“Alas, for human plans! That night I was taken violently ill, and when morning came I felt that my earthly race was almost run. I immediately sent for my brother, and he came. But only to curse me anew, and taunt me with my shame and degradation, and to swear that he would do nothing for me. I begged and pleaded that he would take my boy, and care for him, when I was gone, telling him I felt I could not live a week; but with a heart like adamant, he turned from me, and, as I thought, left me to die alone, and my darling to the cold care of strangers.
“But, contrary to all expectations, my disease took a favorable turn, and I grew better immediately. Still, I was so destitute and friendless that my heart nearly failed me at the prospect of continued toil and poverty, with no one to encourage or lend me a helping hand.
“A week passed, and I was able to sit up. One day, with a heart full of sorrow, and forebodings of ill, as I sat clasping my boy in my arms, as if I could thus shield him from all harm, I chanced to turn my gaze without, and saw Ralph coming again toward my dwelling.
“My heart told me at once that his coming was not to benefit me, but that he thought I was no more, and, with a dim spark of humanity still flickering in his bosom, he had determined to care for my boy.
“I made a sudden resolution, and, hastening to the woman who had charge of the house where I lived, and who was a gentle, kind-hearted creature, I hastily told her my situation, and begged her to tell my brother that I was buried.
“It was no lie that I urged her to speak, for I intended to effectually bury and hide myself henceforth from every one whom I had ever known or ever seen.
“The woman consented to do my bidding, from pity of me and my suffering child; and with an almost bursting heart I gave my idol the last embrace, and fled from the house to see him no more.
“My plot worked well. For Ralph Moulton took my child, gave him his own name, believing I was dead, and has reared him till the present moment. But, oh! better would it have been had I kept him with me, to suffer poverty and illness, hunger and thirst, and brought him up as best I could under the influences of a tender, loving heart, than to have committed him, so pure and innocent, to the care of one so vile and heartless, so devoid of principle, and all that makes a man good and noble. Oh! my boy, forgive your mother, for she erred unconsciously, believing she deserted you only for your future good.
“I felt you would never suffer hunger any more, that you would receive an education such as I craved for you, and perhaps in the end so twine yourself around your uncle’s heart that he would make you the heir of his vast wealth.
“But I know, my darling, by the hungry look in your eyes, that you have starved for the want of a little love and tenderness.”