he came out as the driver pulled up his
team. The occupants of the wagon, which had run a little past the door,
had their backs to him, but seeing a girl about to alight he sprang
forward. Her head was turned away from him at first, but she glanced
round when he offered to assist her; and he forgot what the consequences
of the meeting must be as he looked into the eyes of Muriel Hurst. He was
conscious of an overwhelming delight, which showed itself in his shining
eyes and the warm color that suddenly flushed his face; Gertrude
Jernyngham, standing beside him, read what was in his heart.

The effect on Muriel was as marked. He had seized her hand and as she was
standing precariously poised, ready to descend, he swung her down. Then
she recoiled from him, startled, but with strong relief in her
expression.

"Cyril!" she cried in a strained voice. "Why didn't you write and tell us
that it was all a mistake? We heard that you were dead!"

Then Prescott remembered and his heart sank, but he strove to gather his
courage, for there was a crisis to be faced. He stood silent, with one
hand clenched tight, while Gertrude watched him with hard, unwavering
eyes. Jernyngham, however, had heard Muriel's startled exclamation and
hurried toward her.

"What's this?" he asked harshly. "You called my son's name!"

The girl looked at Prescott; troubled and surprised by the confused
emotions his face betrayed. There was obviously something wrong, but she
could not imagine what it was.

"Yes," she said, "I called him Cyril. Why shouldn't I?"

Colston and his wife joined the group, while the driver looked on from
the wagon and the Leslies from the stoop. Prescott and the girl stood a
little distance apart and Muriel was sensible of a nervous shiver. When
Prescott had first held up his hand to her, she had seen his keen
pleasure and her heart had responded to it; now, however, she was filled
with dismay.

Jernyngham answered her in curt, stern tones:

"There's one very good reason--this is not my son!"

"Not Cyril!" Colston broke in. "But he made us believe he was; he's the
man we stayed with!" He made a puzzled gesture. "I can't understand the
thing."

"Nor I," replied Jernyngham. "Is this the man you wrote to us about?"

"Of course!" said Colston stupidly. "I thought he was Cyril; so did we
all. We had no cause to doubt it."

Jernyngham turned in fury to the Leslies.

"Who is the fellow?" he demanded.

Prescott braced him