Mr. King then went on to say:  “Your father was Mr. Gerald Fitzgerald, a planter in Georgia.  You have a right to his name, and I will so introduce you to my friends, if you wish it.  He inherited a handsome fortune, but lost it all by gambling and other forms of dissipation.  He had several children by various mothers.  You and the Gerald with whom you became acquainted were brothers by the father’s side.  You are unmixed white; but you were left in the care of a negro nurse, and one of your father’s creditors seized you both, and sold you into slavery.  Until a few months before you were acquainted with Gerald, it was supposed that you died in infancy; and for that reason no efforts were made to redeem you.  Circumstances which I am not at liberty to explain led to the discovery that you were living, and that Gerald had learned your history as a slave.  I feel the strongest sympathy with your misfortunes, and cherish a lively gratitude for your kindness to my young friend Gerald.  All that I have told you is truth; and if it were in my power, I would most gladly tell you the whole truth.”

The young man listened with the deepest interest; and, having expressed his thanks, said he should prefer to be called by his father’s name; for he thought he should feel more like a man to bear a name to which he knew that he had a right.

* * * * *

When Mr. King again returned to his Boston home, as soon as the first eager salutations were over, he exclaimed:  “How the room is decorated with vines and flowers!  It reminds me of that dear floral parlor in New Orleans.”

“Didn’t you telegraph that you were coming?  And is it not your birthday?” inquired his wife.

He kissed her, and said:  “Well, Rosabella, I think you may now have a tranquil mind; for I believe things have been so arranged that no one is very seriously injured by that act of frenzy which has caused you so much suffering.  George will not be deprived of any of his pecuniary rights; and he is in a fair way to become more of a man than he would have been if he had been brought up in luxury.  He and Henriet are as happy in their prospects as two mortals well can be.  Gerald enjoyed his short life; and was more bewildered than troubled by the discovery that he had two mothers.  Eulalia was a tender, romantic memory to him; and such, I think, he has become to our child.  I don’t believe Mrs. Fitzgerald suffered much more than annoyance.  Gerald was always the same to her as a son; and if he had been really so, he would probably have gone to the war, and have run the same chance of being killed.”

“Ah, Alfred,” she replied, “I should never have found my way out of that wretched entanglement if it had not been for you.  You have really acted toward me the part of Divine Providence.  It makes me ashamed that I have not been able to do anything in atonement for my own fault, except the pain I suffered in giving up my Gerald to his Lily-mother.  When I think how that poor babe became enslaved by my act, I long to sell my diamonds, and use the money to build school-houses for the freedmen.”