Mr. Warden looked at his daughter anxiously. She was greatly changed, and he could not but feel that his bright, light-hearted Amy would never come back again. Now and then flashes of her old self would shine out, and she would look up in his face with her own laughing eyes, but it was only now and then, and the Amy of to-day was a sadder, paler, more thoughtful being than the Amy of six months ago. “Amy, dear,” said Mr. Warden, tenderly, “tell me one thing and I will ask no more questions to-night. Did your mother ever allude in any way to the wrong she once did me, or did you learn this story from some one else?” “From Lord Hardcastle,” replied Amy. “When I first saw my mother, as she clasped me in her arms, she said, ‘my darling, do you know the whole truth, and can you love me still?’ I, imagining she referred to your neglect and cruelty, and her impatience and flight as described by Isola, replied that I did know the whole truth, and I loved her better than ever. After this nothing more was said by either of us on the matter. It was not until Lord Hardcastle stood before me on the rocks and insisted, with his thin pale face and solemn manner, that I should hear the whole truth and then judge between my parents, that I knew what had really occurred. Papa, papa, I felt then I should hate him for ever and ever for having cast down my idol from its pedestal. Yet,” she added, tearfully, “I ought to be grateful to him, too, for has he not given back to me my own dear father, and cleared away the cloud that had risen up between us?” “Thank God for that, indeed, my child, and had it not been for him, Amy, your father would not be here talking to you now. A few more such days of grief and anxiety would have worn out the last remains of my strength. I owe Lord Hardcastle a debt I can never repay, and it pained me beyond measure the other day to hear your abrupt question as to his right to wear your ring. You must have wounded him deeply.” “But, papa, dear, that was because he was not equal to the occasion. Some gentlemen I know, such as Mr. Varley for instance, would have said ‘if I had but the right to wear it,’ or some such polite speech. Of course I should have thought it very impertinent and great nonsense. But no one will ever accuse Lord Hardcastle of talking nonsense! He mounts his high horse immediately, gives me back my ring with scarcely a word, and with the air of an emperor walks out of the room!” “Amy,” said Mr. Warden, after a moment’s pause, “you spoke of Frank Varley just now; do you care to know what has become of him?” “Yes,” said Amy, looking up eagerly, “where is he, papa? What did he do when he heard I was lost? Tell me, don’t keep me waiting an instant,” she added in her old tone and manner.