After the heated atmosphere she had just left, the sharp biting cold was refreshing, and against the glistening needles of snow she pressed rapidly on, until finally the trees in the square gladdened her eyes.

Near one of the corners, stood a large close carriage whose driver was enveloped in a cloak, and protected by an umbrella, while the yellow silk inside curtains were drawn down over the windows.

Agitated by contending emotions of reluctance to meeting the man whose presence was so painful, and of dread lest he had grown impatient, and might present himself to her guardian, Regina hastened into the square, and looked eagerly about the deserted walks.

Pressed against the south side of a leafless tree whose trunk partly shielded him from the driving snow-laden north-east wind, Peleg Peterson stood watching her, and as she approached, he came forward.

“Better late than never.  How long did you expect me to wait here, with the cold eating into my vitals?”

“Indeed I am very sorry, but I could not come a moment sooner.”

“Who is in that carriage yonder?”

“I do not know.  How should I?”

“There is something suspicious about it.  Is it waiting for you?”

“Certainly not, No human being knows where I am at this moment.  Here are forty-five dollars, every cent that I possess.  You must not expect me to aid you in future, for I shall not be able; and moreover I shall be subjected to suspicion if I come here again.”

She handed him the money rolled up in a small package, and he deposited it in his pocket.

“You might at least have made it a hundred.”

“I have no more money.”

“Do you still doubt that you are my child?”

“When you make your claim in a court of justice, as you yesterday threatened, the proofs must be established.  Until then, I shall not discuss it with you.  I have an abiding faith in the instincts of nature, and I believe that when I stand before my father, my heart will unmistakably proclaim it.  From you it shrinks with dread and horror.”

“Because Minnie taught you to hate me.  I knew she would.”

“Mother never mentioned your name to me.  Only to Hannah am I indebted for any knowledge of you.  Where is Hannah now?”

“I don’t know.  We quarrelled not long ago.  Regina, I want your photograph.  I want to wear my daughter’s picture over my heart.”

He moved closer to her, and put out his arm, but she sprang back.

“You must not touch me, at least not now; not until I can hear from mother.  I have no photographs of myself.  The only picture taken for years is a portrait which Mr. Palma had painted, and sent to mother.  In any emergency that may occur, if you should be really ill, or in actual suffering and want, write to me, and address your letter according to the directions on this slip of paper.  Mrs. Mason will always see that your note reaches me safely.