View source for Trial and Triumph CHAPTER 6.

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<p>The unexpected appearance of Mary Lynn in the family of Mr. Barker, and the prospect of her becoming an inhabitant, disturbed the mind of Emerson very greatly. He did not like it at all. The more so, as from what had reached him, he was satisfied that Mary's refusal to accept his offer of marriage, was based upon a knowledge of some of his<em>overreaching transactions </em>in business.<br><br>
"She must not enter this family," said he, with an emphasis, and a compression of the lips, which marked the earnestness of his purpose. And he quickened his pace as he gave utterance to these words.<br><br>
When Mary informed her mother of what she had done, Mrs. Lynn was both surprised and indignant.<br><br>
"You become a governess, and to Sally Barker's brats!" was her coarse and angry response. "Never! I will work my finger ends off, or starve, first."<br><br>
"She will pay me five hundred dollars a year. Think how comfortable that will make you all," said Mary, in her meek and quiet way.<br><br>
"Don't mention it again. I will not accept of comforts at that cost!" replied Mrs. Lynn, passionately.<br><br>
Mary said no more; but she was none the less determined to avail herself of Mrs. Barker's offer. Her mother had much that was unreasonable to say, but the true-hearted girl entered into no useless argument, content with her own unfaltering conviction that what she purposed doing was right.<br><br>
Some two hours after Mary's return from the house of Mrs. Barker, a letter was left at the door for Mrs. Lynn. On opening it, she found to her astonishment, that it was from Philip Emerson. The contents were these:<br><br>
"My Dear Madam: I have just learned, with painful surprise, that your circumstances have become so reduced that you are in great extremity. To have saved you from this deep depression, would have constituted my greatest pleasure in life, but my ardent attachment to your daughter was not reciprocated, and so this pleasure was denied me. Still, the memory of the past, as well as the impulses of a naturally generous heart, prompt me, in all sincerity, to offer you aid in your present necessities. Please accept, as an earnest of my good will, the enclosed sum of one hundred dollars. Every three months you will receive a like sum; and if that should not be sufficient for your needs, more will cheerfully be added. Your sincere friend, Philip Emerson."<br><br>
With all her <em>pride</em>, Mrs. Lynn had no <em>true delicacy </em>nor independence of feeling. This letter awoke in her mind a thrill of pleasure, and, moreover, created a new hope. It was plain to her that Emerson still entertained a sincere attachment for Mary, and that this was but another advance towards a renewal of his addresses.<br><br>
"Read that!" said Mrs. Lynn, in an excited, exultant voice, placing, as she spoke, the letter of Emerson in her daughter's hand.<br><br>
"Oh, mother! Send it back! Send it back!" exclaimed Mary, as soon as she comprehended the meaning of the letter. "Don't touch a <em>dollar </em>of his money! How could he dare do such a thing!"<br><br>
With sincere astonishment, Mrs. Lynn looked at her daughter.<br><br>
"No, I will <em>not </em>send it back," she replied. — " Do you think I would thus insult his generous spirit? No! Deeply thankful am I for such a friend in this trying extremity."<br><br>
"He is a <em>false </em>friend, mother, and such you will find him," said Mary. "Oh, do not touch his money!"<br><br>
But she mightas well have talked to the <em>wind</em>. The hand of Mrs. Lynn had clutched the timely supply with an eager grasp, and more than the opposition of Mary, was required to make her release her hold.<br><br>
If Mary had in the least wavered in her purpose to become a governess in the situation offered, this circumstance would have determined her. She felt that he had made up his mind to pursue her, and that in Mrs. Barker's family she would be safe from all advances. That her mother should accept his offer of money, touched her with a sense of shame and humiliation; and she resolved that, with her first earnings, she would cancel the debt.<br><br>
"I have checked that move," said Philip Emerson, to himself, as he sealed and despatched the letter to Mrs. Lynn, containing a hundred dollars. His manner expressed exultation, though not unmingled with concern. — "Mary Lynn must not become an inhabitant of Mr. Barker's family. At least not for the present. She might <em>mar </em>everything. Three months more, and she may come and go at her pleasure. I wish I had never known the girl!"<br><br>
"You look sober, Philip," said an intimate friend of Emerson's, on calling in to see him that evening.<br><br>
"Do I?" The young man affected to smile.<br><br>
"You certainly do. Is anything wrong?"<br><br>
"Yes."<br><br>
"Ah! what is it?"<br><br>
"You know what a long siege I've had with Caroline Barker, or, rather, with her family?"<br><br>
"Well?"<br><br>
"Everything has been going on as merry as a marriage bell since the old folks gave up their opposition, and I now stand good with them. In three months I lead Caroline to the altar, and become the happiest man alive."<br><br>
"Anything so terrible in that?" said the friend, smiling.<br><br>
"No, not in that. But there's an <em>enemy </em>in the camp."<br><br>
"Indeed!"<br><br>
"Yes. You remember that affair of mine with Mary Lynn?"<br><br>
"Very well. At least I remember your being once her devoted lover, and that she <em>jilted </em>you. But the why and the wherefore, I never heard."<br><br>
