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«LITTLE GOLDEN'S DAUGHTER. 95
** Pure!” the girl repeated, blankly. ‘“‘ She was never your wife,
i They told me she lived with you in open shame.”
i . A startling change came over the face of Richard Leith,
4 There was a glare, like that of madness, in his eyes.
i He fell backward into a chair, and the labored breath came
. a from between his parted hps in strong, shuddering sighs.
i _ Mrs. Leith flew to his side, and bent anxiously over him,
i “Mr. Leith, what is it? _What does ‘all this mean? Iam mys-
hee tified,” she cried.
Fi His heavy, dark eyes full of sorrow and despair, lifted gloomily
Re . to her wondering face.
pa - “It means,” he replied, ‘tthat I have had asecret in my hfe,
and that the time is come for you to know it. If this girl speaks
} truly she is indeed my daughter, though not yours.”
i ** Not hers!’ echoed Golden, in bewilderment, as she looked at
the beautiful woman whom she had for long weeks believed to
be her mother.
‘*‘ Not hers,” he replied, ‘for long before I met and married
this lady, little Golden Glenalvan was dead.”
EH - A-startled cry came from Golden’s lips.
ie a ‘ Dead,” she shuddered; “‘no, no; you are deceiving me.”
1 ~ Not so, as God is my judge,” he replied. ‘ But sit down,
pe child, and tell me all your story. Then we may be able to undcr-
stand each other.”
pel Golden glanced half-fearfully at Mrs. Leith, who stood leaning
shel against her husband’s chair, pale and silent, and anxious-looking.
Y .The lady quietly and gravely motioned her to a seat.
and the sudden shock of learning that her mother was dead, had
been a terrible one to her, and had almost stricken her sense-
less again.
In low, pathetic tones, and with many tears, Golden told Rich-
ard Leith all that she knew of her mother, and as much as she
of her unfortunate love.
He listened in silence, although she-could see that he was ter-
ribly agitated. .
be His white brow was beaded with great drops of sweat, his eyes
had stared wildly, he bit his lips till the blood started to keep back
the groans of pain. .
When she had finished he went over to her, knelt at her feet,
and gently kissed her cold, little hand.
_ “You are my daughter,” he said, ‘‘and you are the living
image of your mother. - But until this moment, little Golden, I
believed you dead. I wrote to John Glenalvan when my wife
ran away from me, and asked. him if she had returned to her
father. He wrote back that she had done so, that she had given
birth to a little daughter, and that the mother and child had
both died. . Then he added his curse, and-threatened, if I ever
came near Glonalvan Hall, to shoot me down like a dog.”
eagerly. wig Pots ’
“You said your wife,” she faltered. ‘ Was my mother, then,
She thankfully obeyed the gesture, for she felt ill and weary, -
could of her own lonely life, without revealing the tragic story -
His voice broke huskily a moment. Golden looked at him |
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