to break the silence! Gwen
made her voice even clearer, even more deliberate, to say:--"Because he
forged it to deceive your mother, and it deceived her, and she believed
you dead. For years she believed you and her sister dead. And when she
returned to England...."

She was interrupted by a poor dumfoundered effort at speech, more seen
in the face she was intently watching than heard. She waited for it, and
it came at last, in gasps:--"But it is to Mrs. Prichard--the
letter--Mrs. Prichard's letter--oh, why?--oh, why?..." And Ruth Thrale
caught at her head with her hands, as though she felt it near to
bursting.

The surgeon's knife is most merciful when most resolutely used.

"Because old Mrs. Prichard _is_ your mother," said Gwen, all her heart
so given to the task before her that she quite forgot, in a sense, her
own existence. "Because she _is_ your mother, whom you have always
thought dead, and who has always thought you dead. Because she _is_ your
mother, who has been living here in England--oh, for so many years
past!--and never found you out!"

Ruth Thrale's hands fell helpless in her lap, and she sat on, dumb,
looking straight in front of her. Gwen would have been frightened at her
look, but she caught sight of a tear running down her face, and felt
that this was, for the moment, the best that might be. That tear
reassured her. She might safely leave the convulsion that had caused it
to subside. If only the sleeper in the next room would remain asleep a
little longer!

She did right to be silent and wait. Presently the two motionless hands
began moving uneasily; and, surely, those were sighs, long drawn out?
That had the sound of tension relieved. Then Ruth Thrale turned her eyes
full on the beautiful face that was watching hers so anxiously, and
spoke suddenly.

"I must go to her at once."

"But think!--is it well to do so? She knows nothing."

"My lady--is there need she should? Nor I cannot tell her now, for I
barely know, myself. But I _want_ her--oh, I want her! Oh, all these
cruel years! Poor Mrs. Prichard! But who will tell mother?" She was
stopped by a new bewilderment, perhaps a worse one.

"_I_ will tell mother." Gwen took the task upon herself, recklessly.
Well!--it had to be gone through with, by someone. And she would do
anything to spare this poor mother and daughter. _She_ would tell Granny
Marrable! She did, however, hope that Dr. Nash had broken the ice for
her.

A sound came from