USA > California > A picture of pioneer times in California, illustrated with anecdotes and stores taken from real life > Part 34
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" So, there being no alternative left for her, the over-dressed creature, without one word of remonstrance, did as she was or- dered; and Mrs. Briggs walked in and took full possession, with her five children.
" When Mr. Briggs came home for dinner, you may imagine the scene; but the upshot of it was that, after some days, the husband and wife were reconciled, and they are now living a happy family, both most grateful to me."
" Well," said the little widow, as Mrs. Bucket said the last words, with an air of triumph, "if I had been Mrs. Briggs, I would have got Captain Howard to tie a weight to that fellow's neck, and then pitch him off the wharf."
" And I would have had the over-dressed creature pitched after him," added another California grass widow.
" Ah, my dear ladies," said Mrs. Bucket, in a deep, sad tone; "your virtuous indignation is just like my own, but consider the children, and you will better understand poor Mrs. Briggs' conduct."
" Well," said the little widow, in a sarcastic tone, "Mrs. Bucket, if the Doctor should get well and get out, you know, as you said, before you get back, you can deal with him without the consideration that held poor Mrs. Briggs back. That will be one consolation you will have, you know."
A suppressed titter ran through the company, and Mrs. Bucket looked very angry, for the little widow had struck her tenderest point. Recovering herself, however, she resumed:
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" Now, ladies, I have told you all this for your own good- not, of course, for the sake of idle gossip, which every one knows I despise. You can make light of it or profit by it, ladies, just as you see fit; and in this same view I will tell you one more circumstance, on which you can put your own con- struction. I take the charitable view of it, for that is my way in all such matters. I am, in fact, too charitable, although I am sorry to acknowledge that the Doctor will not give me credit for that. Well, you must know a poor confiding wife, and there are many such soft women, arrived in San Francisco on one of the steamers, and, not seeing her husband coming on board to meet her, she got the Captain to send a messenger for him. The messenger arrived at the husband's house. It was late in the night, and the husband was in bed. The messenger, who personally knew the husband, knocked violently on the door, and called out: 'Fred, your wife has arrived, and is on board the steamer waiting for you.' Now, ladies, what do you think was the answer of this loving husband?" Mrs. Bucket's eyes were again over her spectacles. "Yes," she repeated, with em- phasis; " what do you think it was, ladies? Why, he calls out, ' Good Lord of Heavens! I told her to come round Cape Horn!' In a moment there was a great fuss in the house, and the mes- senger thought he heard talking. Then again the loving hus- band calls out, ' Bill, for Heaven's sake, do not let her leave the steamer until I come! Tell her I have gone to get a car- riage.' What do you think of all that ? But hear the rest. Well, the poor wife gets home, delighted to be reunited to her husband. Poor thing ! And all goes well until the husband leaves for his place of business the next day, when the poor wife, who goes to regulating her house, finds a woman's dress hanging behind one of the doors. Well, she sits down and cries herself half sick, poor thing! And the husband comes home, and finds her in that terrible way. At first she refuses to tell him the cause of her trouble, but at length she points to the dress. And what do you think this cunning husband does ? Why, he just bursts out laughing, and exclaims: ' Why, my darling Sally, that is a dress I borrowed from a lady friend and hung up there to remind me of you. Were you really jealous, my little pet ? '
" Oh," the poor wife exclaimed, "how foolish I was; I see it all now; it was just like you!"'
" Then she kisses him and pets him, to make him forget that
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she had been jealous. Well, ladies, I am of such a charitable turn of mind that I must believe this man was innocent. Yes; I must believe that he was glad his wife had arrived, and that she was not, as he thought she was, tossing in the storms off Cape Horn, while he was comfortably in bed that night. Yes, and that his motive was a good one when he told Bill not to let his wife get away from the steamer. Yes; I must believe his excuse, absurd as it was, about the dress. But, ladies, I will leave it to you to say whether, if I was like other people in charitable feel- ings; I could possibly acquit this man of being a terribly wicked hypocrite. Do not understand me, ladies, as wishing to destroy your amiable, sweet confidence in your husbands out there in Cali- fornia. No, no; I admire that, ladies, very much; it is so inno- cent and unsophisticated; but I just wish to hint that they will bear watching, as sure as you live. Now, ladies, excuse me, but I must close this interesting interview, for I have this day a very delicate task to perform; it makes me sad to think of it, for it concerns very near and old friends; I cannot even hint to you who it refers to, for that would violate my high ideas of the ob- ligation of friends to each other; but I will just tell you that it is another Briggs case, almost precisely, and that the parties concerned have long been residents of this very town of Newark. No, there is no use in your asking me, ladies, I cannot tell you; no, I will tell no one but the parents of the lady; they can do as they like."
