"Soon after her marriage it appears that she fled with a lover, leaving the child behind. From what I once saw of Dr. Vernier, I am not very much disposed to lay any heavy sentence upon her; besides, God forbid that I should judge any human creature, especially a woman! However, the lover died, and the mother traced her husband out and begged that she might see her child. With a cruelty which one can scarcely understand, he permitted her to remain in the house with the child strictly on the understanding that her identity was not to be revealed. To that stipulation she seems loyally to have conformed. Of course, as you may readily suppose, when the girl had grown up and her father was dead, the wretched mother naturally shrank from telling her daughter the shameful story, and lived on as before. Now, of course, in a moment her child is swept away from her and she can do nothing. In fact, rightly or wrongly, I advised her for 'Linda's sake to say nothing. And where she has gone I really don't know." "A pitiful story," said Comethup after a pause. "We have, as you say, to think of the girl and of her new position; she has gone out of this woman's life, and I suppose--well, it seems rather hard, doesn't it?" "Not so hard as it might have been. She believes that her daughter is happily married, and----" "Believes!" echoed Comethup. "I beg your pardon; I should have said she knows she is happily married. And that is something of a comfort to her. I think she despaired long since of ever being able to reveal herself to her daughter. And you think that our little 'Linda is really happy?" "Why, of course she is. She married the man she loved," said Comethup quietly. "Well, I suppose she did," said the captain. "And Brian, I understand, is doing well?" "Oh, yes, he's doing well enough," replied Comethup, turning away. He wandered again in the garden of her old house the next night. Medmer Theed may have been lurking among the trees, but he did not see him. Coming out, when it was very late, into the street, he found the old captain pacing up and down before the gate, with his long military cloak about him, and his hands clasped under it behind his back. They walked on slowly down the road together. It seemed almost a natural thing that he should be there, and for some time Comethup said nothing. At last, looking round, he said slowly, "I suppose you think I'm a fool, sir?" "God forbid!" said the old man, staring straight in front of him as he walked. "A man's got to fight this sort of thing out alone, and with what strength God may give him. Come home, boy; to-morrow--oh, it hurts me to part from you--but to-morrow you must go to London."