er.

"It all comes about from Peter's bein' a stubborn man, an' he'll no
change the opeenion he's held for three years wi'oot a struggle. Here
comes his boy back an' says, 'I'm Peter Junior, and yer son.' An' his
feyther says till him, 'Ye're no my son, for my son was murder't--an'
ye're Richard Kildene wha' murder't him.' And noo, it's for ye to go
home, Hester, an' bring Peter to his senses, and show him the truth. A
mither knows her ain boy, an' if it's Peter Junior, it's Peter Junior,
and Richard Kildene's died."

"I tell ye he's no dead!" cried Jean, springing to her feet.

"Hush, child. He maun be dead, for ain of them's dead, and this is
Peter Junior."

"Read it again, Aunt Ellen," said Hester, wearily. "You'll see that
the Elder brings a fearful charge against Richard. He thinks Richard
is making a false claim that he is--Peter--my boy."

Jean sat back in her chair crying silently and shrinking into herself
as if she were afraid to say more, and Ellen went on. "Listen, now,
what yer frien' says. 'The Elder is wrong, for Bertrand'--that's her
husband, I'm thinkin'--?"

"Yes."

"'Bertrand and Betty,--' Who's Betty, noo?"

"Betty is their daughter. She was to--have--married my son."

"Good. So she would know her lover. 'Betty and I have seen him,' she
says, 'and have talked with him, and we know he is Peter Junior,' she
says. 'Richard Kildene has disappeared,' she says, 'and yet we know
he is living somewhere and he must be found. We fear the Elder will
not withdraw the charge until Richard is located'--An' that will be
like Peter, too--'and meanwhile your son Peter will have to lie in
jail, where he is now, unless you can clear matters up here by coming
home and identifying him, and that you can surely do.'--An' that's all
vera weel. There's neathin' to go distraught over in the like o' that.
An' here she says, 'He's a noble, fine-looking man, and you'll be
proud of him when you see him.' Oh, 'tis a fine letter, an' it's Peter
wi' his stubbornness has been makin' a boggle o' things. If I were na
lame, I'd go back wi' ye an' gie Peter a piece o' my mind."

"An' I'll locate Richard for ye!" cried Jean, rising to her feet and
wiping away the fast-falling tears, laughing and weeping all in the
same moment. "Whish't, Ellen, it's ye'rsel' that kens neathin' aboot
it, an' I'll tell ye the truth the noo--that I've kept to mysel' this
lang time till my conscience has nigh whupped me intil my grave."

"Tak' a