n't
feel she was mine and Jack's. She was like some changeling in an old
witch tale. I couldn't bear it! I knew that I'd rather die than have
Jack see that wicked elf after all his hopes. I told the doctor so. I
threatened to kill myself. I don't know if I meant it. But he thought I
did. He was a young man. I frightened him. While he was trying to
comfort me an idea flashed into my head. It seemed to shoot in, like an
arrow. I begged the doctor to find me a boy baby whose mother would take
the girl and a lot of money. I said I would give him ten thousand
dollars for himself, too, if he could manage it secretly, so no one but
he and Anne Wickham and I need ever know. At first he kept exclaiming,
and wouldn't listen. But I cried, and partly by working on his feelings
and partly with the bribe that was a fortune to such a man, I persuaded
him. Anne helped. She would have done anything for me. And she knew the
Dorans. She knew Jack could never feel the same to me, as the mother of
that impish girl.

"The doctor knew about a young woman who had just had a child--a boy.
He'd helped bring it into the world a night or two before. She was the
wife of a private soldier who'd been ordered off to Algeria somewhere.
They'd been married secretly. If she had money she would have followed
him. But they were very poor. The man was mixed up with the romance of
the de la Tours; he belonged to the branch of the family that had gone
down. They were called Delatour, but every one knew their history. The
doctor thought the girl would do anything for the money I'd offer--and
to get to Algeria. He managed the whole thing for me, and certified that
my child was a boy. He even went to Paris and sold my pearls and a
diamond tiara and necklace, and lots of other things, worth ever so many
thousands more than I'd promised to pay him and Madame Delatour. You
see, I hadn't any great sums of money by me, so I was forced to sell
things. And afterward I had to pretend that my jewels were stolen from a
train while we were in the dining-car; otherwise Jack would have
wondered why I never wore them. I was thankful the night you were
brought to me. I hadn't any remorse then, about sending the other baby
away. I told you she didn't seem mine. She seemed hardly human. But I
was frightened because you were so dark. You had quantities of black
hair. I didn't even try to love you. Only I felt you were very valuable.
So did Anne. And when Jack came hurrying back t