“At last, about seven years ago, a man came among us who had lived near your former home. I immediately sought him and inquired after you and my boy. He told me that which made my blood boil, my heart furious, and realized who the schemer was—your vile brother! He said you returned home the day after I departed, and found a letter from me awaiting you, saying that I was tired of you, pronouncing our marriage a farce, telling you that I did not love you, and had left you forever. In a frenzy of grief and passion, you flew to the little casket where you had always kept our marriage certificate; but, lo! it was gone. “I questioned him closely, asking how you had happened to leave home while I was gone. He said that you had received a letter the very day I left, saying that your father was ill, and you, somewhat alarmed at such an unusual occurrence, hastened to go to him; but finding him more comfortable than you expected, you returned the next day but one, fearing I would miss you. “You found I had been there and gone, leaving, as you believed, that heartless letter behind me. He said you fainted when you read it; and only revived when the cries of the little one attracted the attention of some one passing, who entered, and came to your assistance. Soon after you disappeared, and were only heard from when your brother returned from abroad, bringing our boy with him, saying he had found you in Naples, where, dying, you left Ralph to his care. “These were the facts which I gathered from the man. I immediately closed up my affairs and started for home, nearly heart-broken at the loss of you, and the knowledge of what you must have suffered, believing me false, and resolving to claim my boy, and bring to justice the villain who had thus heartlessly plotted our ruin. “I realized at once why he had done this wicked thing—that he was resolved to destroy the whole family of Ellertons (even to the sacrificing of his only sister), because one of them had married the girl he loved. “The day I arrived in ——, I went directly to Squire Moulton’s house. I was passing up the avenue, with bitter and revengeful thoughts in my heart, when I heard voices within a sort of arbor near by. I stopped to listen, and glancing between the branches I saw you (oh, how it makes my heart ache even now to think of it!) in soiled and tattered garments, pleading with your brother to take you to his heart again, and to give you your child. “I knew you at once by your voice, and by the haughty grace with which you lifted your head when he called you a beggar, and you answered: “‘I am no beggar!’