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Updated: June 15, 2025
Thrusting the pen in the limp fingers, Jessie Bain dipped it in the ink, and with her own hand guided the hand of Gerelda, making her write the following words on the white paper: "VARRICK MANSION, February 23d, 1909. "To those whom it may concern: I, Gerelda Varrick, lying on my death-bed, and realizing that the end may come at any moment, wish to clear from any suspicion, Hubert Varrick.
The reverend gentleman bowed, wondering vaguely why the stranger should catechise him after this fashion. "You seem well acquainted with the family history, my friend," he remarked, slowly. "Yes," Frazier answered, shortly, adding, in a low, smooth voice: "It was a fatal accident which robbed Hubert Varrick, some time since, of the bride whom he had just wedded.
And you said, Mr. Varrick, if they ever did that, to be sure and come straight to you and here I am!" Varrick's amazement knew no bounds. What should he do with this girl who was thrust so unceremoniously on his hands. "If it had not been for you and your kind words, I should have flung myself in the St. Lawrence," continued the girl, "for I was so desperate.
"No; I will carry her there myself. You say it is just around the corner?" Feeing the man generously, even though he had failed to restore the poor girl, Hubert Varrick caught her in his arms once more, again faced the terrible storm with her, and arrived at the hospital, panting at every step, for he had run the entire distance. He summoned a doctor.
Her whole life merged into one desire to watch Hubert Varrick and Jessie Bain. She employed herself in embroidering a light silken scarf. This she could take out under the trees, and see the two playing lawn-tennis on the greensward just beyond the lilac hedge. There was not a movement that escaped her watchful eyes during the whole live-long day. And during the evenings, too.
With almost her first breath, after she had kissed her rapturously, she told her that she had seen very little of Hubert Varrick, and that he had never crossed the threshold since that fatal night on which he believed that his bride to be had eloped from him.
"This way!" he called out sharply to the clerk in attendance. "Attend quickly to this young lady! She has been overcome with the cold! She is dying!" The young man behind the counter responded with alacrity, and hurriedly resorted to the restoratives usually applied in those cases, Hubert Varrick standing by, watching every action, his heart in his eyes, his face pale as death.
He was quickly presented to Gerelda's girl friends, and then the party made their way up to the Crossmon Hotel, which was only a few yards distant, Varrick and Miss Northrup lagging a little behind the rest. "I hope you have been enjoying your outing this season, my darling," said Varrick. "I have had the most delightful time of my life," she declared. Varrick frowned.
He saw a little figure standing in the dim, shaded light. She saw him at the same moment, and ran toward him with a little cry, flinging herself with a great sob at his feet. "Oh, Mr. Varrick!" she cried. "Why, it's little Jessie Bain!" he exclaimed in wonder, forgetting for the time being his own misery. "It's just as you said it would be, sir they have turned me out of the house.
Varrick more than those crushing words that fell from the lips of her handsome son "Mother, if you turn Jessie Bain from your door, I go with her!" Mrs. Varrick drew herself up to her full height and advanced into the room like an angry queen.
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