what you were so nervous about."

She flushed and laughed and felt that she had escaped a great danger.

Then he and the Major set out together, meeting Mr. Ledwith at the
school. The doctor went upstairs. Lilian met him with anxious eyes.

"Yes, there has been a great change. She has gone more rapidly than I
thought. Can she speak?"

"Hardly. Now and then a word. Yet she understands all that I say to
her," Lilian returned, gravely. "But she was quite restless during the
night."

He nodded. "You see, my dear Miss Boyd--you will be that until you take
your new name, the confession has no signature. It might never be
called in question but sometimes, years afterward, in the various
changes of property, it might be necessary to establish a legal
identity. Can you make her understand this? And you can attest most of
her story. I will call up Mr. Ledwith. And your father is most desirous
of being present. He will make no trouble."

She went out in the hall to meet him.

"My dear," he said, "I am more reasonable than I was yesterday. Your
lovely mother has placed some views in a different light, and she is
most glad that you have never lacked for a fervent love and care. And we
both forgive her."

"Oh, thank you for that. Though Mrs. Barrington advises that she had
better not be told of the discovery. You see she is so tranquil now,
knowing that I am provided for."

Then they entered the room. Mrs. Boyd scarcely noticed them, but her
eyes questioned Lilian, who began to explain, holding the poor hand in
hers. Mrs. Boyd seemed confused at first, then she said with some
difficulty--"Yes, yes."

Lilian and Miss Arran pillowed her up in a sitting posture and placed
the material on a portable desk.

"It is just to sign your name."

She seemed to listen as Mr. Ledwith read the affadavit, and nodded,
with her eyes on Lilian, who put the pen in her hand, but she could not
clasp it.

"I think you will have to guide it. She does not understand."

Lilian took the poor shaking hand in hers, and the sick woman looked up
into her face and smiled.

It was written, but even Lilian's hand shook a little. "Emma Eliza
Boyd."

"That is all, dear," said the girl.

She made a great effort to articulate, and her eyes had a frightened
look in them. "You--will not--go?"

"Oh, no, no," returned Lilian, with a kiss.

"Tired--tired," she gasped.

They laid her down and gave her a spoonful of stimulant but she only
swallowed a