With each second that she felt the little warm body's tender weight
in her arms, Ramona Ortegna's heart had more and more yearned
towards the infant. At these words she bent her face down and
kissed its cheek. "Oh, no! not to the Church! I will love it as my
own," she said.

Angus Phail's face quivered. Feelings long dead within him stirred
in their graves. He gazed at the sad and altered face, once so
beautiful, so dear. "I should hardly have known you, Senora!" burst
from him involuntarily.

She smiled piteously, with no resentment. "That is not strange. I
hardly know myself," she whispered. "Life has dealt very hardly
with me. I should not have known you either -- Angus." She
pronounced his name hesitatingly, half appealingly. At the sound
of the familiar syllables, so long unheard, the man's heart broke
down. He buried his face in his hands, and sobbed out: "O
Ramona, forgive me! I brought the child here, not wholly in love;
partly in vengeance. But I am melted now. Are you sure you wish
to keep her? I will take her away if you are not."

"Never, so long as I live, Angus," replied Senora Ortegna. "Already
I feel that she is a mercy from the Lord. If my husband sees no
offence in her presence, she will be a joy in my life. Has she been
christened?"

Angus cast his eyes down. A sudden fear smote him. "Before I had
thought of bringing her to you," he stammered, "at first I had only
the thought of giving her to the Church. I had had her christened