My Mothers Rival

My Mother's Rival

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Title: My Mother's Rival Everyday Life Library No. 4
Author: Charlotte M. Braeme
Release Date: February 26, 2005 [EBook #15181]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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MOTHER'S RIVAL ***

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EVERYDAY LIFE LIBRARY No. 4 Published by EVERYDAY LIFE,
Chicago
[Illustration]
MY MOTHER'S RIVAL
By CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME
Author of "Dora Thorne," "The Belle of Lynn," "The Mystery of
Colde Fell," "Madolin's Lover," "Coralie," Etc., Etc.

CHAPTER I.

I have often wondered if the world ever thinks of what becomes of the
children of great criminals who expiate their crime on the scaffold. Are
they taken away and brought up somewhere in ignorance of who or
what they are? Does some kind relative step forward always bring them
up under another name?
There is great criminal trial, and we hear that the man condemned to
death leaves two daughters and a son--what becomes of them can any
one living say? Who meets them in after life? Has any young man ever
been pointed out to you as the son of Mr. So-and-so, the murderer? Has
any young woman been pointed out to you as his daughter?
It is not long since all England was interested in the trial of a so-called
gentleman for murder. He was found guilty, condemned and executed.
At the time of the trial all the papers spoke of his little son--a
fair-haired little lad, who was as unconscious of all that happened as a
little babe. I have often wondered what became of him. Does he hear
his father's name? Do those with whom he lives know him for a
murderer's son? If he goes wooing any fair-faced girl, will she be afraid
of marrying him lest, in the coming years, she may suffer the same fate
his mother did? Does that same son, when he reads of criminals and
scaffolds, wince, and shudder, and grow sick at heart?
And the daughters, do they grow old and die before their time? Do they
hide themselves under false names in silent places, dreading lest the
world should know them? Does any man ever woo them? Are they ever
happy wives and mothers?
I have thought much on this subject, because I, who write this story,
seem to the world one of the most commonplace people in it, and yet I
have lived, from the time I was a child, in the midst of a tragedy dark as
any that ever saddened this fair land.
No one knows it, no one guesses it. People talk of troubles, of
romances, of sad stories and painful histories before me, but no one
ever guessed that I have known perhaps the saddest of all. My heart
learned to ache as the first lesson it learned in life.

When I think of those unhappy children who go about the world with
so dark a secret locked in their hearts, I think of myself, and what I hold
locked in my heart.
Read for yourself, dear reader, and tell me if you think there have been
many fates in this world harder than mine.
My Name is Laura Tayne, and my home Tayne Abbey, in the grand old
County of Kent. The Taynes were of good family, not very ancient--the
baronetcy is quite a modern one, dating from George the First--but
Tayne Abbey is one of the grandest old buildings in England.
Whenever I looked at it I thought of those beautiful, picturesque,
haunted houses that one sees in Christmas annuals, with Christmas
lights shining from the great windows. I am sorry to say that I know
very little of architecture. I could not describe Tayne Abbey; it was a
dark, picturesque, massive building; the tall towers were covered with
ivy, the large windows were wreathed with flowers of every hue. In
some parts of sweet, sunny Kent the flowers grow as though they were
in a huge hothouse; they did so at Tayne Abbey, for the front stood to
the west, and there were years when it seemed to be nothing but
summer.
The great oriel windows--the deep bay windows, large as small
rooms--the carved oaken panels, the finely painted ceilings, the broad
corridors, the beautiful suites of rooms--all so bright, light and
lofty--the old-fashioned porch and the entrance hall, the grand sweep of
terraces one after another, the gardens, the grounds, the park, were all