the verandah, and seemed about ready to drop from weariness.
"Why, Hettie!" Mrs. Hampton exclaimed, as she rose to receive her. "What is the matter? You look tired out. Sit here, while I get you some refreshment."
"No, no, I mustn't sit down," the visitor replied, as she glanced apprehensively around. "Gabe might come at any minute. He's everywhere, it seems to me, and has eyes like a hawk."
"Yon just sit down and rest," Mrs. Hampton ordered, leading the frightened woman to a chair. "Your husband will not touch you here. If he does, it won't be well for him."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, so much. But you don't know Gabe as well as I do. He will kill me if he knows I've been here."
"Indeed he will do no such thing, Hettie. Sit here and calm your mind. I shall be back in a minute."
Mrs. Hampton hurried into the house, and in short time returned, carrying a small tray, containing a glass of home-made wine, and a plate of cake. This she placed on a small table near the agitated woman.
"Drink this, dear, and try some of my cake. They will refresh you."
Almost mechanically Mrs. Grimsby did as she was bidden, while Mrs. Hampton watched her curiously, wondering as to the cause of her excitement.
"Do you feel better now?" she asked, as the visitor replaced the glass upon the tray.
"Thank you, I do feel refreshed. But I must not stay long, though it is so comfortable here."
Thrusting her hand into the bosom of her dress, she brought forth a roll of bills, and laid it on Mrs. Hampton's lap.
"There, that's all I could find," she whispered. "He must have spent the rest."
"Why, what is this?" Mrs. Hampton asked in surprise as she picked up the money."
"It is yours; the money that Gabe took from you. Oh, he is a villain, if ever there was one. And to think that he should come to you, of all women, and demand payment for silence. It's a wonder to me the Almighty doesn't smite him for his wickedness."
Mrs. Hampton now understood why this poor creature had visited her, and a deep respect and pity welled up in her heart.
"How did you know about this matter?" she asked.
"Oh, Gabe was boasting about it to me. He had been drinking, and when he is that way you never know what he will say. I took the money from him when he was asleep. He didn't miss it when he left home. But when he comes back there will be a terrible time."
"Where is he now?"
"In the city, where he likes to be, instead of staying home and attending to his work. He's not only a villain, but lazy as sin."
An anxious expression appeared in Mrs. Hampton's eyes as she listened to this tale of woe. She leaned over and touched her visitor on the arm.
"You say that your husband talks a great deal when he is drunk?" she asked.
"Yes, his tongue is never still unless he's asleep. It's awful the way he raves and swears at times."
"Hettie, do you suppose he will tell what he knows about what we did at the hospital."
"No, I'm quite sure he won't say a word about that," was the slow and thoughtful reply. "Gabe's as cunning as a fox, even when he's drunk."
"He told you about it, though."
"Ah, that's different. He knows that I understand all about it. But he won't say a word to anyone else. If he does, he won't get any more money. He's cute enough for that."
"And you think he will come to me for more money?"
"I am sure of it. He'll never let up until he drains you of the last cent, that is, if you let him. And you're not the only one."
"No?" Mrs. Hampton was becoming very curious now. "Does he work his game upon others?"
"I should say he does. There's another woman from whom he has got money, more than he got from you, and that's Mrs. Randall."
"Oh! Is she the--the woman who got my baby?"
"The very one. And Gabe was to her before he came to you. That's the way he's been acting, the villain."
Mrs. Hampton was silent for a few seconds. Her heart was beating fast. Now she knew for certain that Jess Randall was her own child. The last vestige of doubt had at last been removed.
"Why didn't you tell me this before, Hettie?" she asked.
"Tell you what?"
"That you were the Hettie Rawlins who was at the hospital when I was there, and that it was Mrs. Randall who got my baby."
"Because you didn't ask me. You never mentioned that affair, so I thought you had forgotten, or didn't want to speak about it."
"No, Hettie, I had not forgotten it. But I did not know it was you who exchanged the babies. I saw you only a few times at the hospital, and when I again met you years later as Mrs. Grimsby I did not recognise you. Oh, what would I not give to undo that terrible deed I committed! I must have been crazy to sell my baby for money."
"And I a fool for what I did. But I must have been entirely out of my mind when I told Gabe anything. I kept the secret for years, and then in one unguarded moment I let a few words slip from my lips. Gabe threatened my life, and gave me no peace until I told him all. I could not help it. If you only knew what a life I lead you would understand. Can you ever forgive me?"
"There is really nothing to forgive, Hettie," was Mrs. Hampton's sad reply. "I am the one who needs forgiveness, not only from you but from the child I so heartlessly sold. Did you ever see her?"
"No, not to my knowledge. But I understand her life was not happy, and so the poor thing drowned herself to escape from her misery. You have heard the news, I suppose?"
"Yes. There has been a great deal about it in the papers. Her body has not been found, has it?"
Mrs. Hampton tried to speak as unconcernedly as possible, and if Mrs. Grimsby had not been so much taken up with her own troubles she might have wondered why any mother could speak so coolly about the death of her own daughter, even though she had not seen her since she was a baby.
"No, her body has not been found yet, though men are searching for it all the time, so I understand," the visitor explained.
"Do her parents, I mean the Randalls, feel very badly about her death, Hettie?"
"In a way I suppose they do. But I have heard that they are more angry than anything else. Their minds were so set upon the girl marrying that Lord's son that they are greatly disappointed. I admire her for what she did. I wish I had done the same myself before I married Gabe Grimsby. My life has been a living death ever since. But, there, I have talked too long. I must hurry away home. I hope Gabe will never know that I have been here. He must think that he lost that money."
"You are not going to walk home, Hettie," Mrs. Hampton told her. "John will be back shortly, and he will take you in his car. It is too long a walk."
"But I must. You don't understand. What if Gabe comes home and finds me gone?"
"Where is he now, did you say?"
"In the city, so I believe."
"Very well, then, most likely he will stay there a few hours. If he comes, it will be on the 'Oconee,' and John can get you home before that. So you must stay. Come, let me take off your hat."
After considerable persuasion, Mrs. Hampton induced her visitor to remain. Then she went into the kitchen and placed the supper upon the table. She could not understand what was keeping John and Jess so long. Anyway, she and Hettie would have their tea, and the young people could have theirs by themselves. She believed that Hettie might feel somewhat embarrassed in the presence of Jess, owing to her shabby appearance.
They had just finished their supper, and were about to rise from the table when John entered the room. At the first sight of him Mrs. Hampton gave a cry of fright and rose to her feet. His forehead was marked with blood, and the face of the girl following him was as white as death.