“I’m sure, grandmother.”  He recalled how a few hours earlier at the Grantham the demand of Old Jimmie that she remain with him had seemed the force that had controlled her decision.  “There would be no doubt of it if it were not for Old Jimmie, and the people he’s kept her among, and the ideas he’s been feeding her since she was a baby.  I don’t think she has any love for her father; but they say blood is mighty thick and I guess with her it’s just the usual instinct of a child to stand with her father and do what he says.  Yes, if she were not held back and held down by having Old Jimmie for a father, I’m sure she’d be all right.”

The Duchess felt that the moment had now arrived for her to unloose her secret.  But despite her fixed purpose to tell, her words had to be forced out, and were halting, bald.

“Jimmie Carlisle—­is not her father.”

“What’s that?” exclaimed Larry.

“Not so loud.  I said Jimmie Carlisle is not her father.”

“Grandmother!”

“Her father is Joe Ellison.”

“Grandmother!” He caught her hands.  “Why—­why—­” But for a moment his utter dumbfoundment paralyzed his speech.  “You’re—­you’re sure of that?” he finally got out.

“Yes.”  She went on and told of how her suspicion had been aroused, of her interview with Joe Ellison which had transmuted suspicion into certainty, of her theory of the motives which had actuated Jimmie Carlisle in so perverting the directions of the man who had held Jimmie as his most trusted friend.

Larry was fairly stunned by this recital of what had been done.  And he was further stunned as he realized the fullness of what now seemed to be the circumstances.

“God, think of it!” he breathed.  “Maggie trying to be a great adventuress because she was brought up that way, because she thinks her father wants her to be that—­and having never a guess of the truth!  And Joe Ellison believing that his daughter is a nice, simple girl, happily ignorant of the life he tried to shield her from—­and having never a guess of the truth!  What a situation!  And if they should ever find out—­”

He broke off, appalled by the power and magnitude of what he vaguely saw.  Presently he said in a numbed, awed voice: 

“They should know the truth.  But how are they to find out?”

“I’m leaving all that to you, Larry.  Maggie and Joe Ellison are your affair.  It’s up to you to decide what you think best to do.”

Larry was silent for several moments.  “You’ve known this for some time, grandmother?”

“For several weeks.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was afraid it might somehow bring you closer to Maggie, and I didn’t want that,” she answered honestly.  “Now I think a little better of Maggie.  And you’ve proved to me I can trust a great deal more to your judgment.  Yes, I guess that’s the chief reason I’ve come out here to tell you this:  you’ve proved to me I’ve got to respect your judgment.  And so whatever you may do—­about Maggie or anything else—­ will be all right with me.”