"He has assured me again and again that he does not—"
"I know that he has deceived you."
Helen looked at her with a queer expression of angry repulsion that she should possess this secret of her unhappy life.
"You know?" she asked faintly.
"No," was the quick reply, "not about your birth; but I assure you the major does. Demand that he tell you."
"He'll refuse—"
"Ask him again, and stay until he does."
"But I'm intruding!" Helen cried, brushing a tear from her eyes.
"No matter, you're here, you're of age, you have the right to know the truth—stay until you learn it. If he slights you, pay no attention to it—stay until you know."
The girl's form suddenly stiffened and her eyes flashed: