Dan The Newsboy 32

Dan The Newsboy 32

"Bancroft! I know no one of that name," mused the lady. "Well, Margaret,

you may show him up, and you may remain in the anteroom within call."

 

Her eyes were fixed upon the door with natural curiosity, when her

visitor entered.

 

Instantly her face flushed, and her eyes sparkled with anger.

 

"John Hartley!" she exclaimed.

 

The visitor smiled mockingly.

 

"I see you know me, Harriet Vernon," he said. "It is some time since we

met, is it not? I am charmed, I am sure, to see my sister-in-law looking

so well."

 

He sank into a chair without waiting for an invitation.

 

"When did you change your name to Bancroft?" demanded the lady,

abruptly.

 

"Oh," he said, showing his teeth, "that was a little ruse. I feared you

would have no welcome for John Hartley, notwithstanding our near

relationship, and I was forced to sail under false colors."

 

"It was quite in character," said Mrs. Vernon, coldly; "you were always

false. But you need not claim relationship. The slender tie that

connected us was broken when my sister obtained a divorce from you."

 

"You think so, my lady," said the visitor, dropping his tone of mocking

badinage, and regarding her in a menacing manner, "but you were never

more mistaken. You may flatter yourself that you are rid of me, but you

flatter yourself in vain."

 

"Do you come here to threaten me, John Hartley?"

 

"I come here to ask for my child. Where is Althea?"

 

"Where you cannot get at her," answered Mrs. Vernon, coldly.

 

"Don't think to put me off in that way," he said, fiercely. "I will know

where she is."

 

"Don't think to terrify me, John Hartley," said the lady,

contemptuously. "I am not so easily alarmed as your poor wife."

 

Hartley looked at her as if he would have assaulted her had he dared,

but she knew very well that he did not dare. He was a bully, but he was

a coward.

 

"You refuse, then, to tell me what you have done with my child?" he

demanded, at length.

 

"I do."

 

"Take care, madam! A father has some rights, and the law will not permit

his child to be kept from him."

 

"Does your anxiety to see Althea arise from parental affection?" she

asked, in a sarcastic tone.

 

"Never mind what it springs from. I have a right to the custody of my

child."

 

"I suppose you have a right to waste her fortune also at the

gaming-table."

 

"I have a right to act as my child's guardian," he retorted.

 

"A fine guardian you would make!" she said, contemptuously.

 

"Why should I not?" he asked, sulkily.

 

"Why should you not, John Hartley? Do I need to answer the question? You

ill-treated and abused her mother. You wasted half her fortune.

Fortunately, she escaped from you before it was all gone. But you

shortened her life, and she did not long survive the separation. It was

her last request that I should care for her child--that I should, above

all, keep her out of your clutches. I made that promise, and I mean to

keep it."

 

"You poisoned my wife's mind against me," he said. "But for your cursed

interference we should never have separated."

 

"You are right, perhaps, in your last statement. I certainly did urge my

sister to leave you. I obtained her consent to the application for a

divorce, but as to poisoning her mind against you, there was no need of

that. By your conduct and your treatment you destroyed her love and

forfeited her respect, and she saw the propriety of the course which I

recommended."

 

"I didn't come here to be lectured. You can spare your invectives,

Harriet Vernon. What is past is past. I was not a model husband,

perhaps, but I was as good as the average."

 

"If that is the case, Heaven help the woman who marries!"

 

"Or the man that marries a woman like you!"

 

"You are welcome to your opinion of me. I am entirely indifferent to

your good or bad opinion. Have you any more to say?"

 

"Any more to say! I have hardly begun. Is my daughter Althea with you?"

 

"I don't recognize your right to question me on this subject, but I

will answer you. She is not with me."

 

"Is she in London?"

 

"I will even answer that question. She is not in London."

 

"Is she in England?"

 

"That I will not tell you. You have learned enough."

 

John Hartley did not answer immediately. He appeared to be occupied with

some thought. When he spoke it was in a more conciliatory tone.

 

"I don't doubt that she is in good hands," he said. "I am sure you will

treat her kindly. Perhaps you are a better guardian than I. I am willing

to leave her in your hands, but I ought to have some compensation."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Althea has a hundred thousand dollars, yielding at least five thousand

dollars income. Probably her expenses are little more than one-tenth of

this sum. While my child is rich I am poor. Give me half her income--say

three thousand dollars annually--and I will give you and her no further

trouble."

 

"I thought that was the object of your visit," said Mrs. Vernon, coldly.

"I was right in giving you no credit for parental affection. In regard

to your proposition, I cannot entertain it. You had one half of my

sister's fortune, and you spent it. You have no further claim on her

money."

 

"Is this your final answer?" he demanded, angrily.

 

"It is."

 

"Then I swear to you that I will be even with you. I will find the

child, and when I do you shall never see her again."

 

Mrs. Vernon rang the bell.

 

Margaret entered.

 

"Margaret," she said, coldly, "will you show this gentleman out?"

 

John Hartley rose and bowed ironically.

 

"You are certainly very polite, Harriet Vernon," he said. "You are bold,

too, for you are defying me, and that is dangerous. You had better

reconsider your determination, before it is too late."

 

"It will never be too late; I can at any time buy you off," she said,

contemptuously. "All you want is money."

 

"We shall see," he hissed, eying her malignantly.

 

"Margaret," said Mrs. Vernon, when her visitor had been shown out,

"never admit that person again; I am always out to him."

 

"Yes, mum," said the girl. "I wonder who 'twas," she thought, curiously.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXX.

 

HOW HARTLEY GOT A CLEW.

 

 

John Hartley, when a young man, had wooed and won Althea's mother. Julia

Belmont was a beautiful and accomplished girl, an heiress in her own

right, and might have made her choice among at least a dozen suitors.

That she should have accepted the hand of John Hartley, a banker's

clerk, reputed "fast," was surprising, but a woman's taste in such a

case is often hard to explain or justify. Her sister--now Mrs.

Vernon--strenuously objected to the match, and by so doing gained the

hatred of her future brother-in-law. Opposition proved ineffectual, and

Julia Belmont became Mrs. Hartley. Her fortune amounted to two hundred

thousand dollars. The trustee and her sister succeeded in obtaining her

consent that half of this sum should be settled on herself, and her

issue, should she have any.

 

This proved to be a wise precaution. John Hartley resigned his position

immediately after marriage, and declined to enter upon any business.

 

"Why should I?" he said. "Julia and I have enough to live upon. If I am

out of business I can devote myself more entirely to her."

 

This reasoning satisfied his young wife, and for a time all went well.

But Hartley joined a fashionable club, formed a taste for gambling,

indulged in copious libations, not unfrequently staggering home drunk,

to the acute sorrow of his wife, and then excesses soon led to

ill-treatment. The money, which he could spend in a few years, melted

away, and he tried to gain possession of the remainder of his wife's

property. But, meanwhile, Althea was born, and a consideration for her

child's welfare strengthened the wife in her firm refusal to accede to

this unreasonable demand.