She gave him one earnest look, then dropping her eyes, seemed lost in thought for several minutes. "Yes," she said at length, "I think you are right. And she has passed this trying ordeal safely?" "Yes." Clasping her hands in her lap and lifting her eyes to heaven, "I thank thee, oh my Father, for that," she murmured in tones so low that the words scarcely reached Kenneth's ear. He stood looking down upon her with loving, compassionate eyes. Ah, if it were but in his power to remove every thorn from her path! That might not be, but her face had resumed its wonted expression of sweet and calm submission. She glanced up at him, her fine eyes full of affectionate pride. "You have told me nothing yet of yourself, Kenneth. How fares it with you, my boy? Sit down here by my side and open all your heart to me as you used to do. I see you have something to tell," she added, watching the changes of his countenance as he took the offered chair, "something of joy and something of sorrow." "Yes, mother, I have learned that long sought secret, and it brings me both gladness and grief," he answered with emotion. "You have found her?" she asked in almost breathless, half credulous astonishment. "Yes, mother, Reumah Clark, and--" "Wait one moment," she faltered, pressing her hand to her heart. He knelt at her side and threw an arm about her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder, heaving a gentle sigh. "Now," she whispered, "tell me all. Oh, that terrible, terrible day. I can never recall it without a shudder." His story did not go back to the scenes of that dreadful day on which he first saw the light. He merely gave a brief account of his interview with Reumah Clark, confining himself chiefly to her explanation of the mark which proved his identity, and her assertion that she had looked for and seen it at the time of his birth. Mrs. Clendenin raised her head, showing a face radiant with joy and thankfulness. "Oh, my dear boy, what glad news for you, what a burden removed! And yet--Ah, I am not the happy mother of such a son!" and her eyes filled with tears. "No, that is the bitter drop in the cup, sweet mother, for I must still call you so, unless you forbid it. And, thank God, we are of the same blood." "Yes, yes, my own mother's child by birth, mine own by adoption, we are very near and dear to one another," she whispered, clinging to him in a close and tender embrace. For a moment there was utter silence between them, then she spoke musingly, as if half talking to him, half thinking aloud. "I have often wondered over that mark, but could find no clue to it, for my mother never mentioned the occurrence to me, and I knew nothing of the mark upon Clark's arm. Ah, had I known, how much of anxiety and mental suffering might have been spared us both!" "Yes," he assented with almost a groan, thinking of his lost love. She saw the anguish in his face and with tender questioning at length drew the whole story from him.