“That must have been the cause of the misunderstanding,” returned Richard, “for the sailor told me you died of scarlet fever, and crediting his statement, I had no longer a desire to return, but remained in India, amassing wealth until I met with Edith’s mother. Owing to her blessed influence I became, as I trust, a better man, though I obstinately refused to write to my father, as she often wished me to do. On her death-bed, however, I promised that I would come home and comfort his old age. I knew he was alive, for I sometimes saw his name in the American papers which came in my way, but I had no conception of the joyful surprise awaiting me in Dresden,” and he fondly kissed Mildred’s glowing cheek. “The moment I saw your face I was struck with its resemblance to my sister’s; and to myself I said: ‘If it were possible I should say that is my daughter.’ Then the thought came over me, ‘The sailor was perhaps mistaken,’ and I managed to learn your name, which swept away all hope, especially when afterwards you told me that your mother was Helen Thornton. There has evidently been some deep-laid scheme to rob you both of your birth-right and of a husband, and, as I do not quite understand it, will you please explain to me what it is about this Geraldine Veille and Esther Bennett. Who is the latter, and why is she interested in you?” Briefly as possible, Mildred told him of all that had come to her during his absence, of the fraud imposed upon her by Geraldine; of Oliver’s unfailing kindness, and how but for the wicked deception she would that night have been a bride. “You only deferred the marriage until your father came,” said Mr. Howell, kissing her again, and telling her how, on the morrow, they would go together to Beechwood, and confronting the sinful Geraldine, overthrow her plans. “And you, young man,” he continued, turning to Oliver, “you, it seems, have been the truest friend my Milly ever had. For this I owe you a life-long debt of gratitude; and though I am perhaps too young to have been your father, you shall be to me henceforth a brother. My home shall be your home, and if money can repay you for your kindness, it shall be yours even to tens of thousands.” With a choking voice, Oliver thanked the generous man, thinking to himself the while, that a home far more glorious than any Richard Howell could offer to his acceptance would ere long be his. But he did not say so, and when Mildred, in her old, impulsive way, wound her arms around his neck and said: “Father cannot have you, Olly, for you will stay with me and be my own darling brother,” he gently put her from him saying: “Yes, Milly, as long as I live I will be your brother.”