The Nine of Hearts

"I love her with all my heart and soul," said Mrs. Rutland, weeping. "If my daughter is taken from me, I shall not care to live!"

"In deep sincerity, then," said Dr. Daincourt, "I declare to you that you may be acting as your daughter's enemy instead of her friend if you do not open your heart and mind to me freely and without restraint. Relate as briefly as you can, without omitting important points, the story of her life."

It was a simple, touching story which Mrs. Rutland disclosed, fragrant with all that is sweetest in woman. The Rutlands have but two children, Mabel and Eustace, who came into the world within a few minutes of each other. Between these children existed a most profound and devoted love, and to tear Eustace away from Mabel was like tearing the girl's heartstrings. The lad's love was the weaker of the two, as is usually the case, but he nevertheless adored his sister, who repaid him tenfold for all the affection he lavished upon her. They grew up together, shared each other's pleasures, had secret and innocent methods of communicating with each other which afforded them intense delight, and were inseparable until they reached the age of eighteen, when Eustace went to college. Hitherto his studies had been conducted at home, a home of peace and harmony and love; for, stern and implacable as Mr. Rutland was, he loved his children and his wife; but he loved something else equally well-his honor and his good name. While Eustace was absent at college, he and Mabel corresponded regularly.

"But," said the mother, "neither my husband nor myself was ever able to understand Eustace's letters to his sister. They were always written in the form of mystery-letters. It had been their favorite amusement when they were children to discover and invent new methods of corresponding with each other, of which only they possessed the secret. 'There, mamma,' Mabel would say, with a laugh, giving me one of my dear Eustace's letters from college, 'read that!' But it might as well have been written in Greek for anything that I could make of it. Words and figures were jumbled together, without any meaning in them that I could discover, and the entire page was a perfect puzzle. Then Mabel would take the letter from me, and read it off as easily as possible; and I remember her saying once, 'If Eustace and I ever have any real secrets, mamma, we shall be able to tell them to each other through the post, without any person in the world being one bit the wiser.' Little did I think that the time would arrive when her words would bear a fatal meaning."

Eustace, then, being at college, and Mabel at home, it unfortunately happened that the lad fell into evil ways. He got mixed up with bad companions. The hours that should have been employed in study were wasted in gambling and dissipation, and his career at college was by no means creditable. His father had set his heart upon Eustace obtaining honors at Oxford, and he was sorely and bitterly disappointed when the reports of his son's proceedings reached him. Unfortunately these reports did not come to his ears until much mischief had been done, and it was at about this time that Eustace returned home, declaring that he would never go back to college.

At about this time, also, momentous events were occurring in Mabel's life. A beautiful girl, with an amiable and sweet disposition, with most winning ways, and with a wealthy father moving in a good social position, it was not to be wondered at that she had suitors for her hand; but there were only two whose affection for her was regarded seriously by the family. One of these was Mr. Edward Layton, the other Mr. Archibald Laing.

Mabel's father favored the suit of Archibald Laing; Mabel's uncle, the gentleman who was upon the jury in the trial, favored the suit of Edward Layton. He was never weary of sounding the young man's praises, and it may be that this rather strengthened Mabel's father against Edward Layton. However, the young lady had decided for herself. She had given her heart to Edward Layton, and there grew between them an absorbing and devoted attachment.

While these matters were in progress, both Archibald Laing and Edward Layton were admitted freely to the house, and thus they had equal chances. But when the lady whom two men are in love with makes up her mind, the chances are no longer equal. It was not without a struggle that Archibald Laing abandoned his pretensions. From what afterwards transpired, he could not have loved Mabel with less strength than Edward Layton did. It was no small sacrifice on his part to relinquish his hopes of winning Mabel for his wife, more especially when her father was on his side. There were interviews of an affecting nature between him and Mabel. There were interviews, also, between him and Edward Layton. The two men had been friends long before they came into association with Mabel Rutland, and it speaks well for the generosity and nobility of their natures that this affair of the heart-the like of which has been the cause of bitter feuds from time immemorial-did not turn their friendship into enmity. In the estimate of their characters at this period Archibald Laing showed the higher nobility, for the reason that it devolved upon him to make a voluntary and heart-rending sacrifice. He informed the young lady's parents that he gave up all hope of obtaining their daughter's hand, and at the same time he declared that if it ever lay in his power to render Mabel or Edward Layton a service, he would not hesitate to render it, whatever might be the cost. Nobly has he redeemed this pledge.

