Their faces lighted up with satisfaction as she closed with the information gleaned from Mrs. Dobbs.
“Ah!” cried Mr. Tredick, rubbing his hands and showing a fine set of false teeth, “I begin to see a little light. You deserve a great deal of credit for your exertions—the energy and wisdom with which they have been made, Miss Farnese.”
“It was God’s good providence, sir, not any wisdom of mine,” she answered with quiet simplicity.
“May I ask if you were brought up by the Kempers with the knowledge that you were their child only by adoption?” queried Mr. Server.
“I had not the slightest suspicion of it till my—Mrs. Kemper revealed the fact to me with her dying breath,” Floy answered in a voice that trembled with almost overpowering emotion.
“Pardon me,” he said, with a touch of compassion in his tones and a second glance at her mourning dress, “your loss has been recent, I fear?”
She bowed a silent assent.
“And you were ignorant of your true mother’s name?” pursued Mr. Tredick, modulating his voice to express sympathy in her sorrow; “had you not then this deed of gift in your possession?”
Floy told of her vain search of last year, and her recent discovery.
“Are you now satisfied of my identity?” she asked.