being conclusive, and the
interment, a few hours later, was strictly private. Excepting the
clergyman who read the burial service, there were present only the
two sons of the wretched woman.

It was their first meeting since learning of the strange relationship
existing between them, and Walter LaGrange, as he entered the
presence of the dead, cast a curious glance, half shrinking, half
defiant, at the calm, stern face of Harold Mainwaring, who had
preceded him. His own face was haggard and drawn, and the hard,
rigid lines deepened as his glance fell for an instant on the casket
between them. Then his eyes looked straight into those of Harold
Mainwaring with an expression almost imploring.

"Tell me," he demanded in low, hoarse tones, "is it true that I
am--what she once said and what report is now saying--the son of
Hugh Mainwaring?"

"It is true," the other replied, gravely.

"Then curse them both!" he exclaimed, while his hands clinched
involuntarily. "What right had they to blight and ruin my life?
What right had they to live as they did, and let the stigma, the
shame, the curse of it all fall on me? A few months since I had
the honor and respect of my classmates and associates; to-day, not
one will recognize me, and for no fault of mine!"

"Hush!" interposed Harold Mainwaring; "I know the wrong which has
been done you,--they have wronged me, also, far more deeply than
you know,--but this is no time or place to recall it!"

The calmness and kindness of his tones seemed to soothe and control
his excited companion.

"I know they have wronged you," the latter replied; "but they have
not ruined you! You have not only friends and wealth, but, more
than all, your father's name. I," he added bitterly, "am a pauper,
and worse than a pauper, for I have not even a name!"

For a few moments Harold Mainwaring silently studied the haggard
young face confronting him, in which anger was slowly giving place
to dull, sullen despair; and his own heart was suddenly moved with
pity for the boy.

"Robbed of his birthright before he was born," reared in an
atmosphere of treachery and deceit calculated to foster and develop
the evil tendencies already inherited; yet, notwithstanding all, so
closely akin to himself.

"Walter," he said, gravely, at the same time extending his hand
across the casket, "I realize the truth of much that you have said,
but you need not allow this to ruin or blight your life. Mark my
words