He suffered much-to such an extent, indeed, that he determined to leave the country, and find a home in another land. He bade the Rutlands farewell by letter, and sailed for America, where he settled, and realized an amazing fortune.

The field was thus left free for Mabel and Edward. Mr. Rutland was seriously displeased. He had been thwarted in a wish that was very dear to him, and he was not the kind of man to forget the defeat. Although Edward Layton was allowed to come to the house, Mr. Rutland received him without favor, and it was only upon the imploring and repeated solicitations of his wife and daughter that he consented to an engagement between the young people. It was a half-hearted consent, and caused them some unhappiness. More than once he declared in their presence, and in the presence of his wife, that if anything ever occurred which would cast the slightest shadow of doubt or dishonor upon Edward Layton, no power on earth should induce him to allow the marriage to take place. It was not necessary for him to impress upon them that, above everything else in the world, he was jealous of his good name. They knew this well enough, and were in a certain sense proud in the knowledge, because the stainless reputation he bore reflected honor upon themselves. But they did not see the cloud that was hanging above them. It gathered surely and steadily, and brought with it terrible events, in the whirlpool of which the happiness of Mabel and Edward was fated to be ingulfed.

The cause lay not in themselves. It lay in Eustace Rutland. It was he who was responsible for all.

He was in London, in partial disgrace with his father. He was without a career; he had already contracted vicious and idle habits; he was frequently from home; and although his father questioned him severely, he would give no truthful account of his movements and proceedings. Some accounts he did give, but his father knew instinctively that they were false or evasive. As he could obtain no satisfaction from his son, Mr. Rutland, aware of the perfect confidence which existed between Eustace and Mabel, applied to her for information; but she would not utter one word to her brother's hurt. Her father could extract nothing from her, and there gradually grew within him an idea that there was a conspiracy against him in his own home, a conspiracy in which Edward Layton was the principal agent. It was natural, perhaps, that he should think more hardly of this stranger than of his own children.

Had he set a watch upon his son, he might have made discoveries which would have been of service to all, and which might have averted terrible consequences. But proud and self-willed as he was, it did not occur to him to do anything which in his view savored of meanness. His son Eustace went his way, therefore, to sure and certain ruin. When he was absent from home he corresponded regularly with his sister, and Mr. Rutland sometimes demanded to see this correspondence.

"You can make nothing of it, papa," said Mabel. "Eustace and I do not correspond like other people."

He insisted, nevertheless, upon seeing these letters, and Mabel showed them to him. As he could not understand them, he demanded that she should read them intelligibly to him; but it being a fact that there was always something in Eustace's correspondence which would deepen his father's anger against him, the young girl refused to read them. This, as may be supposed, did not tend to pacify Mr. Rutland. It intensified the bitterness of his heart towards those whom he believed were conspiring against him. He applied to Edward Layton.

"You are in my daughter's confidence," he said to the young man, "and as you have wrung from me a reluctant consent to an engagement with her, I must ask you to give me the information which she withholds from me."

He met with another rebuff. Edward Layton declared that he would it violate the confidence which Mabel had reposed in him. At one time Mr. Rutland said to Edward Layton,

"My son has been absent from home for several days. Have you seen him?"

"Yes, sir," replied Edward, "I have seen him."

But he would say nothing further.

