here have you been? You are top total a stranger here to
venture out alone, and I beg that you will not repeat the imprudence.
I have been really uneasy about your mysterious absence."

"Uncle Orme, I wanted to see my father, and I went to his home."

She threw her hat upon the sofa, and sighed heavily.

"My dear child, Minnie will never forgive your premature disclosure!"

"I made none, because he was not at home. Oh, uncle, I saw something
that made my heart turn sick with pity. I saw that poor little
deformed girl, Maud Laurance, and it seems to me her haggard face,
her utter wretchedness and helplessness would melt a heart of steel!
I longed to take the poor forlorn creature in my arms, and cry over
her; and I tell you, Uncle Orme, I will not be a party to her ruin
and disgrace! I will not, I will not! I am strong and healthy, and
God has given me many talents, and raised up dear friends, you uncle,
the dearest of all, after mother; but what has that unfortunate
cripple? Nothing but her father (for she has been deserted by her
mother), and only her father's name. Do you think I could see her
beggared, reduced to poverty that really pinched, in order that I
might usurp her place as the Laurance heiress? Never."

"My dear girl, the usurpation is on their part, not yours. The name
and inheritance is lawfully yours, and the attainment of these rights
for you has sustained poor Minnie through her sad, arduous career."

"Abstract right is not the only thing to be considered at such a
juncture as this. Suppose I could change places with that poor little
deformed creature, would you not think it cruel, nay wicked, to turn
me all helpless and forlorn out of a comfortable home, into the cold
world of want, a nameless waif. Uncle, I know what it is to be
fatherless and nameless! All of that bitterness and humiliation has
been mine for years, but now that my heart is at rest concerning my
parentage, now that _I_ know there is no blemish on mother's past
record, I care little for what the world may think, and much, much
more, what that poor girl would suffer. To-day, when I looked at her
useless feet and shrunken hands and deep hollow eyes, I seemed to
hear a voice from far Judean hills: '_Bear ye one another's
burdens_;' and, Uncle Orme, I am willing to bear Maud's burden to the
end of my life. My shoulders have become accustomed to the load they
have carried for over seventeen years, and I will not shift it to
poor Maud'