own to Alden Lytton,
Emma and Laura, as it had long been known to Mr. Lyle, his friend, and
to Electra, his wife. And Emma and Laura wept anew over the long past
sorrows of poor Victor Hartman.

Alden grasped his hand in earnest gratitude and friendship.

"And it is to _you_," he said, "that my sister and myself owe all our
present happiness. You thought for us, planned for us, toiled for us,
made us even as your own children, simply because you were falsely
accused of having made us fatherless!" he said, as the generous tears
filled his eyes.

"I did all this because, but for the mercy of Heaven, a mad blow of
mine _might_ have made you fatherless, as it nearly did," answered
Victor Hartman.

"Do you know who really struck the fatal blow and why it was struck?"

"No; I know neither one nor the other."

"Then you shall learn, for now is the time to speak," said Alden Lytton.

CHAPTER LI.

WHO KILLED HENRY LYTTON--FATE OF MARY GREY.

In pursuance of his promise to tell who killed his father, Alden Lytton
said:

"One hardly knows how to begin so painful a story. But here it is. You
may have heard of a wild, handsome ne'er-do-weel who kept the White
Perch Point hotel and married a relative of the Cavendish family?"

"Oh, yes, of course! He was the husband of this widow lady who lives
here."

"The same. They had one child, a daughter, said to have been as
beautiful as the mother, and as wild and reckless as the father. Out of
pure deviltry, as it would seem, this girl ran away from her
boarding-school in company with an unprincipled young play-actor, who
afterward abandoned her. Soon after this my dear father, who had known
her parents and herself, too, met and recognized her under the most
painful circumstances. He was deeply shocked, and almost with a father's
authority he insisted on taking her home to his own house and sending
for her friends. She was but a child. She knew, also, that, being a
minor, she was liable to be taken in custody, upon complaint made, and
forcibly restored to her family. But she was full of duplicity. She
affected to consent to return to her parents, and allowed my father to
bring her back as far as his own house, whence he wrote a letter to her
father telling him of the whereabouts of his daughter, and asking him to
come and receive her at his hands. But the very day upon which this
letter was mailed two events occurred to frustrate the good intentions
of the writer. Ivy