"Sit down, Mr. Morgan. I thank you. You could not have done less. But give me time to realize what this means. If you are correct, I have a grandson at Ilexhurst"--Edward bowed slightly--"whom my daughter abandoned to the care of a servant." Again Morgan bowed, but by the faintest motion of his head. "I did not say abandoned," he corrected. "It cannot be true," said the old man; "it cannot be true. She was a good girl and even infatuation would not have changed her character. She would have come back to me." "If she could," said Edward. He told him the story of the unfinished manuscript and the picture drawn by Gerald. He was determined to tell him all, except as related to himself. That was his own and Virdow's secret. "If that story is true, she may not have been able to get to you; and then the war came on; you must know all before you can judge." The old soldier was silent. He got up with apparent difficulty and said formally: "Mr. Morgan, I will be glad to have you join me in a glass of wine. I am not as vigorous as I may appear, and this is my time o' day. Come in." Edward noticed that, as he followed, the general's form had lost something of its martial air. No words were exchanged over the little southern ceremony. The general merely lifted his glass slightly and bowed. The room was cool and dark. He motioned Edward to a rocker and sank into his leather-covered easy-chair. There was a minute's silence broken by the elder man. "What is your belief, Mr. Morgan, as to Gerald?" "The facts as stated are all----" "Nevertheless, as man to man--your belief." "Then, in my opinion, the evidence points to Gerald as the child of this woman Rita. I am sure also that it is his own belief. The only disturbing evidence is the likeness, but Virdow says that the children of servants very frequently bear likeness to a mistress. It is a delicate question, but all of our ancestors were not immaculate. Is there anything in the ancestry of Rita Morgan--is there any reason why her child should bear a likeness to--to----" The general lifted his hand in warning. But he said: "What became of the other child?" The question did not disturb or surprise the young man. He expected that it would be asked. It was natural. Yet, prepared as he was, his voice was unsteady when he replied: "That I do not know." "You do not know!" The general's tone of voice was peculiar. Did he doubt? "I had two objects in view when I brought up this subject," said Edward, when the silence grew embarrassing; "one was to acquaint you with the possibilities out at Ilexhurst, and to ask your good offices for Gerald in the event my absence is prolonged or any necessity for assistance should arise. The other is to find the second child if it is living and determine Gerald's status; and, with this as my main object, I venture to ask you if, since her disappearance, you have ever heard of Marion Evan?"