Victoria looked out the carriage-window at the trees, whose branches seemed to wave her a friendly adieu. She could almost hear them sigh: “Farewell, Victoria Vale. Adieu, fair maiden. When next we see thee, thou shalt be a loved and loving wife. Thou wilt have taken upon thyself vows which God alone can’st break.” She glanced at Roger, whose sightless eyes were turned toward her, and whose face expressed the joy which was in his heart. Did she regret the step which she was about to take? Not at all. She felt no misgivings for the future, only an ecstatic joy; a sense of sweetest rest. She trusted that God’s blessing was resting upon her, although she was disobedient to her mother.
Two hours later as the sun was just sinking, leaving a trail of crimson glory on “the Five Gables,” the carriage deposited the three conspirators at the marble steps of the grand entrance. Victoria, immediately upon alighting, slipped her arm through Roger’s. “Come, my husband, let us go and make our peace with mamma.” She led him to her mother’s apartments. Lady Vale was superintending the packing of two huge boxes, and looked up as the door opened and the two culprits stood before her. Something in their faces warned her of what was coming. Her face became stern and cold. “Well, you two are married?” she said, before either could speak.
Victoria gave a little scream and cried: “Who could have told you?”
“Your faces are the tale bearers,” returned Lady Vale. “You do not need to utter a word. I am not going to heap reproaches upon your heads as you evidently expect, and then mildly pronounce a blessing over you. All that I might, can, or shall say, will be communicated to you by my lawyer. From this hour I have no child. Victoria has chosen a man whom she has known scarcely two months, in preference to the mother who bore her, and who has loved her devotedly. So let it be. I do not love her any more, and I warn her that God will visit his wrath justly upon her, as he does on all disobedient children. No good can spring from this hasty marriage. Nothing but evil.”
“Mother!” cried Victoria, springing toward Lady Vale, “you are not cursing me?”
“No, Victoria. God shall curse you; not I. Leave me now, I do not wish to see you again while I remain. Rachel will soon have all the boxes belonging to me filled. Then I shall start for New York.”
“No, no! dear mother, stay here with us. I cannot have you go away with such a bitter feeling in your heart toward Roger and me. Or if you go, let us go with you. Forgive us, darling mamma. See, I kneel to you.” Victoria sank upon her knees and threw her arms about Lady Vale. “I do not love you the less for loving Roger too, dear mamma. Will you not make us happy by giving us your blessing?”
Lady Vale disengaged her daughter’s clinging arms. “Arise, Victoria, your pleadings are but a mere form. No loving, obedient daughter, could have so disgraced her mother as you have done this day. Did I not tell you that I had no daughter?”
Victoria gave a low wail as if struck to the heart, essayed to rise from her knees, but ere she could regain her feet she fell forward in a dead faint, breathing the name of “Roger” as she fell.
Lady Vale gazed upon the prostrate form of Victoria while Roger swiftly groped his way to her side. “Oh, God, if I could but see!” he cried. He kneeled and took his wife in his arms, softly stroking her face. Lady Vale pulled the bell cord, at the same time telling her maid Rachel to bring water.