Miss Arran came gently in the room with an anxious glance toward the bed.
“Mrs. Barrington wishes to see you in the library, Miss Boyd. I will stay here with your mother.”
Lilian laid down her work as she rose and said: “Mother is asleep now.”
Then she went slowly down the wide stairway, her eyes lingering on some of the panels that had been painted in by a true artist.
“My dear child,” the lady said in a voice that seemed full of emotion, “you must have felt from the beginning that I had taken an unusual interest in you. You suggested some person that I could not quite place, but came to know afterward that it was one of my early scholars, a most charming girl. She married happily and had two sons, but they both longed for a daughter. Providence listened to their prayers and sent them a double portion, two lovely girls. My friend’s husband was a soldier stationed on the frontier and in an Indian raid was quite severely wounded. It was not deemed best to risk moving him and she resolved to go out to him. One of the babies, the first born was larger and stronger than the other, and she determined to take this one with a most excellent nurse she had. You heard the story Mrs. Boyd told. My friend was in the same frightful accident—the nurse was killed outright, but the baby by some miracle had not so much as a scratch. The only other baby was crushed beyond recognition.”
Lilian sprang up, then the room seemed to swim round. She caught at the chair back to steady herself and gave a great gasp.
“Oh, and my mother, Mrs. Boyd, took the child, but they all thought the nurse the real mother. And, oh—she could not bear to give up the baby. Oh, you must forgive her.”
“In the confusion I can see that it was very easily done. Dr. Kendricks went out at once. He found the mother gravely injured and the word was that the baby was dead. It was beyond recognition. Mrs. Boyd, who had only been stunned, had gone on her way. You have heard her side of the story, knowing the other side when Miss Arran detailed it, we sent for Dr. Kendricks and pieced it all together. You have been so occupied with your supposed mother, and I must say you have been a devoted daughter, that you have hardly noted our excitement and interest. The confession established the facts beyond a doubt in our minds, but we were not sure how the father would take it. And the place has altered immeasurably; there have been so many accidents since, that that has passed into oblivion. But no one can dispute the proof. Your mother was a noticeably handsome girl; but there is a curious resemblance, and it grows upon one.”
“And I am scarcely handsome at all,” the girl said, slowly.
“Have you no curiosity to know whom you belong to?” studying Lilian intently.