The day after the funeral, Gerard Fitzmorris came in Lord Wilton's carriage to bring Dorothy up to Heath Hall, as the Earl was impatient to see her.
On arriving at the stately mansion, they were immediately ushered into the noble library that had haunted Dorothy's dreams, since the day she first met her titled father.
The Earl was standing, with folded arms, before the portrait of his beautiful mother, the resemblance between her and Dorothy having been rendered yet more striking by the air of refinement that education, and the society of superior minds, had given to the latter.
At the sound of her light steps, the Earl held out his arms. Dorothy sank upon his breast, only uttering the simple word, "Father!"
"My child, my beloved child!"
For a long while he held her where nature had placed her, next his heart, and they mingled their tears together. Gerard walked to the window not less affected by their emotion.
The Earl at length mastered his feelings, and, placing Dorothy on a sofa, he called Gerard to him, and taking a seat between them, held firmly a hand of each.
"My dear children," he said, in a voice that still trembled with emotion, "the time for an explanation, of what must seem to you a strange and needless mystery, has arrived; and while I reveal my past sins and folly, I beg your earnest attention and forgiveness.
"You, Dorothy Chance, are my child, born in lawful wedlock, the only fruit of my marriage with Alice Knight, the beautiful and unfortunate young protégée of my mother, Lady Dorothy Granville.