Chapter XXVIII: Lulu to Her Mother

"The earth has nothing like a she epistle,
And hardly heaven--because it never ends." --BYRON.

"LONDON, ENG., April 3, 1874

"Such a joyful thing has happened, dear mother, that I could scarcely
believe my own ears when (now more than two weeks ago) Bruce came in
and told me General Winans was in London, not dead at all, and only
just returned from France, where he had remained until thoroughly
cured of the wound which had left him for dead on the dreadful
battle-field. It seems that he was removed from the field by a poor
and devoted young French soldier, a private in the ranks, and carried
to a secure though humble place, where he was attended by a skillful
old Frenchwoman who dressed his wounds with real surgical skill, and
took care of him through a long period of convalescence, he having
two protracted relapses and nearly losing his life, sure enough. The
reason he was so carefully concealed by the old woman and her nephew,
was through fear of the Germans, as the war ended with that battle,
you remember, and the conquerors had things all their own way. When
quite recovered he rewarded the kind couple and left for London, and
had been here but two days when Bruce met him quite accidentally on
the street. You remember his old feud with Bruce, dear mother?

"Well, my dear husband tells me that he drew up his fine, princely
figure, and would have passed him without recognition had not Bruce,
with a resolution quite foreign to his easy nature, absolutely
button-holed the proud fellow, and told him, all in a breath, about
his marriage and his bridal-tour, and invited him to see Aunt Conway
and me at our hotel. Of course, in view of Bruce's being married, he
forgave him all he at present held against him, and came, nothing
loth, to see us, and was so delighted--not more than I, though, I
will admit. We kept him all the evening, and heard from his own lips
the romantic story of his joining and fighting in the army of France,
and of his rescue from death by the young French private. I used
to be half afraid of him, but now I think, mother, he is the most
fascinating and admirable gentleman I ever met--you know such an odor
of romance and adventure clings about him.

"He had a perfect torrent of questions to ask me about Grace. All of
them I answered to the best of my ability, but I was not, I confess,
prepared for his great agony when I told him she was at Memphis,
nursing the fever patients there. Mother, I never saw a human being
turn so pallid as he did. He sat quite still for a while, his hand
pressed to his brow, and only once I heard a sort of moan from
his lips, that sounded like, 'Oh, Grace, you have indeed avenged
yourself!' I hastened to assure him that the fever had abated, and
the nurses were all returning to their homes, and I expected Grace,
as also you and brother Willie, would soon return to Norfolk. And,
mother, I felt so sorry for him that I at once blurted out the story
of the little boy, Earle Willoughby. Oh, such happy, incredulous
excitement I never saw in any one before. Bruce had to tell it all
over to him. I was both laughing and crying during my relation of
it--'silly child!' as Aunt Conway says. Well, he and Bruce entered at
once upon an investigation that has resulted in restoring hope and
happiness to two that I love, and in making warm friends and allies
of those two men who once stood up on Norfolk's outskirts to try to
murder each other, with fiery hatred in their hearts.

"But time has changed all that. My Bruce is a better man to-day than
he was then, and General Winans is reasonable, less fiery, less
causelessly jealous. Painful experience has taught both of them
wisdom.

"Oh, mother, it is all as I expected. I am so happy in the happiness
that is to come to our beautiful Grace; my whole heart throbs with
such joyous emotion,

"'I could laugh out as children laugh
Upon the hills at play.'

"General Winans and Bruce lost no time in calling on the Willoughbys
to acquaint them with their suspicions. They found them away from
home. Investigation disclosed the fact that they had been summoned
to the mad-house of which their daughter, poor Christine Moreland,
was an inmate. She was very ill, and, as I am told many lunatics
do, recovered sense and reason when the cold hand of death was laid
upon her. She sent for her parents to confess the crime, the full
knowledge and remembrance of which first rushed upon her in that
hour. Bruce and General Winans followed them at once to the asylum,
which was an elegant and private one in high repute. They had no need
to tell their story. Sir Robert and Lady Marguerite knew all, were in
possession of all proofs, and in all their desolation gave back the
child, without an objection, to its rejoicing father. He has his own
again, and lacks but Grace's presence and forgiveness to make him the
happiest man in the world.

"But, mother, there seems some reactionary power in the laws of this
world that makes the sorrows of some the prices of others' happiness.
The grief of that lonely old pair, so suddenly despoiled of all they
looked on as kindred to them is something mournfully pathetic. Old,
and sad, and worn, as they looked, bending over the costly casket
that held poor little Mrs. Moreland, at the imposing funeral, I shall
never cease to compassionate them. Little Paul, or Earle, as he will
continue to be called, and his father, are their guests now, as they
cannot bear to give up the little boy until the last moment. But Sir
Robert, in his attachment to his little adopted son, intends making
him his sole heir, since the property is not entailed, and there is
no kin. General Winans has promised--with the proviso of his wife's
consent--that his son shall always bear the name of Earle Willoughby
Winans. General Winans has promised to visit them this summer again,
bringing his wife, if she will come. Gracie, you know, mother, has
never been abroad, and General Winans wants to bring her over here
for an extended tour.

"How my pen has run on jumbling up statements in happy, inextricable
confusion! But, mother, you must all be at home in May, for in May we
shall all be with you once again--oh, joyful thought!

"But, mother, Gracie, dear, patient, long-suffering darling, is not
to know anything about the child until we come home. General Winans
wishes it. He wants to bring her the joyful tidings in his arms, and
who can blame him? Mrs. Conway thinks it perfectly natural and right,
so does Bruce, so do I--and do not you think so, too, dear mother?

"The rest of the story--about General Winans being alive, and coming
home so soon--I want her to know. And, mother, I would like brother
Willard to tell her of it. He will take such pleasure in it! was
always so fond of her, so desirous of her happiness, that I want the
good news to come to her from his lips, because I think he would like
it to be so.

"Dear, dear brother Willie! Mother, I think sometimes that he is not
as happy as the rest of us. He has never said so--it may be only my
fancy--but my heart holds always such a great, unutterable tenderness
for him, and a sort of sacred reverence, as for some unspoken grief
of his. How happy I am that, God willing, I shall soon be folded
again to his dear, loving heart!

"Mother, do try to induce Gracie to take proper rest and sleep, so
as to regain her bright looks before we got home. She is never less
than lovely, but I want her to be at her best for the eyes of her
husband. For, mother, I do like him so much--indeed, he is a fine,
frank, noble follow, one whom you will like, I know. And he and Bruce
are quite good friends, so that there will be no more envyings,
jealousies, and such like, but the brooding dove of peace over our
hearts and homes, I trust, forever.

"I am so happy at thought of seeing you all again, and at all that
has happened, that I am too nervous, too glad, or too something, to
write more. Aunt Conway, looking over my shoulder at this, says it is
hysterical. I am not sure it is not; so, mother, dear, try to evolve
order out of this confused chaos of facts, and we will tell the story
more lengthily and intelligibly when we all get home, which, thank
Heaven, will be very soon. I have had no letter from you for a month.
Why is it?

"With tendered regards to all, I am your devoted daughter,

"LULU C. CONWAY.

"P. S.--General Winans would write to Grace, but fears repulse in
spite of my assurances to the contrary. He tells me he must ask
pardon only on his knees for the irreparable suffering he has caused
her gentle spirit. Perhaps he is right--I cannot tell. Once more with
fondest love, _au revoir_.

"LULU."