All present at once saw that the parents she must mean were no other than the Morehouses, and all looked at each other with alarmed astonishment.
" No," said Mrs. Bucket, arising from her seat, "there is no use, ladies, I cannot give you the smallest hint of whom this case now in my hands refers to; it is a secret sacred with me; so good morning, ladies; I am glad to have met you, for it is really re- freshing to meet with ladies so full of child-like confidence in their husbands, and I sincerely hope you will never have cause to repent it."
As she ceased speaking her eyes were fixed on the little widow with a look that seemed to mean anything but the wish she had expressed. After they gained the street, the little widow said:
" I have a perfect horror of that woman, and I always had; I am sorry I went near her; I do not believe a word of her infa- mous hints about Mr. Allen, for, of course, she meant him."
In these sentiments the ladies seemed to concur, and separated.
CHAPTER XI.
MR. AND MRS. MOREHOUSE AND MRS. BUCKET.
When Mrs. Morehouse heard that Mrs. Dr. Bucket was in the parlor, she was perfectly astonished, and hastened to see her. Reaching out her hand she exclaimed:
" Oh, my dear Mrs. Bucket, I am so glad to see you; I am par- ticularly glad, as it shows me you had the good sense to leave that horrid California; I cannot bear to think of it. Did you see my son-in-law, Mr. Allen, before leaving ? I hope he has come to his senses, and will soon return also. Well, allow me to fix a chair near the fire for you, for the day is cold, and I want you to tell me all the news, and all about that horrid country you have left. Yes, sit down, and make yourself comfortable. I am so glad you came to see us so soon. Mr. Morehouse is out, but I can't wait for his return; so, at the risk of your having to tell it all over again, I want you to go on."
Mrs. Bucket took the seat Mrs. Morehouse had placed for her, but seemed to be a little uneasy and fussy in her manner, and commenced by saying:
" Well, my dear Mrs. Morehouse, I will, in the first place, tell you that I have not left California as you suppose. I have, in fact, come to make arrangements with an uncle of the Doctor's, who is rich, you know, to supply us with medicines for our drug store in San Francisco, where we are doing a most flourishing business, and making money very fast; and just as soon as these arrangements are completed I return to California without a day of unnecessary delay."
" Why, you surprise me very much, my dear Mrs. Bucket. Are there any ladies in San Francisco? I mean respectable ladies."
" Why, yes, Mrs. Morehouse; a great number of highly re- spectable ladies, and a great many nice, respectable families."
" Why, I heard from a person who had just returned from
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California that the respectable women who had ventured out there were all returning, and that Colonel Geary, who had gone out there as postmaster, and had taken his family with him, had to send his wife home, as it was actually unsafe for a woman to reside there."
" I believe Geary did send his wife home on some such excuse, but, if the truth was known, that was a mere excuse, because there is not a word of truth in such a statement; women are more thought of and as safe in San Francisco as they are here in Newark."
" Well," said Mrs. Morehouse, willing to change the subject,
" You and the Doctor have done well in San Francisco, you say."
" Yes, my dear Mrs. Morehouse, exceedingly well; and we are, I feel sure, in a fair way to make a fortune."
" I am truly glad, Mrs. Bucket, for your good fortune. How do you spend your time? What amusements have you out there ?"
" Well, as to amusements, we have very few; but I contrive to do a great deal of good in my spare time, for there is a great field in that country for well-directed efforts, in the way of helping newcomers and reforming some of those who are there."
" Oh, I suppose you must be overrun with low characters ?"
" No, Mrs. Morehouse, no; there is but one crying evil in San Francisco, and that is the conduct of married men who have left their wives here in the East. Their conduct is absolutely shocking and abominable ; and there is no exception, my dear Mrs. Morehouse."
Here she lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, and looked hard at Mrs. Morehouse.
"No exception, do you say, Mrs. Bucket ?" said Mrs. More- house, catching her breath.
" No, my dear Mrs. Morehouse; no exception can I make. I am sorry to say so to you, my dear friend."
