ed. 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 title 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,