"I should say there is," was the emphatic reply. "Donaster has been arrested for forgery."

Mrs. Randall gave a startled cry, and leaned excitedly forward.

"Arrested!" she exclaimed. "How terrible!"

"Yes, it certainly is," Randall replied, as he rapidly scanned the article. "He is not the son of Lord Donaster, for there is no such person by that name. That fellow is an impostor, and his father is a shoemaker in the United States. His real name, so this paper says, is William Lukie, and the police have been on his tracks for some time for forging the names of several prominent business men. So that's the end of that rascal, and I'm not sorry."

Mr. Randall put down the paper, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Mrs. Hampton had let her sewing drop upon her lap, and her eyes were fixed full upon the invalid's face. She was thinking rapidly, and her heart beat fast, for she had made up her mind that the great revelation must be made at all cost.

"So your daughter, then, will no longer be troubled with that man," she remarked as casually as possible.

"Certainly not," Randall replied. "It has been a very narrow escape."

"And you wanted to force her to marry him last fall, did you not?"

"We did, we did, fools that we were."

"Then Jess was right in taking matters into her own hands."

"She really was; I see it now. That girl has a great deal of common sense."

"I suppose you will let her choose for herself after this?"

"The man she wishes to marry, do you mean? H'm, I guess she has chosen already, from every appearance. I'm satisfied, if you are. I certainly would like to have John as a son. He would be a great help to me in my business. I wish I could say the same about my own boys."

"And if they should marry, you would get another son, while I should get a daughter. It would be a satisfactory arrangement on both sides, would it not?"

"It certainly would. Nothing would please me better."

Randall was greatly surprised as Mrs. Hampton rose suddenly to her feet and stood before him. She was trembling violently, and she laid her hand upon the table for support.

"What is the matter?" he asked. "Are you sick?"

"No, no, I am not sick. But I want to tell you something--a confession. Listen. John is your own real son, and Jess is my daughter. There, now you know the truth."

A startled cry from Mrs. Randall followed this announcement, which caused Mrs. Hampton to wheel suddenly around. Mrs. Randall had sprung to her feet, and was standing before her.

"What did you say?" she demanded. "That John is our son? Is it true?

Tell me, quick."

"Yes, it is true," Mrs. Hampton replied. "John is your son, and Jess is my daughter."

For an instant it seemed as if Mrs. Randall would fall to the ground, so overcome was she at this startling announcement. She stared at Mrs.

Hampton as if she had not heard aright. Then she placed her hand to her forehead and sank upon the ground, while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Mr. Randall gazed at the two women in amazement. He looked first at one and then at the other.

"What is the meaning of all this?" he demanded. "John my son, and Jess your daughter! For G.o.d's sake, explain!"

With face as white as death, in a low voice, broken with emotion, Mrs.

Hampton revealed to the astounded man the entire story of the exchange of the two babies in the hospital almost twenty years before. When she had finished she stood silently before Randall, waiting for his reply.

What would his answer be? she asked herself. Never for an instant had he taken his eyes from her face as she related the pathetic story of motherly shame. Would he now scorn her and his wife, and spurn them from him as unworthy of the name of women?

Presently Randall gave a deep sigh, and turned to his wife.

"Is this story true, Helen?" he asked.

"It is true, Henry, true in every word," the woman moaned, lifting her tear-stained face to his. "But forgive us, for the love of heaven forgive us! We have sinned, but we have suffered. Oh, it has been terrible!"

So vehement was her emotion that she rose and stood once more before her husband by Mrs. Hampton's side. An intense silence reigned for a few seconds, and then Mr. Randall motioned them to sit down.

"You need not get so excited," he told them, as wearily they both sank down in their chairs. "I am amazed at what I have just heard, but I hope I am not brute enough to increase your agony. You both have committed a great sin, but you have suffered enough, so I gather, to atone for the past."

"And you forgive us?" his wife eagerly asked, looking at him with tear-dimmed eyes.

"Certainly I forgive you. What else should I do? But why did you not tell me about this before, Helen?"

"I was afraid, Henry. And you know you would have condemned me had I told you even a month ago."

"I believe you are right, Helen," was the quiet reply. "But I have changed a great deal since then. I have been at death's door, and see things in another light. And besides, I would not have known then where and who my son is. But I know now, so that makes all the difference."

In Mrs. Randall's eyes appeared an expression such as her husband had not seen there for many years. It thrilled him, and carried him back to the first happy year of their wedded life. Rising to her feet, she came swiftly toward him, knelt by his side, placed her arms about his neck and gave him a loving kiss. Tears were in her eyes, but they were tears of joy now, and her heart was happy.

Mrs. Hampton was about to steal quietly away and leave the two alone with their new-found joy, when the sound of voices coming toward them caused her to hesitate.

"They are coming!" she announced, "and we must tell them! What will they think?"

Across the field came the young lovers, talking and laughing in the gayest of spirits. Their faces were flushed with vigourous exercise, and every motion of their bodies betokened abounding health. Life was very sweet to them on this bright summer day as they advanced toward the silent group anxiously awaiting their coming beneath the spreading branches of the friendly old apple tree.

CHAPTER x.x.x

JOY AT EVENTIDE

It was early that evening as Jess kissed her father and advised him to go to sleep at once.

"You are tired, daddy, after the excitement of the day, so you need a good long rest."

"I suppose I do," was the reply. "But it will be somewhat hard to get to sleep after the events of the afternoon. Isn't it wonderful, Jess, what a change has come over your mother? I never saw anything like it."

"A great burden has been lifted from her mind, that's the reason. And, daddy, you forgive me for what I did?"

"Certainly, dear, certainly. But I am not your father any longer, remember."

"Oh, yes you are," and the girl smiled. "Just behave as you have since your accident, and I wouldn't change you for any man I know."

"Be careful, be careful what you say, Jess. I am not altogether blind and deaf."