CHAPTER XXIII.
The day after the arrival of the Eliza Judd, Captain Gray left for New York, where his former home had been. His long exile from his native land and the loss of his family had embittered him. He felt no desire to return to Kaahlanai, where his daughter had defied his commands, following the promptings of her own heart. Life seemed to Captain Gray, a battle to be fought anew. He was no longer young, and it was a hard trial, at his age, to face the loss, not only of his family, but also his vessel, and, with her almost all his worldly possessions; therefore, we need not be surprised that he appeared a broken old man, as he boarded the train bound eastward.
“Lucy,” said Mabel one morning, about six months after the arrival of the Eliza Judd at San Francisco, “Ahleka and I have been talking over our intended return to Kaahlanai. We, both of us prefer the free life there, to that which is led here. We have chartered the Eliza Judd for the trip. Captain Harris says that he will be ready to leave in about a week.”
“Oh! Mabel,” exclaimed Lucy, “how am I going to exist without you? It seems dreadful to think of your leaving me again; but Mabel, after all, why need you leave me behind? Cannot my little Mae and I go with you? There, among those people, whom you have already taught me to love, I may still be happy; there I can bring my darling child up according to the dictates of nature, and need not follow the false ideas that are adhered to among our own people. May we go with you?”
“Indeed you may; we will be only too glad to take you to that paradise where all are so happy. But your husband, will he not object? And will not your mother place obstacles in your way?”
“My husband has passed out of my life entirely. Why, do you know, it has been over two months since I have seen him, or even heard from him. I know he is travelling somewhere in the east accompanied by that creature, Rosie Hastings. As to my mother, I cannot help it, if she does not like it. I shall not let pass this opportunity of securing happiness for myself and Mae.”
“Lucy, you do not know how glad I am that you have decided to accompany us. I did so want to ask you to go, but thought it best to wait until your own heart made you speak.”
That same afternoon Mabel had a long talk with Mr. Faxon, her lawyer, in regard to money matters, the result of which was, that Mabel set aside a certain sum of money for the use of her aunt, Mrs. Maynard. The residue of her property was to be divided amongst deserving people of the middle class; that class, whose whole existence is one struggle to get on in life without letting outsiders know how hard the battle is, in which they fight.
“For theirs is the hardest lot of all,” said Mabel; “they cannot ask help, and cannot take it without lowering their self esteem. The very poor ask, and receive help, but these, never; they must suffer in silence.”
The money was to be sent to them in such a manner, that none of the recipients should ever know whose hand had relieved them of the heavy burdens they had borne so long and patiently.