too, had gathered in every fact, but he
had reached a widely different conclusion from what poor Densie had.

"Answer her," he said, gravely, as the convict did not reply. "Tell her
if Adah be her child, or--'Lina--which?"

Had a clap of thunder cleft the air around her, 'Lina could not have
started up sooner than she did. The convict took his eyes away from her,
pitying her so much, while Densie's bony hand was raised as if to thrust
her off, and Densie's voice exclaimed: "Not this, not this. She despises
me, a white nigger. I will not be her mother. The other one--Densie, I
named her--she is mine--"

The convict shook his head. "No, Densie, not Adah, I kept her, my lawful
child, and sent the other back. It was a bold move, and I wonder it was
not questioned, but Adaline's eyes were not so black then as they are
now, and though six months older than the other, she was small for her
age, and cannot now be so tall as Adah. The mark, too, must have
strengthened the deception, as I knew it would, and eighteen months
sometimes changes a child materially; so Eliza took it for granted that
the girl she received as Adaline, and whose real name was Densie, was
her own; but Adah Hastings is her daughter and Hugh's half-sister, while
this young woman is--the child of myself and Densie Densmore!"

Alice, Anna, and the doctor looked aghast, while Mrs. Worthington
murmured audibly: "Adah, Adah, darling Adah, she always seemed near to
me; and Willie, precious Willie--oh, I want them here now!"

One mother had claimed her own, but alas, the fond cry of welcome to
sweet Adah Hastings was a death knell to 'Lina, for it seemed to shut
her out of that gentle woman's heart. There was no place for her, and in
her terrible desolation she stood alone, her eyes wandering wistfully
from one to another, but turning very quickly when they fell on the
white-haired Densie, her mother. She would not have it so; she could not
own the woman she had affected to despise, that servant for her mother,
that villain for her father, and worse--oh, infinitely worse than
all--she had no right to be born! A child of sin and shame, disgraced,
disowned, forsaken. It was a terrible blow, and the proud girl staggered
beneath it.

"Will no one speak to me?" she said, at last; "no one break this
dreadful silence? Has everybody forsaken me? Do you all loathe and hate
the offspring of such parents? Won't somebody pity and care for me?"

"Yes, 'Lina," and Hugh--t