Mr. Andrew Vanstone in his youth had joined the army and gone to Canada.  There he had been entrapped by a woman, whom he had married—­a woman so utterly vile and unprincipled that he was forced to leave her and return to England.  Shortly afterwards his father died, and, having been estranged from his elder son, Michael Vanstone, bequeathed all his property to Andrew.

Andrew Vanstone passed his life in a round of vicious pleasures, but as his better nature had almost been destroyed by a woman, so now it was retrieved by a woman.  He fell in love, told the girl of his heart the truth about himself, and she, out of the love she bore him, determined to pass the rest of her life by his side, and Norah and Magdalen were the children of their union.

“Tell me,” said Miss Garth, in a voice faint with emotion, as the lawyer laid bare the sad story, “why did they go to London?”

“They went to London to be married,” cried Mr. Pendril.

In the letter from New Orleans, Mr. Vanstone had heard of the death of his wife, and he had at once taken the necessary steps to make the woman who had so long been his wife in the eyes of God his wife in the eyes of the law.  The story would never have been known had it not been for Frank’s engagement to Magdalen.  The soul of honour, Mr. Vanstone thought it his duty to inform Mr. Clare fully regarding his relations with Mrs. Vanstone.  His old friend proved himself deeply sympathetic, and then, being a cautious man of business, inquired what steps Mr. Vanstone had taken to provide for his daughters.  The master of Coombe-Raven replied that he had long ago made a will leaving them all he possessed.  When Mr. Clare pointed out that his recent marriage automatically destroyed the effect of this testament, he was greatly distressed, and, hastening home, had at once telegraphed to Mr. Pendril to come to Coome-Raven to draw up another will without any loss of time.  His tragic death had prevented the execution of this plan, and the inability of Mrs. Vanstone to sign any document before she died had resulted in Norah and Magdalen being left absolutely penniless, and the estates passing to Michael Vanstone.

“How am I to tell them?” exclaimed Miss Garth.

“There is no need to tell them,” said a voice behind her.  “They know it already.  Mr. Vanstone’s daughters are ‘nobody’s children,’ and the law leaves them helpless at their uncle’s mercy!”

It was Magdalen who spoke—­Magdalen, with a changeless stillness on her white face, and an icy resignation in her steady, grey eyes.  From under the open window of the room in which Mr. Pendril had told his story this girl of eighteen had heard every word, and never once betrayed herself.

“I understand that my late brother”—­so ran Michael Vanstone’s letter of instruction to his solicitor—­“has left two illegitimate children, both of them young women who are of an age to earn their own livelihood.  Be so good as to tell them that neither you nor I have anything to do with questions of mere sentiment.  Let them understand that Providence has restored to me the inheritance that ought always to have been mine, and I will not invite retribution on my own head by assisting those children to continue the imposition which their parents practised, and by helping them to take a place in the world to which they are not entitled.”