"But—don't you remember you told me that your betrayer died from natural causes?"
"I told you that he died a natural death. He did; it was by my hand."
"Let her go on, Margaret."
"You know that day you came to the hospital and wanted to take my boy because he looked like yours and because you were so desolate?"
"Yes."
"And then you heard my story and were so filled with pity for a poor sinning girl that you brought me to your own home and put my child into my empty arms and said, 'This much of life's joy you shall have.' Oh, I have never forgotten those words! Do you remember that?"
"Yes," said Margaret.
"It was because your own heart was sore that you wanted to bind up mine. But I did not know—oh, believe me, I did not know—into whose house I was coming. I had not heard your name till one day the young girl called you Mrs. Osborne. I had not even thought of it. You were so gentle—so merciful—I did not care about your name. When one day I heard a servant call you Mrs. De Jarnette, I fainted. I was very weak, you know, and it came over me like a flash whose house I was in."
"I remember that time," said Mrs. Pennybacker in an undertone to Mr. De Jarnette. "We wondered what it was."
"I felt after that that I must go away," the sick girl said, "I felt that I could not stay under your roof knowing that I had made your child fatherless. But then—I thought if I should tell you you would send my Louis back to the Home and me to the Hospital, and I would lose him again just as he was getting fond of me. I tried to tell—but I could not."