know who my father is, you had better ask Sir Jasper Kingsland!"

"It is false!" the baronet cried, "I know nothing of you or your
father. I never set eyes on you before."

"Wait, wait, wait!" the Reverend Cyrus Green cried, imploringly. "For
Heaven's sake, young woman, don't make a scene before all these
listeners. We will have your mother conveyed into the vestry until she
recovers; and if she ever recovers, no time is to be lost in attending
to her. Sir Jasper, I think the child had better be sent home
immediately. My lady will wonder at the delay."

A faint wail from the infant lying in the nurse's arms seconded the
suggestion. That feeble cry and the mention of his wife acted as a
magic spell upon the baronet.

"Your mad intruders have startled us into forgetting everything else.
Proceed, nurse. Lady Helen, take my arm. Mr. Carlyon, see to Mildred.
The child looks frightened to death, and little wonder!"

"Little, indeed!" sighed Lady Helen. "I shall not recover from the
shock for a month. It was like a scene in a melodrama--like a chapter
of a sensation novel. And you know that dreadful creature, Sir Jasper?"

"I used to know her," the baronet said, with emphasis, "so many years
ago that I had almost forgotten she ever existed. She was always more
or less mad, I fancy, and it seems hereditary. Her daughter--if
daughter she be--seems as distraught as her mother."

"And her name, Sir Jasper? You called her by some name, I think."