eason to doubt her word, but of course for
everybody's sake I must verify her statement as far as I can. My son--a
lad of fifteen--is now in London, and so is the French _bonne_--Zelie
Ronchicourt--who originally lived with us in Paris, and was with Anna at
the time of her confinement. You will feel for me when you know that he
is apparently deaf and dumb. At any rate he has never spoken, and the
brain makes no response. Anna speaks of an injury at birth. There might
possibly be an operation. But of all this I shall know more presently.
The boy, of course, is mine henceforth--whatever happens.

"With what mingled feelings I set out to-morrow, you can imagine. I feel
no bitterness towards the unhappy soul who has come back so suddenly into
my life. Except so far as the boy is concerned--(_that_ I feel
cruelly!)--I have not much right--For I was not blameless towards her in
the old days. She had reasons--though not of the ordinary kind--for the
frantic jealousy which carried her away from me. I shall do all I can for
her; but if she gets through this illness, there will be a divorce in
proper form.

"For me, in any case, it is the end of years of miserable
uncertainty--of a semi-deception I could not escape--and of a moral
loneliness I cannot describe. I must have often puzzled you and many
others of my friends. Well, you have the key now. I can and will speak
freely when we meet again.

"According to present plans, I bring the boy back to-morrow. Ramsay is to
find me a specially trained nurse and will keep him under his own
observation for a time. We may also have a specialist down at once.

"I shall of course hurry back as soon as I can--Anna's state is
critical--

"Yours ever effectionately,

"BUNTINGFORD."

"P.S.--I don't know much about the domestic conditions in the Ramsays'
house. Ramsay I have every confidence in. He has always seemed to me a
very clever and a very nice fellow. And I imagine Mrs. Ramsay is a
competent woman."

"She isn't!" said Cynthia, suddenly springing up in bed. "She is an
incompetent goose! As for looking after that poor child and his
nurse--properly--she couldn't!"

Quite another plan shaped itself in her mind. But she did not as yet
communicate it to Georgina.

After breakfast she loaded her little pony carriage with all the invalid
necessaries she had promised Miss Alcott, and drove them over to the
Rectory. Alcott saw her arrival from his study, and came out, his finger
on h