He was in a most painful position. Mabel had extracted from him a solemn promise that he would reveal nothing without her consent, and he was steadfastly loyal to her. He had another reason for his silence, and, in the light of that reason, and of the feelings which Mr. Rutland harbored towards him, he felt that the happiness he hoped would be his was slipping from him.

The explanation of this other reason, which unhappily was a personal one, brings upon the scene a person who played a brief but pregnant part in this drama of real life, and who is now in his grave. This person was Edward Layton's father.

"What was the nature of the relations," said Mrs. Rutland, "between this gentleman and my dear son Eustace I do not know. All that I do know is that they were in association with each other, and, I am afraid, not to a good end. It came, also, by some strange means, to the knowledge of my husband, and a frightful scene occurred between him and Edward Layton, in which Mabel's lover was dismissed from the house. My husband withdrew the consent he had given to the engagement, and used words which, often since when I have thought of them, have made me shudder, they were so unnecessarily cruel and severe. 'If from this day,' my husband said to the young gentleman, 'you pursue my daughter with your attentions, you will be playing a base and dishonorable part. If you wish me to turn my daughter from my house, you can by your actions bring about this result. But bear in mind, should it come to pass, that she will go from my presence with my curse upon her-a beggar! I am not ignorant my duties with respect to my children. I have not been sparing of love towards them. Hard I may be when my feelings are strongly roused, but I am ever just. In the secrets that are being hidden from me there is, I am convinced, some degrading and shameful element otherwise, it is not possible that you should conspire to keep them from me. If the matter upon which you are engaged were honorable, there would be no occasion to keep it from my knowledge. Do not forget that you have it in your power to wreck not only my daughter's happiness, but her mother's and mine, if that consideration will have any weight with you.' There was much more than this, to which Mr. Edward Layton listened with a sad patience, which deepened my pity for him. He bore, without remonstrance, all the obloquies that were heaped upon him by my unhappy husband, who soon afterwards left the room with the injunction that Mr. Layton was on no account to be allowed an interview with my daughter. Then Mr. Layton said to me, 'I must bear it. If the happiness of my life is lost it will be through the deep, the sacred love I bear for your child. I devote not only the dearest hopes of my life, but my life itself, to her cause. Fate is against us. A man can do no more than his duty.'"

From that day to this Mabel's mother has never seen Edward Layton. When she heard of his marriage into a family whose position in society was to say the least equivocal, she was in great distress, fearing the effect the news would have upon her dear daughter. Mabel Rutland suffered deeply, but during that time of anguish she appeared to summon to her aid a certain fortitude and resignation which served her in good stead. It astonished her mother, one day, to hear her say,

"Do not blame Edward, mamma he is all that is good and noble. Although he is another lady's husband, and although our lives can never be united, as we had once hoped, I shall ever love and honor him."

"Time will bring comfort to you, my darling," said the mother, "and it may be that there is still a happy fate in store for you. You may meet with another man, around whom no mystery hangs, to whom your heart will be drawn."

"Never, mamma," replied Mabel. "I shall never marry now."

What most grievously disturbed Mrs. Rutland was the circumstance that, even within a few weeks of Edward Layton's marriage, he corresponded with her daughter. Her father was not aware of this. He usually rose late in the morning, and it devolved upon Mrs. Rutland to receive the correspondence which came by the first post. The letters that Edward Layton wrote to Mabel were invariably posted at night, from which it would appear that the young man was aware that they would fall into the hands of Mabel's mother, and that Mr. Rutland, unless he were made acquainted with the fact, was not likely otherwise to discover it. When Mrs. Rutland gave her daughter the first letter from Mr. Layton, Mabel said to her,

"Do not be alarmed, mamma. This letter is in reply to one I wrote to Mr. Layton. I may have other letters from him which I beg you to give me without papa's knowing. It may appear wrong to you, but it is really not so. Everything is being done for the best, as perhaps you will one day learn."

