ou will make out the
paper and I will swear before God that it is true! Only"--turning to the
ladies--"do not tell Olive; she will never believe it. It will break her
heart! It"--

A servant came and spoke privately to Madame Thompson, who rose quickly
and went to the hall Madame Delphine continued, rising unconsciously:

"You see, I have had her with me from a baby. She knows no better. He
brought her to me only two months old. Her mother had died in the ship,
coming out here. He did not come straight from home here. His people
never knew he was married!"

The speaker looked around suddenly with a startled glance. There was a
noise of excited speaking in the hall.

"It is not true, Madame Thompson!" cried a girl's voice.

Madame Delphine's look became one of wildest distress and alarm, and she
opened her lips in a vain attempt to utter some request, when Olive
appeared a moment in the door, and then flew into her arms.

"My mother! my mother! my mother!"

Madame Thompson, with tears in her eyes, tenderly drew them apart and
let Madame Delphine down into her chair, while Olive threw herself upon
her knees, continuing to cry:

"Oh, my mother! Say you are my mother!"

Madame Delphine looked an instant into the upturned face, and then
turned her own away, with a long, low cry of pain, looked again, and
laying both hands upon the suppliant's head, said:

"_Oh, chere piti a moin, to pa' ma fie_!"--Oh, my darling little one,
you are not my daughter!--Her eyes closed, and her head sank back; the
two gentlemen sprang to her assistance, and laid her upon a sofa
unconscious.

When they brought her to herself, Olive was kneeling at her head
silently weeping.

"_Maman, chere maman_!" said the girl softly, kissing her lips.

"_Ma courri c'ez moin_"--I will go home--said the mother, drearily.

"You will go home with me," said Madame Varrillat, with great kindness
of manner--"just across the street here; I will take care of you till
you feel better. And Olive will stay here with Madame Thompson. You will
be only the width of the street apart."

But Madame Delphine would go nowhere but to her home. Olive she would
not allow to go with her. Then they wanted to send a servant or two to
sleep in the house with her for aid and protection; but all she would
accept was the transient service of a messenger to invite two of her
kinspeople--man and wife--to come and make their dwelling with her.

In course of time these two-