"We are at cross-purposes, Mr. Trulock. You call the children Garland; do you know them only by that name?"
"Why, of course, only by that name," replied Ralph.
"And they came here, acting on the few words from their father of which you have spoken; and they failed to find their grandfather?"
"Failed entirely," said Ralph. "Never was a Garland in Fairford."
"And you took them to your home, and now love them as if they were your own?" went on Oliver Mordan, earnestly.
"Just so, sir," said Ralph.
"Mr. Trulock, the ways of God are very wonderful, as my dear mother used to say. Let me think a little. I must not be too sudden. I must ask you a question which may agitate you. Tell me, sir, had you not once a son?"
"Yes, one son."
"Named Frederick," said Mr. Mordan, "the same name as my poor friend."
Ralph turned white—then tried to rise from his chair, gasping out,—