Contrary to their expectations, Mrs. l’Estrange was neither ill nor cast down. Perhaps she did not realize yet that her home had just been burned to the ground. At any rate, when Mr. Donahue carried her into the hotel, she rested her cheek on his shoulder and said softly:
“You find me a broken old woman, Ignatius.”
“No, no, Virginia. Only much paler and thinner. There is a great doctor who is an intimate friend of mine, and he has promised to come down in a few days and have a look at that spine of yours. I have enormous faith in him. I believe he can cure you.”
The two Edwards were talking earnestly together when Billie restored the little mocking bird to its master, and before they parted they grasped hands like two brothers who had been reunited after a long separation.
CHAPTER XXIII.—EXPLANATIONS.
Late that evening, when Billie sat resting on the piazza, not caring to join the others who were laughing and talking together, Edward l’Estrange drew up a chair beside her and told her the strange story which had drawn them all into a network of puzzling incidents.
“My father was an Englishman, Billie. His name was Paxton.”
Billie started.
“Then you are——”
“Yes. I am Edward’s first cousin. Our fathers were twins and adored each other as twins usually do. My father did not get on well with his mother because he wanted to be a musician. Edward’s father was more practical and he was her favorite son. But he was dissipated, and once in a fit of wild temper he committed a crime, and when they arrested my father by mistake, his brother let him go to jail.”