Papa's own girl: A novel

by Marie Stevens Howland

“Clara Forest.”

Every word of this letter cut like a two-edged sword, and at the moment, Dr. Delano felt that he could give his life to recall his acts for the last few months. He had never dreamed that there was that in Clara which would impel her to such a step. Truly she must have suffered, before bringing herself to give up even the pleasure of ever meeting him again. He did not accept the letter, however, as a true expression of the Clara he had known. Of course she would long for his presence as days passed, and then would be the time for him to write her to return. A little scandal in a small country place could not injure him materially, but a scandal in Boston such as would be caused by a wife leaving her husband, would affect him very seriously—at this time, too, when his father, who was very fond of Clara, was very feeble. He might do something foolish.

Finally, though Albert was much troubled in mind, he comforted himself with hope; and when the first impulse of pity for Clara’s trials had passed, he began to blame her for taking such a rash step and endangering his good name before the world. This mood remained, fortifying itself, until he became convinced that he had been treated in a very shocking, even insulting manner. She would come back to him of course, but he would dictate the conditions. This settled, he went to find Ella. It was early evening, and she was walking in the maple avenue. She was almost icy in her manner, and reproached him for writing her to come to Dover.

“Why did you come, unless you wished to?”

“It was very unkind of you,” she said, not heeding his remark, “and it has caused such a horrid scandal. I don’t believe I shall ever live through it. Where is Clara?” He was silent, being a little disgusted that at such a time, Ella should think only of herself. “Oh, you need not tell me, if you don’t choose to. Oh, I wish I had never come to this horrid place! and now, to make everything worse, you are all changed to me.”

The ruling passion was still strong in Albert. He denied the assertion. It was against his principles to change; and as their conduct had shut them out from sympathy with all their surroundings, they naturally needed each other, and parted for the night on the best of terms, after deciding on the wisest plan to pursue. This was, for Ella to pass a month with some friends in Rhode Island, until matters were settled, while Albert was to go at once to Boston, and, by properly representing the case, forestall criticism. Here we will leave them, and go to Oakdale, to see what is passing in Dr. Forest’s home at precisely the same hour.

The doctor’s family were assembled in the sitting-room, where the wood fire had just been lighted in the grate, for the evening promised to be chilly. Mrs. Forest and Leila were busily engaged with some needle-work. Linnie was deeply absorbed in The Woman in White, and the doctor sat silently watching the fire, forgetting to light his pipe, which had been filled for some time. Upon this quiet tableau the door opened, and Clara, pale as death and travel-stained, entered, and with one great sob threw herself into her father’s arms. Mrs. Forest sprang to her feet, exclaiming, “Clara Forest! You come home like this, and alone! Where is your husband?”

Clara raised her head from her father’s shoulder, and, turning to her mother, said, just above a whisper, and with great effort, “I have no husband. I have left Albert Delano forever!”

Mrs. Forest, forgetting everything in her horror of a woman who has the audacity to leave her husband, and such a model husband too, could not control her indignation, and burst forth in cruel reproaches. The doctor said nothing for a minute or so, but kept on soothing Clara. His patience, however, could not endure his wife’s injustice. “Stop, Fannie!” he cried. “You offend me beyond endurance. Our poor girl comes to us ill and faint and weary of the world, and you receive her like this! Good God! Where is your common sense? You should think of the shock this tearing-away must cause her, and reserve your reproaches until you know the circumstances.” Clara, who had been clinging to her father, sobbing convulsively, now raised her head and commenced to explain as well as she could, for speaking was almost impossible.

“My daughter,” interrupted the doctor, “you need not justify yourself to me. Do I not know that it is natural for a wife to stick to her husband through thick and thin? You are a warm-hearted, honest girl, and the fact that you have left him, is enough for me. I know he has acted like a brute.”