e. What do you know of that
affair?"

"Listen, and I will tell you," and leaning towards him, she whispered
a few words in his ears.

Only a few words, but Harold Mainwaring started as from a shock,
while his face grew as pale as her own, and it was with difficulty
he could control his voice, as he demanded in quick, excited tones,--

"Do you know what you are saying? Are you speaking the truth?"

"Yes, before Heaven, it is the truth, and the horror of it has
haunted me day and night; the thought of it has driven me nearly
mad, but I dared not breathe it to any living human being."

"You have told no one else what you have just told me?"

"No, I dared not."

He asked a few more questions which she answered, and from her
manner he was convinced that she spoke the truth. Then he sat for
a moment silent, his head bowed, his eyes covered, lost in thought,
while strangely commingled emotions surged within his breast.

At last she broke the silence. "It will help you--what I have
told you--will it not?"

"It is of inestimable value to me," he answered, but instead of
exultation, there was a strange sadness in his voice.

"You will let me help you, and you will be a son to me, will you
not?"

He looked at her with an expression of mingled pity and bitterness,
and then, without replying, lifted her gently but firmly and
reseated her, while he himself remained standing at a little
distance. She watched him anxiously.

"Harold," at last she ventured, "think what I have suffered, and
do not refuse my one prayer."

"I can see that you have suffered," he answered, gently; "and, as I
have told you, I will help you pecuniarily and will befriend you,
only do not ask me that which I cannot give."

"I ask nothing more," she exclaimed, passionately, rising to her
feet, "than that you be a son to me, and I will accept nothing less."

"I am sorry to hear you say that," he replied, "for you are only
unnecessarily depriving yourself of many benefits that might be
yours. I would provide a home for you where you would be unknown,
and means that you could spend the remainder of your life in
comfort."

"What would I care for any home or wealth that you might provide
for me," she demanded, angrily, "if you yourself would not
acknowledge me as your mother! I will accept nothing from you
under such conditions."

"Then we may as well end this conference," he replied, calmly, "for
I hold my father in too deep love and re