"'Alas, I know not. I have no one to counsel me, no one to whom I can turn for assistance or go for shelter. Even my Heavenly Father hideth his face from me.'
"'Oh, Mrs. St. James!'
"'Call me not by that accursed name. Call me Rosalie. It was a dying mother's gift, and they cannot rob me of that.'
"'Miss Rosalie, I will never quit you. There is nobody in the world I love half as well, and if you will let me stay with you, I will wait on you, and take care of the baby all the days of my life.'
"Then she told me how she came from New England to live with a brother, who had since died of consumption, and how she was going back, because she did not like to live in a great city, when the doctor got her to come to nurse me in sickness, and how she had learned to love me so well she could not bear the thoughts of going away from me. She told me, too, how quiet and happy people could live in that part of the country; how they could get along upon almost nothing at all, and be just as private as they pleased, and nobody would pester them or make them afraid.
"She knew exactly how she came to the city, and we could go the same way, only we would wind about a little and not go to the place where she used to live, so that folks need ask no questions or know any thing about us.
"With a childlike dependence, as implicit as your own, and as instinctive, I threw myself on Peggy's strong heart and great common sense. With equal judgment and energy, she arranged every thing for our departure. She had the resolution and fortitude of a man, with the tenderness and fidelity of a woman. I submitted myself entirely to her guidance, saying, 'It was well.' But when I was alone, I clasped you in agony to my bosom, and prostrating myself before the footstool of Jehovah, I prayed for a bolt to strike us, mother and child together, that we might be spared the bitter cup of humiliation and woe. One moment I dared to think of mingling our life blood together in the grave of the suicide; the next, with streaming eyes, I implored forgiveness for the impious thought.
"It is needless to dwell minutely on the circumstances of our departure. We left that beautiful mansion, once the abode of love and happiness, now a dungeon house of despair;—we came to this lone, obscure spot, where I resumed my father's name, and gave it to you. At first, curiosity sought out the melancholy stranger, but Peggy's incommunicativeness and sound judgment baffled its scrutiny. In a little while, we were suffered to remain in the seclusion we desired. Here you have passed from infancy to childhood, from childhood to adolescence, unconscious that a cloud deeper than poverty and obscurity rests upon your youth. I could not bear that my innocent child should blush for a father's villany. I could not bear that her holy confidence in human goodness and truth should be shattered and destroyed. But the day of revelation must come. From the grave, whither I am hastening, my voice shall speak; for the time may come, when a knowledge of your parentage will be indispensable, and concealment be considered a crime.
"Should you hereafter win the love of an honorable and noble heart, (for such are sometimes found,) every honorable and noble feeling will prompt you to candor and truth, with regard to your personal relations. I need not tell you this.
"And now, my darling child, I leave you one solemn dying charge. Should it ever be your lot to meet that guilty, erring father, whose care you have never known, whose name you have never borne, let no vindictive memories rise against him.