'But whence this name of Trelawney?'
'I assumed it from an aunt, who left me a small fortune, but for which I—I might have been compelled to struggle in penury on the stage to support your daughter.'
'My daughter!' exclaimed Dalton, a great love for the beautiful little girl lie knew suddenly gushing up in his heart. 'My daughter—mine?'
'Our child,' said Laura, softly.
'Born—when?'
'Six months after you left me at Hastings.'
'But her name—of Antoinette?'
'Is but the feminine of your own—Anthony.'
'Oh, what a blind fool I have been—Laura—Laura!'
Goring, who had been studying a picture on the wall, now thought he might as well withdraw softly, and smoke his cigar outside.