“I did not ring, Mrs. Laurence; I wished to find you alone. Look at this, and tell me if it is positively the shawl that came around that child, and that you put in pledge?” Mrs. Laurence wiped her moist hands on a towel, and unfolded the shawl. “Of course it’s the same shawl, wherever it came from. There is no mistake about that. I can swear to the curl in every one of these long leaves.” “It is then absolutely the garment that came around the child you adopted?” “Yes; I am ready to swear to it, if that is what you want.” “No; there is no need of that.” Again Ross folded up the shawl, and left the house, passing swiftly through the yard, and looking at Ruth, who sat at the window, without a consciousness of her presence. Mrs. Carter and Eva were still in the reception-room. The pawnbroker had retreated to the hall, where he sat on one of the carved chairs, crouching uneasily forward, and holding a rusty hat clenched in his hand. His eyes were full of hungry anxiety; for the reward which he had hoped for seemed slipping from his grasp. Still he waited, in abject patience, determined to press his claims to the utmost. In less than half an hour the man started, and listened with the vigilance of a house-dog. A latch-key turned in the street-door, and Mr. Ross came in. He stopped on seeing the pawnbroker, and asked sharply what he waited for? then checked himself, and muttered, “Ah! I remember. You want the reward. How much was it?” The man started up, and began to speak eagerly. But Ross lifted his hand. “The amount?—name it. I ask nothing more; that which I promised you shall have.” “Without regard to the price paid by the lady?” “Without regard to anything. I am not disposed to cavil over a thing like this.” The pawnbroker paused, calculated, and looked keenly at his victim, sorely tempted to double the original sum promised him. But there was something in the eyes fixed upon him which checked the idea, and he named what had been his most exorbitant demand. “Wait!” With this single word, Ross went swiftly upstairs, and came down again with a check in his hand. The man started up, seized the paper, glanced over it, and hurried from the house, with a greedy light in his eyes. Ross turned into the reception-room, stood a moment on the threshold, pale, trembling, and with a look of wild yearning in his eyes. Eva, came toward him, smiling. “Do tell us what makes you so anxious, Mr. Ross——” The girl broke off with a cry of dismay, for Ross had flung his arms around her, and was straining her to his heart with wild vehemence. “My child! My darling! My own, own beautiful child!” The man was raining kisses upon her forehead, which was wet with his tears. Mrs. Carter started up, and with her two shaking hands attempted to tear the man and girl apart. “Herman! Herman! Are you crazy? And she under this roof, under my care! Give her up, I say!”