"It's your brother Dick, dearie. Don't you know him?"

The child's lips moved faintly. "Dick's dead," she whispered.

"She's wandering," said Mrs. Ricketts. "Speak to her." But Bob, with
his eyes on the child's, lifted a protesting hand. The little sufferer's
lips moved again. "It isn't Dick--it's the angel God sent to tell me."

She spoke no more. And when Miss Boutelle returned with the doctor she
was beyond the reach of finite voices. Falloner would have remained all
night with them, but he could see that his presence in the contracted
household was not desired. Even his offer to take Jimmy with him to the
hotel was declined, and at midnight he returned alone.

What his thoughts were that night may be easily imagined. Cissy's death
had removed the only cause he had for concealing his real identity.
There was nothing more to prevent his revealing all to Miss Boutelle and
to offer to adopt the boy. But he reflected this could not be done until
after the funeral, for it was only due to Cissy's memory that he should
still keep up the role of Dick Lasham as chief mourner. If it seems
strange that Bob did not at this crucial moment take Miss Boutelle into
his confidence, I fear it was because he dreaded the personal effect
of the deceit he had practiced upon her more than any ethical
consideration; she had softened considerably in her attitude towards him
that night; he was human, after all, and while he felt his conduct had
been unselfish in the main, he dared not confess to himself how much her
opinion had influenced him. He resolved that after the funeral he would
continue his journey, and write to her, en route, a full explanation of
his conduct, inclosing Daddy's letter as corroborative evidence. But on
searching his letter-case he found that he had lost even that evidence,