"Curse the hypocritical jade!" said Emerson, with some bitterness of manner. "I'm mad with myself whenever I think what a fool I was to repeat my offer of marriage after she had once refused me. If I had only known her reason!"<br><br>
"What was it?" inquired the friend.<br><br>
"You wouldn't guess for a week."<br><br>
"I shall not waste time with trying," was answered.<br><br>
"She didn't like my way of conducting business."<br><br>
"Indeed!"<br><br>
"No I wasn't <em>green </em>enough for her,"<br><br>
"I don't take your drift."<br><br>
"You remember the two pictures I bought so cheap at a sale in New York, and afterwards sold to Mr. Harding?"<br><br>
"I believe so."<br><br>
"I mentioned it to you at the time. They were sent to auction by someone who didn't know their true value, and I got them for a <em>song</em>. Of course, I was entitled to receive for them what they were really worth."<br><br>
"Certainly you were."<br><br>
"For what cost me <em>twenty </em>dollars — I received <em>five hundred</em>."<br><br>
"A handsome profit, certainly. Bat why should your young lady object to this?"<br><br>
"Of course, I had to throw a little <em>dust </em>in the eyes of Mr. Harding."<br><br>
"Ah!"<br><br>
"I showed him the pictures, after getting them cleaned up a little, as two fine old subjects of the <em>Flemish </em>school, just received from my agent in Paris. An <em>innocent deception</em>, you know, such as is practiced in trade every day."<br><br>
"Yes. Well?"<br><br>
"Somehow or other, this fact, as I have since understood, with a few others of a like character, came to the ears of Mary, and, forthwith, the <em>little saint</em> takes it into her perverse head that I am a <em>monster of iniquity</em>, and so gives me the slip. I've blessed my lucky stars that she did so, a hundred times since. I was fool enough, in a fit of weak generosity, it is true, to renew my offer when I heard of her mother's reverse of fortune; but while she was delaying an answer, in fear of showing too much eagerness to fly into my arms, I prudently withdrew my proposal."<br><br>
"For which, of course, she has never forgiven you."<br><br>
"I presume not. Well, to go on with my story. Today, while I was holding a pleasant conversation with Caroline — who should drop in but Mary Lynn."<br><br>
"Is she a friend of the family?"<br><br>
"No. Mrs. Barker advertised for a governess, and she came to apply for the situation."<br><br>
"Oh!"<br><br>
"I was sitting in the front parlor with Caroline, and heard the whole interview between her and Mrs. Barker."<br><br>
"Did she make an engagement to come?"<br><br>
"Yes. And now you understand why I say that there is an <em>enemy </em>in the camp. Old Barker is as suspicious as he can be; and although he is agreeable enough, I am perfectly aware that he doesn't consider me as the most desirable son-in-law in the world, and that, if he could find a pretty good reason, he would oppose this marriage even now."<br><br>
"Do you think Mary would try to <em>poison </em>the family against you?"<br><br>
"I wouldn't trust her. At any rate it is better, to keep danger at a distance."<br><br>
"True. But how will you accomplish this?"<br><br>
"I've made one move, that I thought at first would be effectual. But in thinking more about it, I feel less confidence in the result. I sent her mother — the family is in extreme poverty — a hundred dollars, with a promise to supply an equal sum quarterly. This will remove the <em>necessity </em>for Mary to go away from home."<br><br>
"What reason did you assign for such an act of extra generosity?"<br><br>
"My interest in the family, and all that."<br><br>
"I don't think it will answer," said the friend. "If Mrs. Lynn has a particle of womanly spirit, she will return the money."<br><br>
"She hasn't done so yet, and some hours have elapsed since I sent it."<br><br>
"You'd better ward off the danger in a more effectual way."<br><br>
"How?"<br><br>
"Don't wait until she sows the <em>seeds of prejudice </em>against you in the family of Mr. Barker. Sow them first against <em>her</em>."<br><br>
"Ah, ha! I didn't think of that!" said Emerson, with a sudden warmth of manner. "You're right. I'll do it!"<br><br>
"You'll have to act guardedly."<br><br>
"I know. Let me see. How shall I proceed?"<br><br>
"If you appear in the matter; the slightest error will ruin you. My advice is, that you say nothing about her."<br><br>
"Then I can do nothing."<br><br>
"That doesn't follow. You can write a <em>letter</em>, can't you?"<br><br>
"A letter?"<br><br>
"Yes; an <em>anonymous letter</em>, warning the family not to put confidence in a certain young lady who has applied for the situation of governess. It will not be necessary to name her. A fair description will suffice. You can insinuate anything against her you please. But I would not go beyond insinuation. That will do your work effectually."<br><br>
"That's it. I wish I'd seen you before I threw my hundred dollars away."<br><br>
"That was a useless waste of money."<br><br>
"Confound the girl! I wish she'd keep out of my way. I don't want to do her any harm. But I can't and won't permit her to step in between me and one of the dearest objects of my life."<br><br>
"You'd be a fool if you did."<br><br>
"Wouldn't I? A great fool!"<br><br>
"What is done in this matter," said the friend, "had better be done quickly. And as I can't help you in the work, I'll leave you to go about it at once. So, good evening, and may all come to a safe outcome."<br><br>
The friend then retired, and Emerson sat himself down seriously to the task of creating a base and ruinous suspicion against the pure-minded Mary Lynn.
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