other time, miss! See,
miss, how cold and stern he looks! another time, miss! (Struggling.) For
God's sake, miss, let me go!

Miss Mary. No! This mystery must be cleared up now, before I enter HIS
house,--before I accept the charge of this--

Starbottle (interrupting, and crossing before MISS MARY). A moment--a
single moment, miss. (To OAKHURST.) Mr. Morton, you will pardon the
exuberance, and perhaps, under the circumstances, somewhat natural
impulsiveness, of the--er--sex, for which I am perhaps responsible; I
may say--er--personally, sir,--personally responsible--

Oakhurst (coldly). Go on, sir.

Starbottle. The lady on my right is--er--the niece of your father,--your
cousin. The lady on my left, engaged in soothing the--er--bashful
timidity of infancy, is--er--that is--er--claims to be, the mother of
the child of Alexander Morton.

Oakhurst (calmly). She is right.

Miss Mary (rushing forward). Then you are--

Oakhurst (gently restraining her). You have another question to ask: you
hesitate: let me ask it. (Crossing to the DUCHESS.) You have heard my
answer. Madam, are you the legal wife of Alexander Morton?

The Duchess (sinking upon her knees, and dropping her face in her
hands). No!

Oakhurst. Enough: I will take the child. Pardon me, Miss Morris, but you
have heard enough to know that your mission is accomplished, but what
else passes between this woman and myself becomes no stranger to hear.
(Motions toward room L.)

Miss Mary (aside). It is HIS son. I am satisfied (going). Come, colonel.

[Exeunt into room L., STARBOTTLE and MISS MARY.

The Duchess (crossing to OAKHURST, and falling at his feet). Forgive me,
Jack, forgive me! It was no fault of mine. I did not know that you were
here. I did not know that you had taken his name!

Oakhurst. Hush--on your life!

The Duchess. Hear me, Jack! I was anxious only for a home for my child.
I came to HER--the schoolmistress of Red Gulch--for aid. I told her the
name of my boy's father. She--she brought me here. Oh, forgive me, Jack!
I have offended you!

Oakhurst. How can I believe you? You have deceived HIM. You have
deceived me. Listen! When I said, a moment ago, you were not the wife
of Alexander Morton, it was because I knew that your first husband--the
Australian convict Pritchard--was still living; that you had deceived
Sandy Morton as you had deceived me. That was why I left you. Tell me,
have you deceived me also about him, as you did about the