Here Mrs. Morehouse lay back in her chair, and seemed to fear to ask another question. So Mrs. Bucket went on:
" You know, my dear Mrs. Morehouse, that I always had great detective talent-and this has enabled me to detect several gross cases of irregularity in the conduct of married men in San Fran- cisco. I, of course, do not look into their conduct through idle curiosity-you know me too well to think that-but it gives me
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opportunities of doing much good, and, in one instance, it enabled me to save a whole family from ruin. I will just tell you how it was." Here Mrs. Bucket told the whole Briggs story, and concluded with: " Now, my dear, respected friend, you have a son-in-law in San Francisco, and his wife is here."
Then Mrs. Bucket paused, while she regarded Mrs. Morehouse with a sad, sorrowful expression of face.
" Mrs. Bucket, do please go on," half gasped Mrs. More- house.
" Oh, yes, I must go on, and sorry I am for it, my dear friend; but it is my duty to go on, and I am very sensitive to duty; but, in this case, the duty is so painful that I believe I would be a coward, and not perform it, if it were not for the respect, the es- teem, the love, I may say, with which I have always regarded both you and Mr. Morehouse."
" Mrs. Bucket, you frighten me with all this preface. What can you be going to tell me? Do say at once what it is you have to tell."
" My dear Mrs. Morehouse, think how hard it is to me to break to you the matter now in hand ; but the harder it is the greater will be my consolation at having done my duty."
" Mrs. Bucket, I can not and will not endure this suspense. Say out at once what you have to say."
" Well, my dear Mrs. Morehouse, I am sorry to say that the case in hand is another Briggs' case, and that your son-in-law, Edmund F. Allen, is the man."
"Impossible !" exclaimed Mrs. Morehouse, rising upon her feet in great excitement. . "If you make that charge, madam, you will have to prove it, or suffer the consequences."
This put a new and unexpected face on the whole matter to Mrs. Bucket. She turned deadly pale as the thought crossed her mind that, in point of fact, she had no positive proof of the charge against Edmund, although she firmly believed she was speaking the truth.
To get out of the matter, she made up her mind to leave the house in dudgeon, and refuse to say another word on the subject, as though she had been insulted by Mrs. Morehouse. In pursu- ance of this idea, she started up and walked towards the door, at the same time saying:
" Mrs, Morehouse, I came here with the best intentions. To give you information that would have enabled you to save your
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daughter's family ; but you have insulted me, so you shall hear no more from me, and you can take the consequences."
As she said this, she turned to leave, but there stood Mr. More- house in the half-open door, listening in astonishment to her parting words. He had heard of Mrs. Bucket's return from California, but had not before seen her. Her words alarmed lim, though he could not comprehend them.
" Why, Mrs. Bucket, what is all this about ? Pray be seated and explain; for from the words I just heard I should judge they concerned us very much."
This was said in a decided, almost authoritative tone, that left no choice to the lady but to take her seat again. Mrs. Morehouse, willing and, in fact, anxious that her husband should have an opportunity of satisfying himself, remained silent, regarding Mrs. Bucket, however, with a contemptuous look.
" Now, Mrs. Bucket, please explain fully what you deem to so much concern the welfare of our daughter's family, and, be as- sured, that neither Mrs. Morehouse nor myself will ascribe to you anything but good motives, even if you are mistaken in the correctness of the information you give us."
"I am not mistaken, sir," said Mrs. Bucket, in the tone of one injured by an unjust suspicion. "And I do assure you, sir," she continued, " that nothing but the high respect and esteem I have for your family would have induced me to make the disclosure I have, as there is nothing so revolting to a na- ture like mine as to be the bearer of unwelcome news. In fact, I make it a rule to shut my eyes to the follies of the world, so that I may not be forced by a sense of duty to reveal unpleasant truths; but in this case, believing myself bound by the ties of old friendship, to look out for members of your family, I took pains to be fully posted and to make no mistake."
" Please proceed, Mrs. Bucket, and explain fully all that re- lates to us and our daughter's family, and we will receive what you tell us in the proper spirit, I assure you."
Mrs. Bucket then threw herself back in her chair and com- menced by a general onslaught on the grass widowers of San Francisco, and then went on to say :
" Some three months ago, I observed that Mr. Allen purchased a nice cottage on Stockton street, and furnished it beautifully. Happening to meet him, I asked him if he expected Mrs. Al- len to come to California soon. He said :
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" ' No,' that she would not consent to join him, and added:
"""" I will not stand this living alone much longer.'
" I then asked him what he meant to do with his cottage. To this question he said, laughing :
""' Oh, you must not ask too many questions, Mrs. Bucket.'
