At that word she recoiled from him as though in fear, but he held the small hands tight, crying eagerly:
“Do not shrink from me, my daughter, for when you have heard how your parents were deceived and forced apart by cruel schemes to separate them, that succeeded, alas, too well, you will pity both of us, and you will not withhold your love from one who has been already too deeply wronged.”
“But they taught me to hate you,” Eva faltered, drawn to him against her will.
“I could curse them in their graves for that wrong!” he cried out bitterly; then restraining his fiery anger, he added: “But no, they thought I had wronged their child, and they could not help resenting it, little dreaming of the artifice that separated us, and that I have never known a happy hour since I found her gone in jealous anger that had no foundation, save in a schemer’s lies. But now that I have found I have a daughter, I shall not be lonely any more. Now that you have been cast off by those that kept you from me, my darling, you will come to your father’s heart and rest there.”
Every word sank into Eva’s hopeless heart, drawing her close to him for comfort in her despair.
But she held back from him, faltering humbly:
“You would not take me, father, if you knew all—my cruel past, my blighted name!”
A cloud passed over his face. He was proud, very proud, and the truth was very bitter. But he held her hands tighter; he leaned nearer till his lips touched her brow.
“I knew it all before I came for you, Eva,” he said gently. “But whether innocent or guilty, you are still my daughter, and you must come with me to a new life so far away that your sad past can never rise again to blight you with its shame, and I will make your future happy!”