Wits' End

by Amy Ella Blanchard

"It has mattered for years. Why did you stay away from Lillian and the child after all had been made right?"

"You forget that in the eyes of the world I was still responsible for the entire amount. Besides, there was another reason. I should have stayed away, anyhow, for Lillian's sake. I didn't know about the child. I heard from your father only in answer to those letters, that was just before I left for Mexico. His chief concern was the matter of the money. He did not mention Lillian. I asked him not to. I couldn't bear it, so I never knew that my little girl was born. After I had made restitution it seemed to me that there was nothing left for me to do but to cut loose from everything that should remind me of the old days. I would burn my ships behind me. I wonder why your father kept my letters, Camilla."

Miss Elliott gave a quick sob. "They were his punishment, Lew. He never recovered from the shock of your supposed death. I think he kept the letters as a sort of penance, to remind him of what you had done for him, and I think he meant us to discover them. He had not the courage, after you had disappeared absolutely, to tell the truth, and to lose the reputation he had always gloried in, but at the last he tried, I am convinced now. He died a poor man for he paid back all he owed—and we thought it was for you—oh, Lew!"

"Never mind. I am glad of what I did for him, though I am afraid he suffered more than I, after all."

"Poor father, poor father! Yes, I am sure he did. You knew my mother, Lew, and how dependent a nature hers was. She knew nothing of business matters and could scarcely be induced to look at one of father's papers after his death. That is why your letters lay so long unknown."

"It was all for the best—all—all, for Lillian did not love me. She cared for some one else, as you know, but your father liked me. He admired my fearless ventures in which I was for awhile successful, as he was, too. He had befriended my father when they were lads together, and my father was in danger of going wrong, so I felt I could repay by shielding my father's friend and mine. When discovery was sure to come, as we thought, I said to Mr. Elliott, 'You're not to appear in this. Why should we both suffer? It will kill your wife, and bring the greatest trouble to mine.' You know how they both adored him, Camilla, how they thought him the very pattern of a man. You know how he was honored and looked up to by everyone. Why implicate him when his would be the greater fall? As for me, Lillian, who had married me for money, would not tolerate me when I should be stripped of both money and character. She had already told me that she never loved me. Was it not better that I, who had lost all I cared for, should spare the others? 'The greatest good to the greatest number,' that was how it was. There might be a hue and cry for a little while, but the bank would not allow its depositors to suffer, and I could slip out of sight and be forgotten, while Lillian, in time, would perhaps marry some one who could make her happy, the man whom she really cared for. But she did not marry again?"

"No. Her early lover married just after Gwen was born, and I do not think she cared then, for she had her baby to comfort her. She was all in all to Lillian during the six years she lived. Oh Lew, it was hard for you, hard all around."

"Yes, it was hard—then—but it is all over now, and at the last I have had a great joy, and at the end there is peace. Poor little light-hearted Lillian, she had her sorrows, too. I felt so sure she would marry again, but I could not bear to have my belief made a certainty, and it was only when Gwen told me of her mother that I knew that the thing I dreaded had not happened after all. It must have been hard for you, Camilla, to have them all taken within so few years."

"Yes, though I had been so much from home that Lillian and I were almost strangers. Gwen has been a great comfort and happiness to me. She is much like you, Lew, in spirit, though more like her mother in appearance."

"God was good to let me have my little girl for a short time, and I thank you, Camilla, for all you have done for her. She must never know. There would have to be too many explanations, and it is better she should believe as she does, that she lost her father long ago. It would be a new grief to her to have the story told her now. You will not let her know that her father left a smirched character behind when he left his home."