He watched the faint quiver of her blue-veined lids, and heard the shuddering sigh that assured him consciousness was returning. Softly stroking her hand, he saw the eyes at last unclose.
"You certainly have been down among your uncanny Undine caves; for you quite resemble a drenched lily. Now sit up."
He lifted her back into the easy chair, as if she had been an infant, and stood before her.
As her mind cleared, she recalled what had passed, and said almost in a whisper:
"Did I dream, or did you tell me that horrible man is not my father?"
"I told you so. He is a black-hearted, vindictive miscreant, who successfully blackmailed you, by practising a vile imposture."
"Oh! are you quite sure?"
"Perfectly sure. I have been hunting him for years, and at last have obtained in black and white his own confession, which nobly exonerates your mother from his infamous aspirations."
"Thank God! Thank God!"
Tears were stealing down her cheeks, and he saw from the twitching of her face that she was fast losing control of her overtaxed nerves.