"She is the one who, of all the world, would have the best right to resemble your daughter," replied Houston; then, in answer to Mr. Cameron's look of perplexed inquiry, he continued: "Pardon me, uncle, for any painful allusion, but at the time of my cousin's death, I believe you had no direct proof as to the fate of her child?" "No absolute proof, of course," replied Mr. Cameron, "only the testimony of those who identified the mother, that there was no child with her, and no child among any of those saved answering to the description given, from which we naturally supposed the little one to have been killed outright. Why, Everard," he exclaimed, as a new thought occurred to him, "you certainly do not think this Edna's child, do you?" "Why might it not be possible?" inquired Houston, wishing to lead his uncle gradually up to the truth. "Is this her home?" asked Mr. Cameron in turn. "Yes," said Houston, "this has been her home, I believe, for the last ten years." "If the supposition mentioned a moment ago were correct, how would she be here, amid such surroundings?" "Do you know the man who runs this house?" Houston asked. "A man by the name of Maverick had charge of it when I was out here years ago; I do not know whether he is still here." "He is; do you know him? Did you ever have any business with him personally?" "Yes, I had him in my employ years ago, in the east, and was obliged to discharge him for dishonesty." "Thereby incurring his life-long hatred and enmity, so that years afterward, he sought to wreak his revenge upon you by stealing from the wrecked train, where your daughter lost her life, the little child who would otherwise have been your solace in that time of bereavement." "Everard!" exclaimed Mr. Cameron, "are you sure you are correct? What proof have you of this?" "The proofs were not discovered until recently," Houston replied, "although we knew that they existed, but now this girl has found a letter from Maverick's wife confessing the whole crime, and stating that it was committed through a spirit of revenge; and she also has in her possession the articles of clothing she wore at the time she was stolen, together with a locket containing her mother's picture and her own name,--Marjorie Lyle Washburn." "That is enough," said Mr. Cameron briefly, "let me see her, Everard." Houston stepped within the house, reappearing a few moments later, with Lyle. Very beautiful she looked as she came forward in the soft radiance of the moonlight, a child-like confidence shining in the lovely eyes. Mr. Cameron rose to meet her, and taking both her hands within his own, he stood for an instant, gazing into the beautiful face. "My dear child, my own Edna!" he said in broken tones, folding her closely within his arms, "Thank God for another child restored to us from the dead!"