slowly and with an earnestness that
bewildered all her hearers--except, perhaps, Josie O'Gorman. And then
she left the room.

The little group scarcely moved or spoke.

It seemed an age to them, yet it was only a few moments, when Mary
Louise came back, leading by the hand a tall, handsome gentleman who
bore in every feature, in every movement, the mark of good birth,
culture, and refinement, and in a voice that trembled with, nervous
excitement the girl announced:

"This is Jason Jones--a California artist--the man who married
Antoinette Seaver. He is Alora's father. And the other--the other----"

"Why, the other was a fraud, of course," exclaimed Josie.

CHAPTER XXVI
WHAT MARY LOUISE ACCOMPLISHED

I am quite sure it is unnecessary to relate in detail the scene that
followed Mary Louise's introduction or the excited inquiries and
explanations which naturally ensued. To those present the scene was
intensely dramatic and never to be forgotten, but such a meeting
between father and daughter is considered too sacred to be described
here.

Mary Louise's intuition had not played her false. She had found at the
Congress Hotel another Jason Jones, far different from the one she had
known, and a few questions elicited the fact that he was indeed the
father of Alora. So, as briefly as she could, she told him how another
man had usurped his place and seized all of Alora's income, at the same
time willfully depriving the girl of such comforts and accomplishments
as one in her position should enjoy.

"And to think," she added indignantly, "that he is not Jason Jones at
all!"

"I believe you are mistaken there," replied the artist thoughtfully.
"Jason is a family name, derived from one of our most eminent
ancestors, and in my generation it is also borne, I have learned, by
one of my second cousins, a Jason Jones who is also a painter and
aspires to fame as an artist. I have never met the man, but his
indifferently executed canvases, offered for sale under our common
name, formerly caused me considerable annoyance and perhaps interfered
with my career. But of late I have not heard of this Jason Jones, for
soon after my separation from my wife I went to Southern California and
located in a little bungalow hidden in a wild canyon of the Santa
Monica mountains. There I have secluded myself for years, determined to
do some really good work before I returned East to prove my ability.
Some time after Antoinette died I saw