"Why, godmother"—she began. Then, glancing from one to the other, her cheeks grew pale—she hesitated, instinctively guessing at the truth. Lord Blythe advanced and took her gently by both hands.
"Dear child, your secret is ours!" he said, quietly. "Miss Leigh knows, and I know that you are the daughter of Pierce Armitage, and that your mother was my late wife. No one can be dearer to us both than you are—for your father's sake!"
CHAPTER VII
Startled and completely taken aback, she let her hands remain passively in his for a moment,—then quietly withdrew them. A hot colour rushed swiftly into her cheeks and as swiftly receded, leaving her very pale.
"How can you know?" she faltered—"Who has told you?"
"Your mother herself told me on the night she died," he answered—"She gave me all the truth of herself,—at last—after long years!"
She was silent—standing inert as though she had received a numbing blow. Miss Leigh rose and came tremblingly towards her.
"My dear, my dear!" she exclaimed—"I wish I had known it all before!—I might have done more—I might have tried to be kinder—"
The girl sprang to her side and impulsively embraced her.
"You would have tried in vain!" she said, fondly, "No one on earth could have been kinder than my beloved little godmother! You have been the dearest and best of friends!"