She read the
advertisement, then looked up to him with distended eyes, full of
questioning.

"What does the paper say? It could not have disclosed much or you would
not have waited so long to tell me."

Then Quincy related the story of the sealed package, how it had been
given to Alice Pettengill long before Mrs. Putnam died; how Miss
Pettengill had sworn to destroy it, but would not when she learned that
it might possibly contain information relating to her parents. He told
her that Miss Pettengill would not allow any one to read it but herself;
and how he had promised to search for her until he found her. Then he
related the incident at the lawyer's office and the piece of cloth
bearing the name, "Linda Fernborough," "which," said Quincy, "I think
must have been your mother's maiden name." He did not tell her of the
old gentleman only five blocks away, ready and willing to claim her as
his granddaughter without further proof than that little piece of doth.

Quincy looked at his watch. "I have just time," said he, "to get the one
o'clock train for Boston. I will obtain the papers to-morrow morning,
and be in New York again to-morrow night. The next morning early I will
be at your residence with the papers, and let us hope that they will
contain such information as will disclose your parentage and give you a
name that you can rightfully bear."

She wrote her home address on a card and passed it to him.

He gave her hand a quick, firm pressure and left the store, not even
glancing at Hortense, who gazed at him with wonderment. He hailed a
hack and was driven to the hotel. He found Sir Stuart and told him that
he had found his supposed granddaughter, but that he must wait until he
returned from Boston with the papers, that his wife's feelings must be
respected, and that the document could only be opened and read by the
person who had been known to her as Lindy Putnam.

Quincy reached Mt. Vernon Street about eight o'clock that evening. His
wife and aunt listened eagerly to the graphic recital of his search. He
pictured the somewhat sensational episode in the boudoir in the most
expressive language, and Alice remarked that Quincy was fast gathering
the materials for a most exciting romance; while Aunt Ella declared that
the disclosure of the dual personality of Linda and Celeste would form a
most striking theatrical tableau.

Aunt Ella informed him that she had been requested by Mr. and Mrs.
Nathaniel Adams Sawyer t