The weeks rolled by as if they were years, and at the expiration of that time FitzMarshall received letters from home, ordering him to obtain leave of absence and to take the next steamer for England. With a heavy heart he disclosed the contents to Mr. Malcolm, who of course expected something of the kind, and told him that he must now discontinue all communication with his daughter. The order came, unfortunately, too late, as the young couple had already met frequently clandestinely and forestalled their expected honey-moon.
However, to England FitzMarshall must go or be disinherited, so, bidding his inamorata to cheer up, that he would soon be back to claim her as his lawful wife, he set sail, and left the poor girl, soon to become a mother alone with her austere father and unsympathetic mother. Weeks went by without a word from him for whom the girl would have laid down her life, and her letters, written we may say with her tears, were returned to her unopened. The truth flashed quickly on the young girl—she was deserted! The aristocratic friends of the young man would never allow him to see her more, and he was weak enough to be put in pupilage. Quickly making up her mind how to act, with indomitable courage she gathered up what little trinkets and jewellery she possessed, she converted them into money which yielded her nearly two hundred dollars (for she had received valuable presents from her lover and some money), and, one evening slipping out quietly, she took the train for Toronto, proceeding from thence to Detroit, where she established herself as the widow of an English officer, prepared to receive pupils in languages and music.
But she was prepared for more than this. Her heart had become thoroughly steeled by the harsh treatment which she considered she had received from her father and others, so she laid herself out to make what capital she could, not only out of her accomplishments but also of her beauty, and with such success that she obtained an elegant establishment at the hands of a wealthy Michigan shipping merchant, the public being led to believe that she had become possessed of an estate in trust for her child (a boy) who was just then born. For several years she lived in this way, always moving along quietly and respectably, when the old gentleman died, leaving her but a few hundred dollars capital, for he had neglected to provide for this contingency, and she, with less forethought than one would imagine, had never considered such a possibility. Mrs. McClintock, as she now called herself, began to think of returning to her old business as a teacher, but there was little necessity, for an old gentleman who had made a fortune as a distiller, an acquaintance of the deceased merchant, soon made excuse for calling upon her, and made undoubted advances to her. It may be that he knew something of his friend’s arrangements, or that he only suspected them; however, the widow managed matters so adroitly that he imagined he must have been mistaken, and that the reports he had heard were not true. The house was elegantly and tastefully furnished, the lady was modestly, yet richly attired, the little boy and his nurse lending an air of respectability to the whole establishment only to be out-done by the conversation and demeanor of the lady herself, who was not only the peer, but the superior of any lady among the large circle of the old gentleman’s acquaintances. He called about some lessons for his eldest daughter, but was informed that Mrs. McClintock no longer gave lessons; he then suggested that she might recommend a teacher of French, and endeavored to prolong the interview, but the lady sedately answered all his queries with a sad and pensive expression far removed from what he had expected, and rising politely, rang the bell for her servant to show him out.
After a little time, however, the old man returned to the charge. He had bought the terrace in which Mrs. McClintock lived, and called to know what he could do, in the way of repairs, etc. He pressed his suit in various ways, but the widow pretended not to see it at all till she had the old man down on his knees; then she played with him most adroitly, explaining that her lonely position left her open to the tongue of rumor, and that she could not allow him to call so frequently. She played her cards so well that the old man firmly believed she was a modest and retiring widow, and did not the law forbid him, he would have married her. As it was, she led him to hand her the deed of the house she lived in, and to settle a large amount on both herself and his child (a beautiful girl), who was born about a year after his first visit to her house in his capacity of landlord.
Notwithstanding all her precautions Mrs. McClintock was the subject of much gossip in the neighborhood in which she resided, and many were the guesses (many of them wide of the mark) which were made about her past history. But they could only talk vaguely and shrug their shoulders at the mention of the lady’s name; for she lived very circumspectly, had a pew in St. Paul’s Church, and stood well with the minister and leading church people; her children too were models of neatness and propriety, and though as unlike as children having one common parent could well be (Jessie being dark and petite with piercing brown eyes, while Charlie was tall and exceedingly fair), yet they had both the enviable reputation of being the best bred and best behaved children on Jefferson Avenue.
