CHAPTER XVII.
Molly crossed with her noble, handsome husband the beautiful ocean of which she had dreamed, and the skies seemed to smile on the fair young bride, for the weather was beautiful throughout, and the water so smooth and calm that many of the passengers escaped even a touch of seasickness. In ten days they were in London, where the bride met her new relatives, Cecil’s parents, and two school-girl sisters. When she went to Paris she met there Doctor Charlie Laurens, Cecil’s younger brother, who was studying at the medical school in that gay city.
All of these new friends Molly found very agreeable people, who were disposed to make a special pet of Cecil’s wife, and who were pleased and happy as he knew they would be because he had married a Barry. They dwelt on this latter fact so much that it was actual torture to Molly’s guilty soul.
“Oh, what will they say if they ever find me out?” she sighed often to herself, and her sin weighed upon her soul so heavily that even Cecil’s devotion fell short of making her happy. There kept whispering in her ear the still, small voice of conscience, and sometimes she would sob bitterly when alone in blind terror of the future, when she should be found out in her sin.
But life went on very brightly for many months in a whirl of gayety and pleasure. Mrs. Laurens, who was fond of society, managed to have her beautiful daughter-in-law presented at court, and after that invitations rained upon the beautiful couple. London lavished admiration on the lovely American bride, and Molly enjoyed it all with a feverish, fearful pleasure, knowing that at any moment her house of cards might tumble to pieces.
Mrs. Barry wrote her occasional letters from Ferndale, and in one of them she said that she had written to Lucy Everett all about her niece’s grand marriage and tour to Europe. She added that they had never answered the letter, by which she guessed that she and that Trueheart girl were too angry and envious to reply.
“They know it all now—oh, what will they do?” the little fraud gasped in a fright, but months went on and there came no signs from the real Louise Barry.
“They do not care about it, or they are afraid to speak as long as old Mrs. Barry lives,” the girl concluded at last, gladly, and many were the prayers she sent up to Heaven for the old lady’s long life.
“But will Heaven listen to such a sinner?” she would often gravely exclaim at the close of these petitions.
In the spring following her marriage she met, during the London season, Sir Edward Trueheart, with his wife and daughter, some country people who had come up to the city to enjoy the pleasures of the gay season, and were residing at their town house in Park Lane. It was their name that attracted Molly at first, and then they began to win upon her by a subtle charm that she could not explain.