" So, having my own ideas, I left. Soon after this, I one day saw one of those over-dressed creatures, of which we have many in California, entering Mr. Allen's cottage. I was so surprised that, although it was raining, I stopped to watch the house, but she did not come out, and just as it was getting dark, and I was well benumbed by the cold and wet, I was shocked to see Edmund F. Allen himself entering the house; and he remained there also, my friends, for I watched until it was late. But, sir, I was not depending on this sort of evidence; for the next day, when I was turning out of Stockton street into Washington, I saw this very same over-dressed creature I had the evening before seen enter- ing Mr. Allen's house, standing in the butcher shop, which is on the southeast corner of those two streets. She had a small col- ored boy with her, holding in his hand a basket, into which, by her directions, the butcher was putting some meat and vegeta- bles. I stopped where I was, and looked on until this person and the boy came out of the butcher shop. I then followed them, at some distance, to make sure that she was in fact the creature I had seen the night before. Well, sir, it was so ; this very over-dressed creature and the boy entered the cottage. I had tried to get a sight of her face, but she kept her veil down, so that in this respect I failed. I was so shocked at this discor- ery of Mr. Allen's conduct, knowing how you both and his poor wife would feel, that I could scarce support myself to make a further investigation, which I now felt it my imperative duty to make, so that there should not be a possibility of a mistake or a doubt as to the true position of matters. I say to you truly, that I could hardly support myself, but my love of morality and my anxiety to do good, and my high regard for my old friends, gave me strength; so I returned to the butcher shop and asked the butcher if he knew the lady who had just been there with a col- ored boy. His reply was that of course he did. I then asked him who she was. To this question he replied by asking me if I knew the man who lived in the handsome cottage on the next block ? I said:
" ' Yes, it was Mr. Edmund F. Allen.'
1
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""" Well, then,' said he, ' that lady is Mr. Edmund F. Allen's wife.'
Mrs. Bucket now saw that both Mr. and Mrs. Morehouse be- gan to show signs of being convinced, and of being in great agony of mind also. So, as she continued, she assumed a more fam- iliar and friendly tone, in which she wished to show sympathy.
" Now, my dear friends, I was not yet perfectly satisfied ; that is, satisfied so that I could speak to you without having a shad- ow of a doubt, so I watched for a chance to see the colored boy alone. I was fortunate, for the very next day he came to our drug store for sticking plaster. The Doctor was out, so I had just the opportunity I wanted.
"' Who do you want the sticking plaster for, my boy ?' I asked, in a careless voice.
"' For the madam; she wants to put it on her husband's face, where he cut himself, shaving, this morning.'
" ' Has Mr. Allen been long married ?' said I, still in an indif- ferent tone.
" ' Before I saw him,' said the boy.
" ' Oh ! You have not been long with him, then.'
"' No; the madam hired me.'
" ' Is the madam very handsome ?' said I.
"' Oh, yes; very handsome. She is French.'
"' Does she speak English ?' said I.
"' Only a little to Mr. Allen; and he is trying to learn French all the time.'
" This I considered enough, but I have yet one more proof. In three or four days after I had this conversation with the boy, I met Mr. Allen and made an excuse to talk with him. He had not the sticking plaster on his face, but I saw plainly where it had been. Just as. I was leaving him, I looked straight in his face and asked him if he understood French. It was just as I thought, my friends. He grew scarlet and seemed very much confused, then said :
" ' Why do you ask that question, Mrs. Bucket? I wish I did understand it. I have a particular reason for wishing to be flu- ent in it just now.'
" I now became perfectly satisfied, and thought further investi- gation more than useless, and in about ten days after that con- versation I left California for the Eastern States. "I will conclude by saying that I am very sorry to be the bearer
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of such very bad news to you both, but I am sure you will ap- preciate my motives and ascribe them to my great friendship for you both."
Mr. Morehouse now took Mrs. Bucket in hand to cross-ques- tion her, bringing all his old practice as a lawyer to his aid in doing so. She saw his object, and was determined he should not get the least comfort from her answers. The more he questioned her the more she made Edmund's guilt appear, until, at length, she declared that his living, as she intimated, was notorious in San Francisco. Mrs. Bucket now rose from her seat to bid Mr. and Mrs. Morehouse good afternoon. Mrs. Morebouse either did not see her motions, or pretended not to do so, and abruptly left the room. Mr. Morehouse politely showed her out, and bade her good afternoon in as friendly a tone as he could command.
