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Updated: June 20, 2025
He thanked Lord Charlewood and began at once to look around for some one who would be a fitting person to take care of little Madaline. Lord Charlewood had expressed a desire to see all settled before leaving for Italy. Among the doctor's patients was one who had interested him very much Margaret Dornham. She had been a lady's-maid.
No one dreamed that the stranger whose visit to the little town had been such a sad one was the son of one of England's earls. Charlewood did not strike any one as being a very uncommon name. There was not the least suspicion as to his real identity. People thought he must be rich; but that he was noble also no one ever imagined.
The birds were singing in the morning sun; and Lord Charlewood, still crushed by his great grief, lay on the couch in the little sitting-room where he had spent so weary a night. "I cannot believe it," he said, "or, believing, cannot realize it.
Deep sympathy and pity were felt and expressed; kind-hearted mothers wept over the babe; some few were allowed to enter the solemn death chamber; and these went away haunted, as Dr. Evans was, by the memory of the lovely dead face. Through it all Lord Charlewood slept the heavy sleep of exhaustion and fatigue, and it was the greatest mercy that could have befallen him.
Letsom knew how the suffering of her daily life had increased even though she was comforted by the love of the little child. Madaline slept in her grave her child was safe and happy with the kindly, tender woman who was to supply its mother's place. Then Lord Charlewood prepared to leave the place where he had suffered so bitterly. The secret of his title had been well kept.
"Of course we cannot get on now," observed Lord Charlewood "at least Lady Charlewood cannot. How long do you think my suspense will last?" "Not much longer," was the calm reply. "By noon to-morrow all will be safe and well, I hope." "I must wait until then," said Lord Charlewood. "I could not leave my wife while even the faintest shadow of danger lies over her.
The table was strewn with papers, and Lord Charlewood taking some in his hand, said: "You should have a safe place for those doctor. Strange events happen in life. They might possibly be required some day as evidences of identification." "Not much fear of that," returned the doctor, with a smile. "Still, as you say, it is best to be cautious."
On the western slope, where the warmest and brightest sun beams lay, under the shade of the rippling lime-trees, they laid Lady Charlewood to rest. For long years afterward the young husband was to carry with him the memory of that green grassy grave. A plain white cross bore for the present her name; it said simply: In Loving Memory of MADALINE CHARLEWOOD, who died in her 20th year.
And in the first excitement of such happiness Lord Charlewood did not dare to tell his father the mournful story of his marriage and of his young wife's untimely death.
"Lady Mrs Charlewood is not so well as I had hoped she would be. Dr. Evans is considered very clever. I should like further advice. Shall I send for him?" The sudden flash of agony that came into Lord Charlewood's face was a revelation to Dr. Letsom; he laid his hand with a gentle touch on the stranger's arm. "Do not fear the worst," he said. "She is in the hands of Heaven.
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