rible, abominable
insinuations against me, your poor sister! But Rose Rollstone always
hated me!'

'She does not know what she is saying,' sighed Rose; and, with much
delicacy, she moved away.

'Let me go, Herbert!' cried Ida, as she felt his grip on her hand.

'Not I, Ida--till you have answered me! Is this so--that Michael is not
drowned, but carried off by that woman?' demanded Herbert, holding her
fast and looking at her with manly gravity, not devoid of horror.

'He is a horrid little impostor, palmed off to keep you out of the title
and everything! That's why I did it!' sobbed Ida, trying to wrench
herself away.

'Oh, you did it, did you? You confess that! And what have you done with
him?'

'I tell you he is no Morton at all--just the nurse-woman's child, taken
to spite you. I found it all out at--what's its name?--Botzen; only ma
would not be convinced.'

'I should suppose not! To think that my uncle and aunt would do such a
thing--why, I don't know whether it is not worse than stealing the
child!'

'Herbert! Herbert! do you want to bring your sister to jail, talking in
that way?'

'It is no more than you deserve. I _would_ bring you there if it is the
only way to get back the child! I do not know what is bad enough for
you. My poor uncle and aunt! To have brought such misery on them!' He
clenched his hands as he spoke.

'Everybody said she didn't mind--didn't ask questions, didn't cry, didn't
go on a bit like his real mother.'

'She could not, or it might have been the death of my uncle. Bertha
wrote it all to me; but you--you would never understand. Ida, I can't
believe that you, my sister, could have done such an awfully wicked
thing!'

'I wouldn't, only I was sure he was not--'

'No more of that stuff!' said Herbert. 'You don't know what they are.'

'I do. So strict--not a bit like a mother.'

'If our mother had been like them, you might not have been such a
senseless monster,' said Herbert, pausing for a word. 'Come, now; tell
me what you have done with him, or I shall have to set on the police.'

'Oh, Herbert, how can you be so cruel?'

'It is not I that am cruel! Come, speak out! Did you bribe her with
your teapot? Ah! I see: what has she done with him?'

He gripped her arm almost as he used to torture her when they were
children, and insisted again that either she must tell him the whole
truth or he should set the police on the track.

'You wouldn't,' she sai