"Sometimes while intoxicated she would hint to me that in reality we were not flesh and blood, that I was in no way akin to her, that there was a secret in my life that she could reveal if she would, a secret the publication of which would be greatly to my advantage. But she never became so intoxicated that she told me the whole truth; I could only guess it. Sometimes during her sober intervals I would tax her with what she had said; but she would always reply by telling me that I must pay no attention to anything she said when she was drunk—that she was at such times out of her mind, and did not know what she was saying. Once, when I persisted, she became greatly enraged, and gave me such a beating that I was taken to a hospital and she was arrested and sentenced to a term of imprisonment."
At this point in her story Miss March burst into tears.
"Postpone telling the rest of it until another time," said Al, to whom the recital was almost as painful as to the girl.
"No," said the actress, "I must go on. I was discharged from the hospital on the day on which Aunt Ann was released from jail, and the old life was renewed."
"You went back to live with the woman?" cried Al.
"Yes. I had no other home. Besides, I still hoped that I might be able to learn from her the secret of my birth—for that there was a secret I was now more firmly convinced than ever. At the time of which I have just been telling you, I was about twelve years of age. Three years later Aunt Ann, while under the influence of liquor, met with an accident which terminated her miserable life in two days. When she was told that she was really dying, she sent for a priest and confessed to him. When the clergyman was gone she summoned me to her bedside, and told me that at the suggestion of the good father she was about to tell me at last the secret that I had been striving so long to learn."
"And she said——" demanded the boy, breathlessly.
"She began by telling me that she was not my aunt, that we were in no way related. Years before she had been my nurse. My poor mother had in some trivial way offended her, and under the influence of her anger—and, I suppose, of alcohol—she determined to revenge herself by kidnaping me. She carried this resolution into effect, and her guilt was never proven, although it was suspected. 'My name is not Ann Thompson,' she said to me, 'but you shall know now what it really is, and who your parents are. Your father is dead, but your mother still lives. For years she has mourned you unceasingly.' The woman then bade me unlock and open a certain drawer in her bureau. I did so, and took from it at her direction a small package. 'That bundle,' she said, 'contains proof of your identity. Take it to your mother and show her what is in it. Tell her what I have said, give her my real name, and she will acknowledge you as her 'daughter.' 'What is your name?' I cried, breathlessly—'what is mine?' The woman opened her lips to reply, but not a sound escaped them. The next moment she fell back upon her pillow. I bent over her, crying in an agony of suspense: 'Speak, speak!' But she could not, she was dead!"
"What did the package contain?" asked Al.
"Only a few articles of infant's clothing and two pieces of jewelry. Some time they may be of assistance to me in finding my parents, but thus far they have proved of no value as a clew. Well, after Aunt Ann's death I was adopted by a family in moderate circumstances. They had no interest in my personal affairs, all they wanted of me was my services as housemaid, and I served in that capacity for two years. Then came an opportunity to adopt a stage career, and I eagerly seized it, against the advice of all who were in any way interested. I must say that, so far, I have had no reason to regret my decision in the matter. I find that the stories of the temptations of stage life that I had heard were gross exaggerations, and that a woman can be as good and pure on the stage as off it. And now, my friend, you have heard my story; can you help me find my mother? Do you think it possible that I am the sister for whom you have been searching?"