45. CHAPTER XLV.
A WOMAN OF RESOURCES.
Mrs. Smith was furious at the result of the
trial. She complained loudly that she was the
victim of a conspiracy. The man named James
Smith was an adventurer, taking advantage of
some personal resemblance to pass himself off
as James Smith. If her case had been well
managed the fraud would have been exposed.
“Madame,” replied Mr. Hopp, “you have assured
me, time and again, that no such man as
James Smith existed.”
“How could I know?” replied the irate
widow. “I only lived with John Smith a little
more than a year. How could I know how
many brothers he had?”
“You admit, then, that your husband may
have had a brother?”
“Of course he may. Don't men always deceive
us?”
“Then, if your husband may have had a
brother, why may not this man be his brother?”
“Perhaps he is; but he lies when he says I
married him.”
“That, certainly, is a point on which you
ought to be well-informed. A woman in these
days may have a number of husbands, but she
can generally count them on her fingers. We have
lost this case because you were not frank with me.”
“Of course it is my fault! A man never commits
a stupidity but he throws the blame upon the nearest
woman.”
“The stupidity in this case was in placing reliance
upon your statements. Had I known that there was a
James Smith to spring upon me, I would have been
ready to receive him.”
“But Mr. Gray found out that there was such a
person.”
“Mr. Gray was in search of such a person—I was
not. You thought you could profit by keeping the
weak points of your case from your lawyer.”
“Well,” said Mr. Smith, “what shall we do now?
Can the case be appealed?”
“Yes; but it will cost money. You will have to pay
expenses, give bonds, and secure new counsel.”
“Are you going to throw me off?”
“You have thrown me off. I won't be made a spectacle
of in court for any woman's whim. You have
too many confidants, yet you refuse to make a confidant
of your legal adviser. Too much intrigue has
ruined your prospects.”
Mrs. Smith was silent. It was necessary to change
her tacties. She realized that she had relied too much
on her own slender mental resources, and too little on
her charms of person and manners. Mr. Hopp was a
man, and might he bound to her interests even though
he knew the whole truth. Hopp was clever, subtle,
patient, and rich. She might use Hopp's brain and
money to recover lost ground.
They were sitting in Mrs. Smith's parlor in the Lick
House. They were alone. Poor Joseph Fox had been
sent home with an injunction not to return until the
next day.
Mrs. Smith reflected that she had sinned for nothing.
The sin did not trouble her, but the lack of results
did. She was financially ruined. She had expended
the five thousand dollars she had managed to
withhold from Mr. Gray, and now the two hundred
dollars a month, which the court had allowed her
pending the suit, was lost. Something must be done,
or she would drift back into the old, hated life.
“Mr. Hopp,” she said, in her sweetest tone, in
which there was a touch of sadness; “I was unjust—
women, when disappointed, always are. Can you forgive
me?” and she held out her hand.
The hand was white and shapely. Mr. Hopp had
often thought that its caress would be sweet. He took
it and held it between his own.
“I have not been frank with you,” she continued.
“I did not dare to tell you the truth. You were only
my legal adviser—you were not my friend.”
“That,” said Mr. Hopp, “was your fault.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Would you not abandon me if I should tell you
something very terrible?”
“I should abandon you only if you tell me that
which is not true.”
“I wish I had trusted you at first.”
“I wish you had.”
Mrs. Smith was silent for a moment, and then, with
her handsome head reclining against the cushion of
her chair, in a position which revealed her features in
their most harmonious aspect, the light falling over
her shoulder, she rejoined:
“I have had a hard life. Born and bred in luxury,
I found myself approaching womanhood without
friends or resources. I came to this State, and I married.
My husband was a man without education or
refinement, and I grew tired unto death of my bondage.
I left him, and in time formed another alliance.
The years passed with varying fortunes. One day I
lived in affluence, and the next was without house or
home. One day the man whose fortunes I shared unfolded
to me a scheme by which our fortunes might be
secured. That scheme was to personate his brother's
wife—a woman still living, but who dared not claim
her own name and heritage. He promised that, in the
event of success, the fortune should be absolutely
mine, to use as I pleased. I accepted the proposition.
I successfully personated Mrs. John Smith, and I became
in law the mother of her daughter. But the
daughter never for a moment believed that I was her
mother. She knew by some instinct that I was an impostor.
While the daughter lived I had no security,
and I conspired against her. It was wicked, but one
of us had to go to the wall. Our antagonism was silent,
but deep and determined. I then thought I
would crush her without seeming to do so. I allowed
her to drift toward ruin, knowing that the lower she
sank the less dangerous she would be. Chance threw
her in the way of an old friend, from whom I had
carefully guarded her. You know the rest. I am
Mrs. James Smith. That man who appeared against
me yesterday is the husband I abandoned twelve years
ago.”
“Madam—”
“Don't call me madam!—it sounds so cold! This
may be the last time we shall meet; but, in my forlorn
condition. I crave sympathy and affection. Come
nearer; let me look into your eyes and see if, you are
still my friend.”
The lawyer drew his chair beside that of his fair
client. She leaned toward him, looked into his eyes
with a soft, pleading gaze, and let her head fall upon
his shoulder.
“I know you will not desert me” she continued.
“This case is all I have; win it for me, and what you
ask of me shall not be refused. Mliss is dead, and the
property of right belongs to my husband. You saw
him yesterday. I ask you if he is the man for a woman
like me?”
Mr. Hopp was well schooled in the intrigue of courts
of law, but not in that of courts of love. Ambition
had been his mistress in youth, and in early middle-age
a budding girl had enthroned herself in his heart.
His love for Regina had preserved him from alliances
in which affection was a controlling element; but,
man-like, he could distinguish between senses and
sentiment. He did not suppose for a moment that
Mrs. Smith cared for him; but she was handsome.
elegant, and young enough to be desirable. The tenderness
she simulated was as close an approach to love
as he desired from any woman but the one be could
not win.
“He is not a man you could love.” Mr. Hopp responded;
“and money would be a poor compensation
for a life passed with an uncongenial companion. But
you say Mliss is dead. Do you know she is dead, or
simply express your belief?”
“I will tell you what I know. Hereafter you shall
not complain of want of confidence on my part. When
Mr. Gray announced in court that he expected to secure
a witness named James Smith, I understood that
he had got his clue from Mliss. I did not them believe
this James Smith to be living, as his death was currently
reported. But the clue was a dangerous one in
the hands of a skillful lawyer, and the necessity of
separating him from Mliss became more urgent than
ever. It was arranged, therefore, between Mr. Waters,
whom you know, and a man named O'Neil, to
carry her off. O'Neil had an acquaintance named
Jake, who was the lover of one of Mrs. Shaw's servants.
A little money induced Jake to open the door
after the family had retired, to Waters and O'Neil.
The child was made insensible with chloroform, and
carried on board the bark Sea Nymph, bound to Valparaiso.
O'Neil was to go with her, under an arrangement
that he should receive ten thousand dollars if he
married her or furnished proofs of her death. O'Neil
sailed with the vessel, and so. I supposed, did Mliss,
until the discovery of her body led to a different conclusion.”
“You think, then, that it was the body of Mliss that
was found in the bay?”
“I have no doubt of it. The resemblance of hair
and teeth was perfect. The other portions were not
recognizable.”
“But physicians gave the opinion that the body was
that of a mature woman—of a woman, as I understood,
who was not a virgin.”
“A physician's opinion in a case of that kind is not
worth a rush. It was not pretended that the girl was
enceinte, and the condition of the body was such that
no intelligent opinion could be based on any minor
fact. Even if the physicians were correct, we do not
know what may have happened to Mliss.”
“If Mliss is really dead, the only real question is if
the estate shall come to you, as John Smith's widow,
or to this James Smith, as John Smith's brother.”
“That is it in a nutshell. Is it still possible to
win?”
“It is possible to win, provided Mliss is really
dead.”
“Then,” said the woman, with a flush rising on her
cheeks and a soft light beaming in her handsome eyes,
“I feel sure of success. You know now how wicked I
am, and you do not despise me. I shall owe everything
to you, and I shall not prove ungrateful.”
The lawyer replied by pressing her hand to his
heart.
“I am afraid,” added the lady, after a short pause,
“that we shall need to hold frequent consultations.
There are so many things to talk over, you know.”
“Yes,” assented Mr. Hopp, “there will be a good
many things to talk over. Suppose we outline our
plan of proceeding this evening?”
“Whenever you like,” was the soft reply.
