A subsequent letter informed her of the convalescence of her son.
A superficial peace, without confidence, ensued between herself and husband. They went to Richmond, where Marguerite, filled with grief, remorse, and terror, so distractedly overacted her part as queen of fashion, that she brought upon herself, from wondering friends, the suspicion of partial insanity.
It was at this time that she received a third letter, advising her of the nearly fatal relapse of her child.
Knowing from past experience how vain it would be to hope for Philip Helmstedt’s consent to her unexpected absence, she secretly departed, to spend a few weeks with her suffering child. She reached the hamlet, nursed her boy through his illness, and then placed him to be reared and educated in the family of the poor village pastor, to whom, for his services as tutor, she offered a liberal salary.
The Rev. John Braunton was a man past middle age, of acute intellect, conscientious principles, and benevolent disposition. From his keen perceptive faculties it was impossible to hide the fact that the mysterious lady, who took such deep and painful interest in this child, was other than the boy’s mother.
Having arranged a system of correspondence with the clergyman, and paid a half year’s salary in advance, Marguerite Helmstedt departed for her Virginia home, full of intense anxiety as to the reception she would meet from her husband. We know what that reception was. Philip Helmstedt must have sacrificed her life to his jealous rage but that she was destined to be the mother of his child. He kept his wife from her son for fifteen years.
In the meantime Mr. Braunton, who regularly received his salary, wondered that he received no more visits from the guardian or mother of his pupil. As the years passed he expostulated by letter. Marguerite wept, but could not go.
Some time after this, Braunton suddenly appeared before her on the island to inform her that her boy, grown restive in his rustic residence, had run away from home. Nothing could be discovered in relation to the missing youth, and from this time Marguerite Helmstedt’s health rapidly declined.
Once more Marguerite saw her son. In the spring of 1814 he suddenly appeared before her in the uniform of a British soldier—claimed her assistance, and adjured her to reveal to him his birth and parentage. His miserable mother evaded his question, besought him to return to the protection of Mr. Braunton, and, promising to write, or to see him again, dismissed him.
That visit was the deathblow from which Marguerite never recovered. She died, and, dying, bequeathed to her daughter the legacy of this secret.