An Ambitious Man - Page 68/100

"Fate hastened and furthered my plans for departure. Made aware that

the Baroness was suspicious of my fault, and learning that my lover

was suddenly called to the bedside of his fiancee, I made my escape

from the town and left no trace behind. I went to that vast haystack

of lost needles--New York, and effaced Berene Dumont in Mrs Lamont.

The money left from my father's belongings I resolved to use in

cultivating my voice. I advertised for embroidery and fine sewing

also, and as I was an expert with the needle, I was able to support

myself and lay aside a little sum each week. I trimmed hats at a

small price, and added to my income in various manners, owing to my

French taste and my deft fingers.

"I was desolate, sad, lonely, but not despairing. What woman can

despair when she knows herself loved? To me that consciousness was a

far greater source of happiness than would have been the knowledge

that I was an empress, or the wife of a millionaire, envied by the

whole world. I believed my lover would find me in time, that we

should be reunited. I believed this until I saw the announcement of

his marriage in the press, and read that he and his bride had sailed

for an extended foreign tour; but with this stunning news, there came

to me the strange, sweet, startling consciousness that you, my

darling child, were coming to console me.

"I know that under the circumstances I ought to have been borne down

to the earth with a guilty shame; I ought to have considered you as a

punishment for my sin--and walked in the valley of humiliation and

despair.

"But I did not. I lived in a state of mental exaltation; every

thought was a prayer, every emotion was linked with religious

fervour. I was no longer alone or friendless, for I had you. I sang

as I had never sung, and one theatrical manager, who happened to call

upon my teacher during my lesson hour, offered me a position at a

good salary at once if I would accept.

"I could not accept, of course, knowing what the coming months were

to bring to me, but I took his card and promised to write him when I

was ready to take a position. You came into life in the depressing

atmosphere of a city hospital, my dear child, yet even there I was

not depressed, and your face wore a smile of joy the first time I

gazed upon it. So I named you Joy--and well have you worn the name.

My first sorrow was in being obliged to leave you; for I had to leave

you with those human angels, the sweet sisters of charity, while I

went forth to make a home for you. My voice, as is sometimes the

case, was richer, stronger and of greater compass after I had passed

through maternity. I accepted a position with a travelling

theatrical company, where I was to sing a solo in one act. My

success was not phenomenal, but it WAS success nevertheless. I

followed this life for three years, seeing you only at intervals.

Then the consciousness came to me that without long and profound

study I could never achieve more than a third-rate success in my

profession.