Mr Frank Palmer was back again in England. He was much distressed
when he received that last letter from Mrs Caffyn, and discovered
that Madge's resolution not to write remained unshaken. He was
really distressed, but he was not the man upon whom an event, however
deeply felt at the time, could score a furrow which could not be
obliterated. If he had been a dramatic personage, what had happened
to him would have been the second act leading to a fifth, in which
the Fates would have appeared, but life seldom arranges itself in
proper poetic form. A man determines that he must marry; he makes
the shop-girl an allowance, never sees her or her child again,
transforms himself into a model husband, is beloved by his wife and
family; the woman whom he kissed as he will never kiss his lawful
partner, withdraws completely, and nothing happens to him.
Frank was sure he could never love anybody as he had loved Madge, nor
could he cut indifferently that other cord which bound him to her.
Nobody in society expects the same paternal love for the offspring of
a housemaid or a sempstress as for the child of the stockbroker's or
brewer's daughter, and nobody expects the same obligations, but Frank
was not a society youth, and Madge was his equal. A score of times,
when his fancy roved, the rope checked him as suddenly as if it were
the lasso of a South American Gaucho. But what could he do? that was
the point. There were one or two things which he could have done,
perhaps, and one or two things which he could not have done if he had
been made of different stuff; but there was nothing more to be done
which Frank Palmer could do. After all, it was better that Madge
should be the child's mother than that it should belong to some
peasant. At least it would be properly educated. As to money, Mrs
Caffyn had told him expressly that she did not want it. That might
be nothing but pride, and he resolved, without very clearly seeing
how, and without troubling himself for the moment as to details, that
Madge should be entirely and handsomely supported by him. Meanwhile
it was of great importance that he should behave in such a manner as
to raise no suspicion. He did not particularly care for some time
after his return from Germany to go out to the musical parties to
which he was constantly invited, but he went as a duty, and wherever
he went he met his charming cousin. They always sang together; they
had easy opportunities of practising together, and Frank, although
nothing definite was said to him, soon found that his family and hers
considered him destined for her. He could not retreat, and there was
no surprise manifested by anybody when it was rumoured that they were
engaged. His story may as well be finished at once. He and Miss
Cecilia Morland were married. A few days before the wedding, when
some legal arrangements and settlements were necessary, Frank made
one last effort to secure an income for Madge, but it failed. Mrs
Caffyn met him by appointment, but he could not persuade her even to
be the bearer of a message to Madge. He then determined to confess
his fears. To his great relief Mrs Caffyn of her own accord assured
him that he never need dread any disturbance or betrayal.