Alice, Anna, and the doctor looked aghast, while Mrs. Worthington murmured audibly:  “Adah, Adah, darling Adah, she always seemed near to me; and Willie, precious Willie—­oh, I want them here now!”

One mother had claimed her own, but alas, the fond cry of welcome to sweet Adah Hastings was a death knell to ’Lina, for it seemed to shut her out of that gentle woman’s heart.  There was no place for her, and in her terrible desolation she stood alone, her eyes wandering wistfully from one to another, but turning very quickly when they fell on the white-haired Densie, her mother.  She would not have it so; she could not own the woman she had affected to despise, that servant for her mother, that villain for her father, and worse—­oh, infinitely worse than all—­she had no right to be born!  A child of sin and shame, disgraced, disowned, forsaken.  It was a terrible blow, and the proud girl staggered beneath it.

“Will no one speak to me?” she said, at last; “no one break this dreadful silence?  Has everybody forsaken me?  Do you all loathe and hate the offspring of such parents?  Won’t somebody pity and care for me?”

“Yes, ’Lina,” and Hugh—­the one from whom she had the least right to expect pity—­Hugh came to her side; and winding his arm around her, said, with a choking voice:  “I will not forsake you, ’Lina; I will care for you the same as ever, and so long as I have a home you shall have one, too.”

“Oh, Hugh, I don’t deserve this from you!” was ’Lina’s faint response, as she laid her head upon his bosom, whispering:  “Take me away—­from them all—­upstairs—­on the bed I am so sick, and my head is bursting open!”

Hugh was strong as a young giant, and lifting gently the yielding form, he bore it from the room—­the bridal room, which she would never enter again, until he brought her back—­and laid her softly down beneath the windows, dropping tears upon her white, still face, and whispering: 

“Poor ’Lina!”

As Hugh passed out with his burden in his arms, the bewildered company seemed to rally; but the convict was the first to act.  Turning to Mrs. Worthington he said: 

“Eliza, I am here to-night for my children’s sake; and now that I have done what I came to do, I shall leave you, only asking that you continue to be a mother to the poor girl who is really the only sufferer.  The rest have cause for joy; you in particular,” turning to the doctor, who suddenly seemed to break the spell which had bound him, and springing to his feet, exclaimed: 

“Yes, Lily shall he found, Lily shall be found; but I must see my boy first.  Anna, can’t we go now, to-night?”

That was impossible, Alice said; and as hers was the only clear head in the household, she set herself at once to plan for everybody.  To the convict and the doctor she paid no heed; but the tired Anna was conducted at once to her own room, and made to take the rest she so much needed.  Densie too was cared for kindly, soothingly; for the poor old woman was nearly crushed with all she had heard; and Alice, as she left her upon the bed, heard her muttering deliriously to herself: