She thankfully obeyed the gesture, for she felt ill and weary, and the sudden shock of learning that her mother was dead, had been a terrible one to her, and had almost stricken her senseless again. In low, pathetic tones, and with many tears, Golden told Richard Leith all that she knew of her mother, and as much as she could of her own lonely life, without revealing the tragic story of her unfortunate love. He listened in silence, although she could see that he was terribly agitated. His white brow was beaded with great drops of sweat, his eyes stared wildly, he bit his lips till the blood started to keep back the groans of pain. When she had finished he went over to her, knelt at her feet, and gently kissed her cold, little hand. "You are my daughter," he said, "and you are the living image of your mother. But until this moment, little Golden, I believed you dead. I wrote to John Glenalvan when my wife ran away from me, and asked him if she had returned to her father. He wrote back that she had done so, that she had given birth to a little daughter, and that the mother and child had both died. Then he added his curse, and threatened, if I ever came near Glenalvan Hall, to shoot me down like a dog." His voice broke huskily a moment. Golden looked at him eagerly. "You said your wife," she faltered. "Was my mother, then, legally married to you? Am I not a----" her voice broke huskily over the word, "a nameless child?" "Your mother was my legal wife, little one. You are my own daughter, born in lawful wedlock. God only knows what crafty and wicked enemy of mine wrote that lying letter to my poor, young wife, telling her that I had deceived her by a mock marriage. She was too credulous, and believed the lie too easily. It was not true. I can give you every proof that your mother was my lawful wife, little Golden." She fell on her knees, and with upraised hands and streaming eyes, thanked God for those precious words. Her mother had been pure and noble. There was no shadow of stain on her daughter's birth. Then, with a sudden, startling thought she confronted him, her white hands clasped in agony, her voice ringing wild and shrill: "John Glenalvan told you that my mother died. He lied! She disappeared very suddenly the night after I was born, and that villain declared that she had deserted me and returned to her sinful life with you. She did not die, and she did not return to you. Oh, my God, where is she now?" She saw that terrible question reflected on her father's face. It whitened to the awful hue of death, and he reeled backward like a smitten man. A faint cry came from Mrs. Leith, who had dropped heavily into a chair. "Oh, Heaven, if she is yet living, what, then, am I?" Richard Leith went to her side, and looked down at her white, scared face, pitifully.