She spoke decidedly, like one who had a right, and the proud woman bit her lip with vexation, but obeyed the girl who had so suddenly come before her in a new phase of character. She could not credit the story she had heard, and yet there it was in the colonel’s handwriting, “You are our daughter.” Even _she_ never thought of Edith as connected with it, and in her own mind she ran over the name of every lady of her acquaintance who could by any possibility be implicated in the affair. But all in vain. She could find no clue to the mystery, and was obliged to give it up and wait for further developments when the colonel returned. Though she did not fully believe the story she felt more kindly toward Gertie, and when at last Godfrey awoke and was in the ship again, and insisted that _La Sœur_ should sit behind him and hold his head on her bosom to keep it from bumping against the side of the berth, she bade Gertie sit there, and offered no remonstrance when the pale face bent so low over the flushed, feverish one that the girl’s bright hair mingled with the brown curls of the sick man who called her “_La petite capitaine_,” and said she was steering him through the waves like an old salt! Miss Rossiter could not go home while matters were in this state, and she wrote a note to Alice, asking that a dressing-gown might be sent to her with a few other articles necessary for the sick-room. Alice brought them herself, and sat in the parlor and cried when Miss Rossiter told her of Godfrey, and opened her eyes with wonder when told of Gertie and the relation she bore to Colonel Schuyler, if his word could be trusted. Alice believed it, and it lifted a load from her mind. If Gertie was Godfrey’s sister, then she ceased to be a rival, and in the first revulsion of feeling Alice felt very kindly toward Gertie, and expressed so strong a desire to see her that, at Miss Rossiter’s request, Gertie went down to the little lady, who received her rather gushingly. Alice forgave easily, and when she saw Gertie so pale and worn, and knew that it came from watching by Godfrey when there was no one else to care for him, she forgot her old animosity entirely, and kissing her twice told her what a good girl she was to stay with Godfrey when he was so sick, and the fever catching, perhaps. “And you are his sister, too?” she continued. “It is very strange, but I am so glad, and everything will turn out well if Godfrey only lives. Do you think he will?” Gertie could not tell. He was very sick, she said, and she seemed so anxious to return to him that Alice arose to go. Standing a moment irresolutely and looking at Gertie she said: “You are a nice little girl, and always were, and when Godfrey can understand, will you tell him I have been here, and that I am so sorry, and—and——” She could not quite say what she wanted to, but Gertie knew what she meant, and answered her: “I’ll tell him, and do all I can for you. I think it will come right now.”