"Forgive me," he said: "I have been ill so long, and my mind may be wandering still. Is it the truth that I am Newman Chaytor?"
"Yes, my dear, yes, you are the only being left to us on earth, the only link of love we have. If it distresses you to think, if the effort is too painful, rest till the morning; I will watch over you. Heaven has heard my prayers; my darling is restored to me. I can die happy now. The clouds have passed away; there is nothing but sunshine; your future shall be happy; we will make it so. Fortune has smiled upon us. Oh, it is wonderful, wonderful--and just as you have come back to us. But we will not speak of it to-night; we will wait till to-morrow, when you will be stronger."
"No, tell me something more--I am strong enough to listen."
"Oh, my poor boy, you have suffered much, you have had great troubles!"
"Yes, great and bitter troubles. Bring the lamp nearer. Am I changed?"
"Only a little paler than you used to be and a little thinner. There is no other change in you. Your father----"
"My father!"
"He lives, Newman, he lives, but he is very ill, and I can see that the doctor fears for him. But he loves you still. Do not think hardly of him, Newman; he will not be long with us. Say that you forgive him!"
"What have I to forgive?"
"There speaks the noble heart of my darling boy. You can bring peace and comfort to him, as you have brought it to me. You can brighten his last hours. You will do it, will you not, my dear boy?"