When he returned to the parlor, he found his wife weeping bitterly; and, in great grief, she exclaimed:
" Oh, Willard! Who could have thought that Edmund Allen would have turned out such a scamp? I thought he loved Ada as he did his life, and now he dishonors her and his children. What will our darling child do when she hears of it ? Do say, Willard, if you found anything in that horrid woman's story to make you doubt that she told the truth, for it is too horrid to believe."
Mr. Morehouse continued to pace up and down the parlor for some minutes in evident agitation. He then said:
" I believe that woman thinks she is telling the truth, and, I must say, I fear she is doing so. As you say, Sarah, it is truly terrible to think how our poor Ada will feel when she hears it."
" Well, then," said Mrs. Morehouse, sitting up erect, " if it is true, there is nothing for her to do but to sue for a divorce and let him and his French lady go."
Mr. Morehouse stopped walking and threw himself into a chair. Then, in a sorrowful tone, addressed his wife:
" Sarah, we have been in fault ourselves in this matter. Ed- mund would have taken his wife with him, but for us."
" Oh, Willard! It was not you who held her back. You are not in fault."
" Well, my dear wife, what you did, we both did. I ask not to escape, for I could have got your consent, had I sued for it properly; but, Sarah, we are both in fault, and the word ' divorce'. must never come from either of us. We have no right, under
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the circumstances, to even breathe such an idea. If the horrid word is ever spoken, it must come alone from Ada herself. Oh, Sarah! Think of our child being a ' divorced woman,' for, no matter where the fault lies, her caste in the community is forever gone. Think, too, of those little ones being the children of 'di- vorced parents. Their bright prospects being forever blighted!"
" Well, my darling husband, it shall be as you say. You are always generous to me, more so than I deserve. I was selfish, or I would have let Ada go when her husband wrote for her the last time. Yes, I was horribly selfish; but I am terribly punished. Oh, what will Ada do or say ? How can we break it to her? I could not do it."
And here again Mrs. Morehouse burst into tears and sobbing. " That is my duty," said Mr. Morehouse, in a firm and calm voice; " and I will, therefore, undertake it; and then poor Ada will want me near her when she receives the shock. Do not give way to such grief, wife, but trust that God will give her strength, for you know He says: 'The winds are tempered to the shorn lamb.' She is least in fault, because it was to filial love she yield- ed when she did not respond to her husband's call. This will be a comfort to her now, for she did not shrink from the duty of a wife through any selfish desire of ense."
" When do you go to the poor child, Willard ?"
" This evening, wife-at once, in fact; for the sooner what has to be done is done, the better for us all."
Mr. Morehouse arose from his seat, and again paced the par- lor floor, with his head bent forward, his eyes fixed on the car- pet, with a slow measured tread, absorbed in the deepest thought. His wife did not again disturb him, but continued to weep in silence. In this way half an hour may have passed, when Mr. Morehouse stopped short in his walk as he passed his wife's chair, stooped and kissed her, and then turned to leave the parlor. His wife laid her hand gently on his arm, and said, in a low, half-choked voice:
" Tell her I will come in a little while."
" Yes, dear; I will," said Mr. Morehouse, again kissing her.
In a moment more the outside door was opened and closed, and Mr. Morehouse was on his way to Ada's house.
CHAPTER XII.
THE WELCOME LETTER FROM EDMUND.
The California steamer that had brought Mrs. Bucket also brought Ada's usual letter from Edmund; but in this instance the steamer had arrived so late in the evening that Ada had to wait until the next morning for her letter. Somehow, it never seemed so hard for her to wait for the delivery of letters before, as it did this time. Alfred Roman wrote her a note to say that the steamer was in, but that he could not get the mail until eight o'clock in the morning, and that he would send her letter to her the moment it came to hand. After she retired to bed, she could not sleep. Over and over she read the letter in imag- ination, and while she did so she would sometimes drop into a half-sleep, and now the letter became an immense sheet before, her, and began to tell her of frightful things-of sickness, of fires, of earthquakes and of personal dangers besetting Ed- mund-until, starting from her sleep, she would recover her consciousness. So the long, long night wore away, and when the bright morning light dawned, it found her feverish and worn out with unascountably anxious thoughts. The letter promptly came, as Alfred had promised. She looked at the ad- dress. It was in Edmund's well-known bold hand-" Mrs. Edmund F. Allen, Newark, N. J." Passionately kissing it, she threw herself into a chair, and, opening it, read as follows:
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