A moan of pain came from the girl's white lips.
"Oh, father, I cannot tell you now," she sighed. "Only trust me. Do not believe me vile and wicked. Perhaps I may be able to tell you the truth some day."
As she spoke, some strange, new light flashed into his mind.
She saw the startled gleam flash into his eyes.
"Tell me," he cried out, hoarsely, "are you the girl that was dismissed from Mrs. Desmond's employ under the stigma of a disgraceful suspicion?"
She covered her face with her hands and faltered "yes," in a voice of agony.
"Was that terrible accusation true?" he demanded, in a voice so changed she could scarcely recognize it.
"No, never! It was false, I swear it before Heaven. My trouble came to me before I entered Mrs. Desmond's employ," she replied.
"Golden, you must tell me the name of the man who has wronged you," he said, sternly.
"I cannot," she answered, sorrowfully.