Clara Hazledon was the only daughter of a poor but respectable widow with whom the Charlston family had been long acquainted. Previous to their removal to Fleet street they were next door neighbors. Mr. Charlston and Clara's father had been early companions of each other. Their children had grown up together, and had been associates at the same school, and although now in unequal circumstances, still looked upon each other as very familiar friends. After the death of Mr. Hazledon, he having died when the family was young, his wife struggled hard against adversity to bring up her little ones. But five years after the death of her first husband she married another, who, unfortunately turned out to be only a worthless and degraded fellow. Clara, by her expertness at needlework, had procured a good situation in a millinery shop. Her brothers, all younger than herself, were also respectably employed.
Frederick and Clara had been passionately fond of each other when children, and as they grew older their affection became more matured; and at length the sympathies of their love were more firmly united by a marriage engagement, the consummation of which was purposed to take place as soon as circumstances would render it favorably convenient. But the basis of life's future prospects, however substantial it may be, is often undermined by some casual innovation; and there is no earthly hope, however bright its radiance may appear, but is liable to be darkened by some event that may suddenly loom up from the horizon of life. Such was the case amid the quietude of their affections. By some inadvertent impulse of human nature their chastity was sacrificed, and Frederick and Clara became parents before they had sanctified their affections upon the altar of matrimony.
The event threw a shadow into the homes of both families, and served as food for the tongues of idle gossips among their acquaintances.
Mrs. Charlston and her daughters paid a respectful visit to the house of Mrs. Hazledon—or Mrs. Collins as she was then named,—and with whom Clara was then staying. They carried with them presents of various sorts; and even Mr. Charlston himself, although chagrined at the event, evinced a charitable spirit by placing twenty guineas in the hand of Clara, as a present in behalf of his grandson.
Frederick stole his visits under the secret shades of evening, and showed every expression of sympathy and affection for Clara and the little one; at the same time promising the consummation of their union as soon as circumstances would conveniently permit. A few weeks after the birth of the child, in December of 1868, Frederick made a tour into Devonshire for the purpose of visiting an uncle residing in the town of Exeter, and also discovering some thriving village or town where he might find ready employment, with the view of eventually establishing himself in business to his own advantage. He at length selected Tiverton as his place of residence, where he procured work at favorable wages. Elated with success he immediately wrote to his parents, and also penned a lengthy epistle to Clara, describing the place and people in very flattering words, flourishing off with a few epithets expressive of his undying affection for herself and the child; and hoping that in a few months he would have the pleasure of introducing her to a comfortable home, under the happy title of Mrs. Frederick Charlston.
Winter passed slowly along, during which time letters were frequently sent and received. The first day of May at length came, but no house was apparently provided for Clara and her child. Shortly afterwards Frederick returned home, and made known the intelligence that he had given up the idea of settling in Tiverton as he had decided upon making his future home in Canada, which place had been described by an emigrant agent who had lectured several nights in the town, as one of the finest countries in the world for the workingmen of England; that millions of acres of land were there to be given away, and every actual settler received 100 acres gratis. A river one hundred times larger than all the rivers of England put together, ran the whole length of the country, 1500 miles long. There were lakes there so large that even into the smallest of them the whole island of Great Britain might be thrown, and sink beyond recovery. In fact, said he, "it possessed all the facilities and improvements of the 19th century;—equality, independence and wealth awaiting every industrious man who went thither;—it was, indeed, the workshop of the tradesman, the emporium of the trader, and above all, blessed be the fact, it was the poor man's paradise upon earth."
Frederick soon discovered that the big bubble he had blown up was likely to be blown down. His mother and sisters strongly objected to his purpose, and begged of him not to bury himself out of the world as long as he had an opportunity of living in it.
"Why, Frederick," exclaimed his father, "were you to go to Canada you would repent of it but once, and that will be as long as you live. You talk of free-lands; why, of what use would they be to you? They might be of service to those who have been long accustomed to outside labor. But for you to go into the dense forests amidst mountains of almost perpetual snow, to chop out for yourself a fortune, or even a livelihood, would be a thousand times worse than banishment to the icy deserts of Siberia. For my sake, and for the love you owe to all that are dear to you in England, I beseech of you to relinquish, at least for the present, your design. Get married at once, and settle down quietly and industriously to work, either at Tiverton or in London, and I will assist in the furnishing of a house for you and Clara."
Frederick made no satisfactory reply.
On the second evening after he had come home, Charlie Holstrom, having heard of his return, called to see him.