“How dare you interfere in such matters!” he asked, in a voice that quavered with suppressed rage.  “What right have you to come between me and a woman, an ignorant, immoral creature, whose very presence is contamination?”

“Ignorant, illiterate—­yes; but a braver, truer, more loving spirit never breathed.  I count it a privilege to know her.  Surely she has suffered enough for a sister’s sin!”

“My life has been poisoned,” he muttered.  “I was robbed at once of my son and of my profession, for I dared not preach what I could not practise—­forgiveness.  Leave me, sir.”

“I beg your pardon,” said I bitterly.  “If you turn a deaf ear to this” (I touched his Bible), “and these” (I tore open the parcel, and spread Gloriana’s handiwork upon the table), “how can I expect you to listen to me?”

“You are in possession of all the facts, sir.  Don’t presume to judge me.  Go—­and take these things with you.  It has been the object of my life to keep my granddaughter and this woman apart.  I allowed her to work for the child, but the clothes she has been sending I have given to—­others.  Already, despite my efforts, she suspects that there is some unhappy mystery about her birth.”

* * * * *

Ajax met me on the threshold of our cheerless hotel parlour, and listened confounded to my story.  As we sat smoking and talking the bell-boy ushered in Gloriana.  When she caught sight of her precious parcel she gasped with satisfaction.

“I’m most choked,” she panted, “in trying ter get here in time.  I reckon I run most o’ the way.  Ever since ye set me down I’ve bin tryin’ studyin’ an’ worryin’.  I don’t want ye,” she turned an anxious face to mine, “ter speak ter Doctor Standish to-night, fer it might onsettle Miriam.  Good land o’ Peter, how short my breath is!  Ye see ther couldn’t be room in the child’s heart jest now fer me an’ the Professor.  An’ when that ther idee took aholt it seemed as if I couldn’t rest till I saw ye.  I’m mighty glad I was in time.”

The words fell from her lips in sobs and gasps.

“It’s all right,” said Ajax.  “Sit down, Gloriana.  You deserve a scolding.”

As he spoke she sank upon the couch, and tugged convulsively at the white linen band around her throat.

“She is ill,” whispered Ajax.  “Run for assistance—­quick!”

I chanced to meet the bell-boy, and dispatched him in search of a physician.  Unable to discriminate between doctors of medicine and divinity, the youth summoned in hot haste Doctor Standish.  His granddaughter, learning that a woman was in sore distress, accompanied him.  They entered the room together.  The Doctor motioned the girl back, but she hastened forward, and, looking with infinite compassion into the poor twisted face, took Gloriana’s hands in hers.  Some one administered brandy and spirits of ammonia.

“How did this happen?” said the Doctor aside to me.