know it!"

"Know what?" he asked anxiously. "What is it that distresses you,
father? Let me speak to this person--"

Then she broke out--not loud, not coarsely, but very
determinately--"No, sir; you would be very glad to suppress me, and my
child, and my evidence, no doubt; but the Earl of Trevorsham has
acknowledged the truth of my claim, and I will not leave this spot till
he has acknowledged my mother as his only lawful wife, and my child,
Trevor Lea, as his only lawful heir!"

Torwood thought her insane and only said quietly, as he offered my
father his arm, "I will talk it over with you presently; Lord
Trevorsham is not equal to discuss it now."

"I see what you mean!" she said quickly. "You would like to make me
out crazy, but Lord Trevorsham knows better. Do not you, my father?"
she said, with a strong emphasis, the more marked, because it was
concentrated, not loud.

My poor father was shuddering all over with involuntary trembling; but
he put Torwood's hand away from him, and looked up piteously, as if his
heart was breaking (as it was); but he spoke steadily. "It is true.
It is true, Torwood. I was married to poor Faith, when I was a young
man, in Canada. They sent me proofs that all had perished when the
Indians attacked the village; but--" and then he put his hands over his
face. It must have been dreadful to see; but Hester Lea was too much
bent on her rights to feel a moment's pity; and she spoke on in a hard
tone, with her eyes fixed on my brother's face.

"But you failed to discover that she was rescued from the Indians; gave
birth to me, your daughter, Hester; and only died two years ago."

"You hear! My boy, my poor boy, forgive me; don't leave me to her,"
was what my poor father had said--he who had been so strong.

My brother saw what it all meant now. "Never fear that, sir," he said;
"I am your son still, any way, you know."

"You will do justice to me," she began, in her fierce tone; but my
brother met it calmly with, "Certainly, we will do our best that
justice should be done. You have brought proof?"

His quietness overawed her, and she pointed to the papers on the table.
They were her mother's attested narrative, and the certificate of her
burial.

My brother read aloud, "The 3rd of February, 1836," then he turned to
my father and said, "You observe, father, the difference this may make,
if true, is that of putting little Alured into the place I have held.
My father's la