"Oh--no, that's not their name," she said, panic-stricken--then saw that he had meant it as a joke, and said, trying to smile, yes, there _were_ a good many Smiths in the world! Then suddenly her misery rose like a wave, and swept her into words: "These people are terribly unhappy, at least the mother is, because--" She paused, stammered, felt she had gone too far, and stumbled into contradictions which could not have misled anyone, certainly not Doctor Lavendar. "They, these people, had let their child be adopted--oh, a great many years ago, because they--they were not so situated that they could bring him--it--up. But they could, now. And they wanted him, they wanted him--her, I mean," said Mary; "I believe it was a little girl. But the little girl didn't want to come back to them. And the person who had taken her influenced her against her parents, who had done _everything_ for her!--given her everything a child could want. It's cruel," said Mary. "Cruel! I know the parents, and--" "Mary," said Doctor Lavendar, gently, "so do I." She recoiled as if from a blow. "No--oh no! You are mistaken, sir. You couldn't know them. His--his relatives don't live here. They live in another city. You couldn't possibly know them!" She was white with terror. What would Carl say? Oh, she must lie her way out of it! How mad she had been to come here and hint at things! "I have known Johnny Smith's parentage for several years, Mary." "I didn't say the child was Johnny Smith!" "_I_ said so." "I don't know what you're talking about! The father and mother lived out West, but _I_ don't know the child. He is nothing to me." "I wonder," said Doctor Lavendar, half to himself, "do we all deny love thrice?--for you do love him, Mary, my dear; I know you do." She tried, in panic denial, to meet his quiet eyes--then gave a little moan and bent over and hid her face on her knees. "Oh, I do love him--I do," she said in a whisper. "But he doesn't love me. . . . And yet he is _mine_--Carl's and mine." Then anger flared up again: "Who told you? Oh, it was Miss Lydia, and she promised she wouldn't! How wicked in her!" "No one told me." There was a moment's silence, then Doctor Lavendar said, "There were people in Old Chester who thought he was Miss Lydia's." "Fools! fools!" she said, passionately. "No one came forward to deny it." She did not notice this; the flood of despair and longing broke into entreaty; how could she get her child--her own child--who considered her just an outsider! "That's Miss Lydia's influence!" she said. Doctor Lavendar listened, asked a question or two, and then was silent. "I am dying for him!" she said; "oh, I am in agony for him!"