“Nonsense, my dear child! ’Tis you who are mistaken. Why, how could you doubt that you, his only child, inherit Mr. Kemper’s property by natural right, unless he chose to will it, or part of it, to some one else?” She seemed shaken with contending emotions; but controlling herself by a strong effort, and looking with steady, mournful gaze into the eyes of him whom she addressed, “I thought--I believed--oh, I never _doubted_ till the hour that I became doubly orphaned--that I was his own child and--and hers!” She paused for an instant, with her hands tightly clasped over her heart, then went on in lower and more tremulous tones. “But she--my mother--as I must call her still--she told me with her dying breath that--that I was theirs only by adoption.” Mr. Alden, who had been standing, staggered back and dropped into a chair, looking perfectly astounded. “Who--who are you then?” he gasped at length. “I--I do not know, except--” “Never mind, Floy, my own little wife,” whispered Espy, throwing a protecting arm about her and making her lean on him. Then turning to his father, he stated the facts as succinctly as possible. Mr. Alden listened with a grave and troubled air, and, when his son had finished, sat for some moments in silent cogitation. “Well,” he said at length, “this is a rather bad business; and yet--perhaps not so bad as it looks. Floy, how many are in this secret--about your birth, I mean?” “Our three selves only,” she answered. “Good! very good!” he said, rubbing his hands with a complacent smile. “Your sex is not famed for ability to keep secrets, but I’ll trust you for this one.” She gave him a look of surprised inquiry. “So long as you are believed to be Mr. Kemper’s own child,” he went on to explain, “no one will dispute your right to the property, and it’s very considerable, Floy--worth taking some pains to secure.” Her dark eyes opened wide upon him in half-incredulous, indignant surprise, but he gave her no opportunity to speak. “And it is yours of right, for, as we all know, Mr. Kemper intended it for you, and you will only be fulfilling his wishes in retaining possession, which, as the old saying has it,” he added, with an unpleasant laugh, “is nine points of the law.” CHAPTER VII. A WICKED SUGGESTION. “All your attempts Shall fall on me like brittle shafts on armor That break themselves, or like waves against a rock.” MASSINGER. Utter amazement at so base a proposal kept the girl silent for an instant; then releasing herself from Espy’s supporting arm, she stood erect before her tempter, her hands tightly clenched, a crimson tide rushing over the face so pale but a moment ago, the great dark eyes flashing with indignant anger, then filling with tears of deeply wounded feeling.