"My good friend," said Lady Eversleigh, "if I do not need your aid to restore my child to me, I need it to restore me to my mother. I cannot realize the truth that I have a mother, I can only feel it. I can only feel how she must have suffered by remembering my own anguish. And hers, how much more cruel, how prolonged, how hopeless! You will see to this at once, Mr. Larkspur, while I go to my child."
"Lord bless you, my lady," said Mr. Larkspur, cheerily, "there's no occasion to look very far. You have not forgotten the lady, she that lives so quiet, yet so stylish, near Richmond, and that Sir Reginald Eversleigh pays such attention to? You remember all I told you about her, and how I found out that she was Mr. Dale's aunt, and he know nothing about her?"
"Yes, yes," said Lady Eversleigh, breathlessly, "I remember."
"Well, my lady, that party near Richmond is Lady Verner, your ladyship's mother."
Lady Eversleigh was well nigh overwhelmed by the throng of feelings which pressed upon her. She, the despised outcast, the first-cousin of the man who had scorned her, a connection of the great family into which she had married, her husband's equal in rank, and in fortune! She, the woman whose beauty had been used to lure Valentine Jernam to his death, she who had almost witnessed his murder; she owed to Valentine's brother the discovery of her parentage, the defeat of her calumniators, her restoration to a high place in society, and to family ties, the destruction of Reginald Eversleigh's designs on Lady Verner's property, and—greatest, best boon of all—the recovery of her child. Her own devices, her own wilfulness had but led her into deeper danger, into more bitter sorrow; but Providence had done great things for her by the hands of this stranger, between whom and herself there existed so sinister a link.
"Can you ever forgive me, Captain Jernam," she said, "for my share in your brother's fate? Must I always be hateful in your sight? Will Mrs. Jernam ever permit me to thank her for her goodness to my child?"
For the answer, George Jernam stooped and kissed her hand, with all the natural grace inspired by natural good-feeling, and Lady Eversleigh felt that she had gained a friend where she had feared to meet a relentless foe. The little party remained long in consultation, and it was decided that nothing was to be done about Lady Verner until Lady Eversleigh had reclaimed her child. George Jernam entreated her to permit him to go to Allanbay and bring the little girl to her mother, but she would not consent. She insisted upon George's bringing his wife to see her immediately, as the preparations for departure did not admit of her calling upon Mrs. Jernam. The gentle, happy Rosamond complied willingly, and so thoroughly had the beautiful lady won the girl's heart before they were long together, that Rosamond herself proposed that George should accompany Lady Eversleigh to Allanbay. With pretty imperiousness she bore down Lady Eversleigh's grateful scruples, and the result was, that the two started that same evening, travelled as fast as post-horses could carry them, and arrived at Allanbay before even Lady Eversleigh's impatience could find the journey long. Susan Jernam had kept the child with her, and she it was who put little Gerty into her mother's arms. Rarely in her life had Lady Eversleigh lain down to rest with do tranquil a heart as that with which she slept under the humble roof of Captain Jernam's aunt.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
"CONFUSION WORSE THAN DEATH."
Sir Reginald Eversleigh had paid Victor Carrington a long visit, at the cottage at Maida Hill, on the day which had witnessed the distressing interview and angry parting between Douglas Dale and Madame Durski. They had talked a great deal, and Reginald had been struck by the strange excitement—the almost feverish exultation—in Carrington's tone and manner. He was not more openly communicative as to his plans than usual, but he expressed his expectation of triumph in a way which Eversleigh had never heard him do before.