Yes, it was even as he had surmised, for there, in black and white, as plain and strong as the law could make it, was the certificate which proved the legality of the bond that united William Mapleson and Annie Dale, and dated only a few days later than the telegram which he had just seen. They had been married in Kansas City immediately upon the arrival of Miss Dale, by the Rev. Dr. A. K. Bailey, of the Episcopal church. A song of thanksgiving arose in Geoffrey’s heart as he read this, for it proved that his mother had been an honored wife—that no stain had ever rested on his birth; he was the legitimate son of William and Annie Mapleson, and the burden of fear and dread, that had so long oppressed him, was rolled away from his heart at last. There was something else in one corner at the bottom of the box—a tiny case of black morocco. Geoffrey seized it eagerly, turned back the lid, and a small, heavy ring of gold lay before him. His heart leaped anew at the sight of it; nothing had been neglected to do honor to the beautiful girl whom William Mapleson had loved. He turned it toward the light and read on its inner surface; “W. M. to A. D., Aug. 12th, 18——” A heavy sigh, that was almost a sob, burst from him, though it was one of joy instead of sorrow. “A fortune could not purchase these from me,” he said, looking up with moist eyes, while he reverently laid back in their place the priceless treasures he had found. A spasm of pain contracted Colonel Mapleson’s face at his words, for he could well understand the feeling that lay behind them, and he could not fail to realize, too, something of the questionable position which his boy had occupied all his life. He was very grave and thoughtful, and Mr. Huntress, as he watched him, could see that he was struggling with some weighty matter that lay upon his conscience. At length he lifted his head, with a quick, resolute motion, showing that he had settled it, whatever it was. “Mr. Huntress and Geoffrey,” he said, glancing from one to the other; “I have a long story to tell you, and a hard one, too, for not a soul in the world save you two and the clergyman who performed the ceremony really knows that I was ever married before the present Mrs. Mapleson became my wife. I am bound to tell this story not only to you, but also to her; that, as you cannot fail to understand, will be the hardest part of my confession.” Both his listeners sympathized with him deeply. They could easily perceive how humiliating it would be to this proud man to make such a disclosure to his wife after having deceived her for more than a score of years; yet both knew that it was an act of justice which should be performed in order that Geoffrey might be acknowledged as a son and heir, and thus attain his proper position in the world.