great shock awaited her.
Enid had told her whole story to Maurice, and he had said that, while
the midnight interview between Enid and Mrs. Vane might be kept
secret--as nothing could absolutely be proved respecting Flossy's
sinister designs on Enid's life or health--the confession that Mrs.
Meldreth had made to Enid in her last moments should be made known. Enid
was however still reluctant; and Miss Vane was brought in chiefly to
give her advice, and thus to settle the question.

"Well," she said, looking keenly from one to the other, as she sat
beside Enid's sofa and Mr. Evandale stood before her, "I think I may
safely say that it's not the money that either of you cares about."

"No, indeed!" The voices were unanimous.

"Neither money nor lands matter very much to you. But you"--to
Evandale--"hate the deceit; and you, on the other hand"--turning to
Enid--"are fond of the poor child, who, I must say, has been treated
about as badly as any of you. Isn't that the case?"

"Yes, aunt Leo."

"And what's to be done with him when the truth is made known? Is he to
be made over to his rightful owner--Sabina Meldreth?"

Enid and Mr. Evandale looked at each other.

"No," said the Rector, at length--"certainly not! We would bring him up
ourselves, if need be; and Enid would be to him all that his own mother
and Mrs. Vane have failed to be."

"And he should never suffer," said Enid, with tears in her eyes. "I love
him as if he were my own little brother, aunt Leo. He should have all
the property--as far as I am concerned--if Maurice thought it right."

"Yes, certainly, if the General chose to leave it to him; but the
General ought to know," said Mr. Evandale decisively. "I do not see how
we can be parties to a deception any longer."

"It is a very hard position for all of us," said Miss Vane. "As for me,
I am most seriously concerned for my brother. Have you thought what a
terrible shock you are preparing for him?"

Evandale looked grave and did not answer.

"He is devotedly fond of his wife and of the child. To tell him that
Florence is a liar and a cheat--that she has practised a deception upon
him for many years, in order to gain position and a good income for
herself as the mother of his son--above all, to tell him that the boy is
not his son at all--do you think that he will survive it? Dare you take
upon yourselves the responsibility of shortening his days in that way? I
must confess that in your places I shoul