As the children grew up they were sent to school, and both, though of different temperament, were distinguished for their superior ability. Jessie was quick at anything requiring an amount of ready talent and acute comprehension, such as Arithmetic, Geometry, and Modern Languages, but Charlie excelled in Classics and what are generally considered the heavier sciences, and was particularly talented as regards music. He would sit for hours playing the exquisite Lieder Ohne worte of Mendelssohn, while Jessie would shrug her shoulders if asked to play, and call on her brother, saying she could not bear “that nasty practising.” In spite, however, of her neglect of this accomplishment (for which she had great natural talent), Jessie McClintock was in great demand in society, and notwithstanding the equivocal position held by her mother (for although not openly expressed there was a general feeling that all was not right with that lady), the young people were asked everywhere, and their mother kept them carefully in the very best circles, for which their natural talents and excellent education eminently fitted them.
The children, who had seen a gentleman supposed to be their father come at intervals and then disappear, naturally were inquisitive, and from an early age were taught that their father was a captain on an Atlantic Steamer, and of course was frequently away from home. As the children grew up the story told by them concerning that gentleman did not coincide with that of the mother, who had always pretended that her husband was dead, so it was thought advisable for her to remove to Montreal (her parents having long since died), and assume the rôle of a grass widow whose husband seldom got off his ship, and then but for a short time, coming generally at night and remaining indoors during his brief stay. Mrs. McClintock bought a house in University street, and rarely went out; her children, however, went to the best schools, and, having made acquaintances, soon began to go out in the best society as they had done in Detroit. Charlie soon became entered as a Law Student in the McGill University, and Jessie had a visiting governess engaged to finish her, a resident young lady, for obvious reasons, being considered out of place. Jessie grew up a beautiful young lady, and was the acknowledged belle in many a drawing room; Charlie went little into society, being engaged in prosecuting his studies in the University, applying himself so assiduously that in a few years he graduated with honors, carrying off a gold medal.
The people who lived opposite Mrs. McClintock on University street were curious to know all about that lady’s proceedings, and set a watch on all her movements. They discovered that at times a carriage was driven hastily up to the door, generally late at night, from which an elderly gentleman alighted and entered the house; but, although on the alert, they were never able to make out his features or even his general appearance, so quickly was the door of the house opened and closed behind him. Yet even this discovery was hailed with delight by the gossips; and as after each visit Jessie appeared with a new watch, locket, brooch, or other trinket (sent, she said, from England by her father), the tongue of evil report wagged freely, and was not at all times strictly confined to the truth.
Mrs. McClintock was much annoyed when she learnt (from a sympathizing friend) of the reports which her neighbors were circulating concerning her; and, as she knew their eyes were constantly upon her house, she managed to invite the clergyman and his wife, with a few others whom she had met in church circles, to dinner, and manifested such an interest in the sewing society that the principal ladies of the congregation called on her in succession; and although they never got beyond an interchange of formal visits, yet it served to puzzle the gossips in the streets, and one or two who had “forgotten” to call on Mrs. McClintock when she first came to the locality paid her a formal visit; their shaky position in society being secured by the fact that all the best people called there, including the Bishop and clergy, and so of course there could be nothing wrong. For all this plausible reasoning they inwardly believed that there was “something wrong,” and many of those who called did so mainly under the apprehension that they would discover something, or read in the countenance of their notorious neighbor something that would give a clue to her past or present career.
But those who called from curiosity were sadly disappointed. The house was neat and well-ordered, yet not extravagantly furnished; those who met the children were astonished at their appearance and apparent good breeding, while the hostess received them with the cool courtesy of an English gentlewoman. The callers went away puzzled more completely than ever, and to add to their mortification the lady did not return one of their calls, shewing thereby that she did not care for their acquaintance. Thus their imaginary condescension was the means of their being snubbed by one whom they considered scarcely fit to be allowed to inhabit the same street.