received.

Tenderly and respectfully, Mrs. Linley addressed herself to her
mother. "When we last met, I thought you spoke rashly and
cruelly. I know now that there was truth--_some_ truth, let me
say--in what offended me at the time. If you felt strongly, it
was for my sake. I wish to beg your pardon; I was hasty, I was
wrong."

On an occasion when she had first irritated and then surprised
him, Randal Linley had said to Mrs. Presty, "You have got a
heart, after all!" Her reply to her daughter showed that view of
her character to be the right one. "Say no more, my dear," she
answered "_I_ was hasty; _I_ was wrong."

The words had barely fallen from her lips, before Herbert
returned. He was followed by Sydney Westerfield.

The governess stopped in the middle of the room. Her head sank on
her breast; her quick convulsive breathing was the only sound
that broke the silence. Mrs. Linley advanced to the place in
which Sydney stood. There was something divine in her beauty as
she looked at the shrinking girl, and held out her hand.

Sydney fell on her knees. In silence she lifted that generous
hand to her lips. In silence, Mrs. Linley raised her--took the
writing which testified to her character from the table--and
presented it. Linley looked at his wife, looked at the governess.
He waited--and still neither the one nor the other uttered a
word. It was more than he could endure. He addressed himself to