a good, devoted child.
Tomorrow we will talk it over again. Now will you send for some toast
and eat. Oh, Lilian, child, don't cry. God will bring you out right and
forgive me for what I did out of longing love."

Lilian turned, Miss Arran took a step forward. "I will bring it to you,"
she said, and she motioned to Mrs. Dane who stood like a statue.

"Let us go to Mrs. Barrington. She must know this," she whispered.

Lilian bathed her face and readjusted her mother's pillows. The whole
world seemed in a daze about her. Yet she was not so much surprised
either, but stunned, incapable now of judging whether there had been any
right or wrong. If no one belonging to her had been found--and her own
mother was among the killed, she might have been turned over to some
foundling asylum.

"I feel much better," exclaimed Mrs. Boyd. "But, oh, Lilian, don't pray
for me to live, for I should be a helpless burden on you, and I'll have
my two own babies in heaven. I meant to do it for the best when I
claimed you, and I think God will understand. It's been a poor, broken
sort of life but I've tried to do up to the lights I had, and yours will
be better, higher. Mrs. Barrington appreciated you and will help you.
God surely opened this way for us."

Was it truly of God's providence? She had longed so ardently for the
refinements of life, the possibilities of education. Some times it
seemed as if He answered petitions in the suppliant's way and freighted
them with another burden.

But if this should be laid upon her she would pray for strength to do
her whole duty. It was hardly likely she would ever find any one
belonging to her, that was too wild a thought. She would keep this
generous foster mother as long as she needed love and care.

CHAPTER IX

WHOSE CHILD AM I?

Miss Arran tapped lightly at the half-open door and Mrs. Barrington bade
both ladies enter.

"How is Mrs. Boyd?"

"Why she seems curiously better. She has been talking awhile to her
daughter and her voice has a latent strength that surprises one, and we
have been unwitting listeners to a most remarkable story. Did you ever
suspect that she might not be the own mother of Miss Boyd?"

"The thought has crossed my mind. They are so dissimilar."

"I have never really liked Mrs. Boyd or the girl either," began Mrs.
Dane. "There seemed something to conceal, some secret between them. I
had a fancy Lilian was on the watch all the time lest her mother should