Mechanically she obeyed, and handed it to him with the case unopened. He pressed the spring and revealed the pictured face to her.
"It was your mother," he said, almost reverently.
She took the portrait from his hand and gazed upon it. For the first time the glazed eyes filled with tears, but they did not fall.
"It is very like—her," she said, slowly. "Oh, dad! what have I done that God should send a curse like this upon me?"
"Hush, dear! You must not question the wisdom of God. Bear your burden meekly, and He will help you in the end. Oh, Leonie! why would not you let me save you?"
"I could not, dad. You must not blame me. What right had I, the daughter of a thief——"
"You shall not say that—she was your mother! Listen to her story, and see if you cannot find an excuse for her, even as I did. Listen, Leonie! I will make the story as short as I can."
[CHAPTER VII.]
Godfrey Cuyler paused.