! He knew it;
every one knew it. And when the climax came and the decision was
made--leaving the man-who-had-learned-his-lesson unaware of the divine
renunciation but strong enough to take up his life clear-sightedly; when
the little heroine lifted her eyes and her empty arms to the trail
leading up and into the mysterious woods--and to all that she knew they
held--something happened to Truedale! He felt the clutch of a small cold
hand on his. He looked around, and into the wide eyes of Ann! The child
seemed hypnotized and, as if touched by a magic power, her resemblance
to her mother fairly radiated from her face. She was struggling for
expression. Seeking to find words that would convey what she was
experiencing. It was like remembering indistinctly another country and
scene, whose language had been forgotten. Then--and only Lynda and
Truedale heard--little Ann said:

"It's Nella-Rose! Father, it's Nella-Rose!"

Betty had been right. The shock had, for a moment, drawn the veil aside,
the child was looking back--back; she heard what others had called the
one she now remembered--the sacreder name had escaped her!

"Father, it's Nella-Rose!"

Truedale continued to look at Ann. Like a dying man--or one suddenly
born into full life--he gradually understood! As Ann looked at that
moment, so had Nella-Rose looked when, in Truedale's cabin, she turned
her eyes to the window and saw his face!

This was Nella-Rose's child, but why had Lynda--? And with this thought
such a wave of emotion swept over Truedale that he feared, strong as he
was, that he was going to lose consciousness. For a moment he struggled
with sheer physical sensation, but he kept his eyes upon the small, dark
face turned trustingly to his. Then he realized that people were moving
about; the body of the house was nearly empty; McPherson, while helping
Betty on with her cloak, was commenting upon the play.

"Good stuff!" he admitted. "Some muscle in that. Not the usual appeal to
the uglier side of life. But come, come, Mrs. Kendall, stop crying. It's
only a play, after all."

"Oh! I know," Betty quiveringly replied, "but it's so human, Dr.
McPherson. That dear little woman has almost broken my heart; but she'd
have broken it utterly if she had acted differently. I don't believe the
author ever _guessed_ her! Somewhere she _lived_ and played her part. I
just know it!"

Truedale heard all this while he watched the strained look fading from
Ann's face. T