Their joy, though no longer expressed in tears, was still almost too deep for words.
For several moments they stood holding each other in a silent embrace; then Ethel, putting the folded paper into her mother’s hand, said:
“Here, dear mamma, is a proof of my identity that till now I had forgotten to produce.”
“It is altogether unnecessary, my precious child,” Mrs. Heywood answered, opening the paper as she spoke. But as her eye glanced down the written page her cheek suddenly paled, and she uttered a low cry.
“This!” she said, with a shudder, “my contract with Mr. Kemper! Child, child, put it into the fire! Never let me see it again! Oh, what the signing of it has cost me!”
THE END.