Gretchen: A Novel

by Mary Jane Holmes

Turning it over he saw on the back a word traced in English letters, in a very uncertain, scrawling hand, as if it were the writer's first attempt at English. Spelling it letter by letter he made out "Wiesbaden," and knew it was some German town. Did Gretchen live there, he wondered, and how could he find out, and what should he do? He had not yet seen the child at the cottage, but from some things Harold said, he knew she was more like this picture than like the dead woman, and he felt sure that he ought to show Arthur the photograph, and tell him his suspicions.

Frank was not a bad man, nor a hard-hearted man, but he was ambitious and weak. He had enjoyed money, and ease, and position long enough to make him unwilling to part with them now, while for his children he was more ambitious than for himself. To see Tom master of Tracy Park was the great desire of his life, and this could not be, if what he feared were proved true.

"I will see the child before I decide what to do," he thought. "I can never know anything for certain, and I should be a fool to give up all my children's interests for an idea which may have no foundation. Arthur does not know half the time what he is saying, and might not tell the truth about Gretchen. She may not have been his wife. On the whole, I do not believe she was. He would never have left her if she had been, and if so, this child, if she is Gretchen's, has no right to come between me and mine. No, I shall wait a little while and think, though in the end I mean to do right."

With these specious arguments Frank tried to quiet his conscience, but he could not help feeling that Satan had possession of him, and as he hurried through the hall he said aloud, as if speaking to some one:

"Go away—go away! I shall do right, if I only know what right is."

He did not see his brother again that day, or go to the cottage either, but as he was dressing himself next morning he said to his wife:

"That little girl ought to see her mother before she is buried. I shall send for her to-day. The coroner will be here, too. Did I tell you I had a telegram last night? He is coming on the early train."

Mrs. Tracy passed the allusion to the coroner in silence, but of the little girl she said:

"I suppose the child must come to the funeral, but you surely do not mean to keep her? We are not bound to do that because her mother froze to death on our premises."

"Would you let her go to the poor-house?" Frank asked, but Dolly did not reply, and as the breakfast-bell just then rang, no more was said of the little waif until the sleigh was brought to the door, and Frank announced his intention of stopping for the child on his way back from the station, where he was going to meet the coroner.