“What am I, then, that those who gave me life should turn shudderingly away from me as from a monster accursed?”
“Child, child, cease your wild questionings! There are mysteries in this world that may never be revealed until that last dread day of doom, when all that is hidden shall be made clear!”
After this there was silence between them for a few minutes, during which they gazed upon each other’s faces with mournful, questioning interest. Then Hollis Elverton, in a gentle voice, inquired:
“What name have they given you, child?”
“My mother called me by no name, but the good doctor gave me that of Alma.”
“Then you did not receive the rites of Christian baptism?”
“Not in infancy—not until I was old enough to act for myself in that respect; then I presented myself at the altar, and received at the same time the sacraments of baptism and confirmation.”
“And your mother?”
“She made no objection, but gave me no encouragement. She was neutral in the matter; but, father, did I not do right?”
Hollis Elverton groaned, but made no reply. And again silence fell between them, while they studied each other with the same painful interest. At length she broke the spell by asking, in a tearful voice: