The Two Story Mittens and the Little Play Mittens Part 10

MARY (_starting up_). Oh, no! no! Your trial may all be very fine, but I will not lend myself to it. No, sir. We are not rich, but we have always been honest, and I will not have anybody suppose for a moment that I could have committed such a dishonorable, such an unnatural act. Say that Morris is not my son? If I should join in such a trick, my husband would hate and despise me, and rightly too.

MR. S. But, nurse, you forget. It is only supposing.

MARY. Suppose as much as you please, sir; even the suspicion of such a plot would blacken my name forever. Oh! would any woman deny her own child?

MRS. L. Listen to me, Mary. I love Edward as much as you do Morris. Do you think I would abandon my child or disgrace you? Far from despising you, I shall take care to let everybody know the sacrifice you are making for my son's sake; and every one will praise you for helping me, and believe that love for Edward has alone induced you to consent to this plan. If he should grow up to be a man with such selfish, cruel ways, it will break my heart. I should be in my grave before many years, killed by the misconduct of my only child. I have but one objection to what we are about to do. We shall practise a deception.

MARY (_weeping_). Oh, ma'am, and my son, my poor little Morris, he too must be deceived; he cannot be in the secret.

MRS. L. I will try to make him happy. I will treat him like my own child. Remember it is only for a week or two, perhaps only for a day or two.

MARY. Oh yes, ma'am, I know you will be kind; but suppose in that week, your fine house, your gay clothes, your grand dinners and suppers should turn his head, and ruin his loving heart for his parents. If he should return to us, despising our humble life,--oh! I can't bear it! My child would be worse than lost to me!

MRS. L. Fear nothing, Mary. Morris is an excellent boy, and not so easily spoiled. I promise you, that I will so arrange matters, that he shall be only too glad to come back to you, and be Morris again.

MARY (_coming to Mrs. L. and taking her hand_). Are you sure? will you solemnly promise this?

MRS. L. (_raising her hand_). I solemnly promise.

MARY (_still weeping_). Well, then, try your trick; but, oh! do not let it last too long.

MRS. L. (_rings the bell; the servant appears_). Call Master Edward and Morris here.

_Enter_ EDWARD _and_ MORRIS.

EDWARD. Dear mamma, do you want me?

MRS. L. I told you to order some luncheon for your nurse, and your brother.

EDWARD. Well, I thought when they were ready, they could go into the kitchen.

MRS. L. (_covering her face_). Oh! Edward--

EDWARD. What is the matter, dear mamma?

MRS. L. (_aside_). Oh! how shall I say it! (_Aloud._) Do not give me that sweet t.i.tle any more.

EDWARD. What? Mamma, what do you mean?

MRS. L. Edward, I am about to tell you something that will pierce your heart; turn your dear face away from me. You--_you are not my child_.

EDWARD (_turning deadly pale_). Not your child?

MR. S. No, sir; and perhaps what seems to be so great a misfortune now coming upon you, may prove a blessing in disguise.

EDWARD (_clasping his hands convulsively together_). Not your child?

MR. S. Yes; through love and ambition for their own son, Mary and her husband were weak enough to change you for the son of Mr. Langdon; to change the name and dress of the two infants, was all that was necessary.

MRS. L. And now, Mary, repenting of this, has made me a confession.

Morris is my son and you are hers.

EDWARD. You are _not_ my mother?

MRS. L. No, Edward; but take heart. I shall still love you and take care of you. Come, Morris; come, my real son, do not cry; come to me.

MORRIS (_rushing into Mary's arms_). Oh, no! no! Mr. Edward has been your son for so long; keep him, keep him. I cannot leave my mother, I must go home with her (_bursting into tears_).

MARY. But, Morris, he is my son.

MORRIS. Oh no, dear mother, he will never love you as I do! do not drive me from you! do not turn your face away! kiss me, mother, and tell me you will take me away with you. Oh, I see! I must believe it (_wringing his hands with grief_).

MRS. L. Morris, you are ungrateful! Do you not see what a splendid change this is for you?

MORRIS. Please excuse me, ma'am; I honor and respect you; but my mother, who nursed me, and has taken care of me all these years, I _love_ her.

Edward is much handsomer, and far more genteel than I. Oh! keep him and let me go with my mother!--(_clasps his hands and kneels, while large tears roll down his cheeks_).

MRS. L. I order you to come with me. I _will_ have it!

MR. S. Remember, she is your mother.

MORRIS (_weeping bitterly_). Oh, how miserable I am!

[_They go out._

EDWARD (_who now thinks himself_ MORRIS, _remains_).

MARY. Well, Morris; that's your name now, you know--what's the matter?

are you sorry to have me for a mother? I shall have to sleep with one eye open, to keep you out of mischief; but if you are good and work hard, though I can't give you such fine clothes, I will love you as much as Mrs. Langdon did.

EDWARD (_his lips quivering_). Oh! she is no longer my mother!

MARY. Well, am I not as good? I don't live in such a fine house, crammed full of gimcracks; but I've got a dictionary that you can study in, and big Peter, your father, shall hang a great switch over the mantelpiece, to remind you that he won't stand any nonsense, or idleness, from you.

Dear me! how glad he will be to see you! Come, run with a hop, skip, and jump, to the stable, and harness up old Whitenose: it's high time we were off.

EDWARD (_sighing_). Yes, mother.

MARY. But first bid Mr. Sherwood good-by, and the rest. Thank them all for their kindness to you; wait here a moment, till I come back.

[_Exit._

MR. S. Well, Edward, or Morris I should say, you see that nothing is sure in this world: and I cannot but think that this reverse will do you good. You treated every one except your mother--as you supposed Mrs.

Langdon was--with harshness, insult, and insolence: perhaps now you will learn, in the very strongest manner, the exact meaning and intention of the Golden Rule.

EDWARD. Oh, how unhappy I am! The very servants are more fortunate! They at least can live with Mrs. Langdon.

MR. S. You despised and insulted your own mother; you struck your brother; suppose he in return should--

EDWARD (_weeping_). Oh stop, I beg, Mr. Sherwood!