"His wife? What was she to me? Besides, had she not taken him for better or worse? Why should I have helped her to break the bonds her own vows had imposed on her? He did not ill-treat her, far from it. He deprived her of her liberty, but what of that? A nun has even less freedom than she had. What were her sufferings compared to mine? Think of it, day after day I had to stand aside and watch the man I had once looked upon as my husband, lavish his love, his thought, his very life indeed, on that pretty doll. Although I no longer loved him, my flesh quivered at the sight." "Nevertheless--" began Cyril. "My lord, I care not for your judgment nor for that of any man. I came here to find my son. Would you have had me give up that sacred task because a pink and white baby wanted to flaunt her beauty before the world? Ah, no! Lady Wilmersley's fate troubles me not at all; but what breaks my heart is that, as Arthur died just before the three years were up, I fear that now I shall never know what has become of my boy. Sometimes I have feared that he is dead--but no, I will not believe it! My boy lives! I feel it!" she cried, striking her breast. "And in this room--perhaps within reach of my hand as I stand here--is the paper which would tell me where he is. Ah, my lord, I beg, I entreat you to help me to find it!" "I will gladly do so, but what reason have you for supposing that there is such a paper?" "It is true that I have only Lord Wilmersley's word for it," she replied, and her voice sounded suddenly hopeless. "Yet not once but many times he said to me: 'I have a paper in which is written all you wish to know, but as I do not trust you, I have hidden it, yes, in this very room have I hidden it.' And now he is dead and I cannot find it! Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" "Even if we cannot find the paper, there are other means of tracing your son. We will advertise----" "Never!" she interrupted him vehemently. "I will never consent to do anything which might reveal to him the secret of his birth. I would long ago have taken steps to find him, if I had not realised that I could not do so without taking a number of people into my confidence, and, if I did that, the story of my shame would be bound to leak out. Not for myself did I care, but for him. Think of it, if what Lord Wilmersley told me was true, he holds an honourable position, believes himself the son of respectable parents. Would it not be horrible, if he should suddenly learn that he is the nameless child of a servant girl and a villain? The fear that he should somehow discover the truth is always before me. That is why I made you swear to keep my secret." "Of course, I will do as you wish, but I assure you that you exaggerate the risk. Still, let us first search this room thoroughly; then, if we do not find the paper, it will be time enough to decide what we shall do next."