Sad at heart as Mrs. Rutland was, she had too firm a trust in her daughter's innate purity and sense of self-respect not to believe what she said, both in its letter and in its spirit, and thus it was that the secret of this correspondence was also kept from Mr. Rutland. By pursuing the course she did, Mrs. Rutland preserved, to some extent, peace in the household.

Thus matters went on for two years, until Eustace Rutland's wild conduct produced a terrible disturbance. His absences from home had grown more frequent and prolonged; he became dreadfully involved, and Mr. Rutland received letters and visits from money-lenders (a class of men that he abhorred) in connection with his son's proceedings. Incensed beyond endurance, he banished Eustace from the house, and forbade him ever again to enter his doors.

"It seemed to be fated," said Mrs. Rutland, "that there should be always something in our family that it was necessary to conceal from my husband's knowledge. He banished Eustace from home, but that did not weaken my love for our dear lad. Three times during the past year I have seen Eustace, and I have not made my husband acquainted with the fact. What could I do? Had I asked his permission he would have sternly refused it, and had I told him that I could not resist the impulse of my heart to fold my dear boy in my arms, it would only have made matters worse for all of us."

She related to Dr. Daincourt a circumstance which had deeply angered her husband. Among the presents the father had given to his daughter was a very costly one, a diamond bracelet of great value, for which Mr. Rutland had paid no less than five hundred guineas. One evening a dinner-party was given at the house, and Mr. Rutland particularly desired that Mabel should look her best on the occasion. He said as much to his daughter, and expressed a desire that she should wear certain articles of jewellery, and most especially her diamond bracelet. He noticed at the dinner-table that this bracelet was not upon Mabel's arm; he made no remark before his guests, but when they had departed he asked Mabel why she had not worn it.

"I have so many other things, papa," she replied, "that you have given me. It was not necessary."

"But," said her father, "I desired you particularly to wear the bracelet. Is it broken? If so, it can be easily repaired. Let me see it."

Then the mother saw trouble in her daughter's face. Mabel endeavored, to evade her father's request, and strove to turn the conversation into another channel. But he insisted so determinedly upon seeing the bracelet that she was at length compelled to confess that it was not in her possession. Upon this Mr. Rutland questioned her more closely, but he could obtain from her no satisfactory information as to what had become of it. Suddenly he inquired if her purse was in her room. She answered yes, and he desired her to bring it down to him. She obeyed; and when he opened the purse he found only three or four shillings in it.

"Is this all you have?" he inquired.

"Yes, papa," she said, "this is all."

"But it was only yesterday," said Mr. Rutland, "that you asked me for twenty pounds, and I gave it to you. What have you done with the money?"

Upon this point, also, he could obtain no satisfactory information. He was greatly angered.

"I thought," he said "when Mr. Layton married into the family of a professional sharp-a fit connection for him-that the conspiracy in my house against my peace of mind, and, it seems to me, against my honor, would come to an end. It was not so. I perceive that I am regarded here as an enemy by my own family, not as a man who has endeavored all through life to perform his duties in an honorable and straightforward way. Go to your room, and let me see the diamond bracelet before this month is ended, or let me know what you have done with it. If you have lost it," he added, gazing sternly upon his daughter, "find it."

Before the month was ended Mabel showed him the diamond bracelet; but her mother was aware that there were other articles missing from among her daughter's jewellery.

Mrs. Rutland having come to the end of her narrative, Dr. Daincourt began to question her.

"Your daughter," he said, "was taken ill on the 26th of March, and I understand that she has been confined to her bed since that day. Were there any premonitory symptoms of a serious illness, or was the seizure a sudden one?"

"It was quite sudden," replied Mrs. Rutland. "I went into her room early in the morning, and found her in a high state of fever."

"Has she been sensible at all since that time?"

"No."

"Not sufficiently sensible to recognize any one who attended her?"

"No; she does not even know me, her own mother."

"What did the physician whom you first called in say about the case?"