d hopeful, just as
sure as you breathe."

"Oh, Bern! It was a slip. I never thought--I never thought!" replied
Jane. "How could I tell she didn't know?"

Lassiter suddenly moved forward, and with the beautiful light on his
face now strangely luminous, he looked at Jane and Venters and then let
his soft, bright gaze rest on Bess.

"Well, I reckon you've all had your say, an' now it's Lassiter's turn.
Why, I was jest praying for this meetin'. Bess, jest look here."

Gently he touched her arm and turned her to face the others, and then
outspread his great hand to disclose a shiny, battered gold locket.

"Open it," he said, with a singularly rich voice.

Bess complied, but listlessly.

"Jane--Venters--come closer," went on Lassiter. "Take a look at the
picture. Don't you know the woman?"

Jane, after one glance, drew back.

"Milly Erne!" she cried, wonderingly.

Venters, with tingling pulse, with something growing on him, recognized
in the faded miniature portrait the eyes of Milly Erne.

"Yes, that's Milly," said Lassiter, softly. "Bess, did you ever see her
face--look hard--with all your heart an' soul?"

"The eyes seem to haunt me," whispered Bess. "Oh, I can't
remember--they're eyes of my dreams--but--but--"

Lassiter's strong arm went round her and he bent his head.

"Child, I thought you'd remember her eyes. They're the same beautiful
eyes you'd see if you looked in a mirror or a clear spring. They're your
mother's eyes. You are Milly Erne's child. Your name is Elizabeth Erne.
You're not Oldring's daughter. You're the daughter of Frank Erne, a man
once my best friend. Look! Here's his picture beside Milly's. He was
handsome, an' as fine an' gallant a Southern gentleman as I ever seen.
Frank came of an old family. You come of the best of blood, lass, and
blood tells."

Bess slipped through his arm to her knees and hugged the locket to her
bosom, and lifted wonderful, yearning eyes.

"It--can't--be--true!"

"Thank God, lass, it is true," replied Lassiter. "Jane an' Bern
here--they both recognize Milly. They see Milly in you. They're so
knocked out they can't tell you, that's all."

"Who are you?" whispered Bess.

"I reckon I'm Milly's brother an' your uncle!... Uncle Jim! Ain't that
fine?"

"Oh, I can't believe--Don't raise me! Bern, let me kneel. I see truth
in your face--in Miss Withersteen's. But let me hear it all--all on my
knees. Tell me how it's true!"

"Well, Elizabeth, listen," said