Laurie Meredith no longer thought of taking his child to his mother, now that he knew that Flower had been the victim of a cruel plot; for he began to believe that if all could be cleared up between them, she would gladly come back to his loyal heart.

He knew that Lord Ivon and his party were in Washington, and he determined to go there with the child and try his fate.

Curbing his impatience by awkward yet loving efforts to amuse the bright, intelligent little Douglas, who grieved after Poky and Sam, the only friends his young life had ever known, he journeyed to Washington, and on arriving there went at once to Willard's Hotel, where he secured a room for himself and his quaintly dressed little son.

He had heard nothing of his mother's being in Washington, and it was a startling event to him when he suddenly came face to face with her as he was going along a corridor to his room—a more startling event to her, for she flung her arms impetuously about his neck, exclaiming, wildly:

"Laurie! Oh, my son—alive, alive! Thank the good God for His mercies!"

He returned her embrace with interest; then drew her into his room, and seating her in an arm-chair, said tenderly:

"Dear mother, this is a pleasant surprise; I did not know you were in Washington."

"I came here almost two weeks ago with Jewel Fielding. She made me come. She thought you were here—that you had followed Miss Brooke. Oh, Laurie, dear, how glad I am that you escaped that terrible man! He would have killed you if he had found you. Oh, it has all been so dreadful, and we have suffered torments about you! But, oh, dear! my son, where did that strange-looking child come from? Is it a ghost? I never saw it till this minute."

Laurie turned to her with a serious, puzzled face, and answered:

"Mother, I've been tempted to believe you were crazy, the way you've been running on, and I fear you'll think the same of me when I tell you this boy is my own child. Forgive me for keeping a secret from you so long, but I've been married going upon four years, and this is Douglas Meredith, your own little grandson."

"Married?" she echoed, without half so much surprise as he had expected, and again winding her arms about his neck she kissed his brow, and said, solemnly:

"I knew it could not be true what Jewel said, that you had wronged her sister. I knew my boy was too noble to commit such a terrible sin!"

"When you have welcomed your grandson, mother, you shall explain all this mysterious talk," he said; for he comprehended that she had learned something of his and Flower's sad story.

"It is Flower's child?" she said; and when he answered yes she took little Douglas into her arms and fondly caressed him while hurriedly telling her son all that had happened since his hurried departure for the South.

He in his turn confided to her everything, and ended by asking anxiously if she thought it likely that Flower would ever care for him again when she learned the treachery by which they had been parted.

"Miss Brooke is very ill, Laurie. It is a slow fever, the doctor says. She has been in bed ever since that dreadful scene three days ago when Lord Clive started out to kill you."

"I am very glad I escaped his blood-thirsty lordship," he said, with a faint smile. "But, mother, are they going to let me see her soon?"

"I think they will, for that clever maid of Flower's got back from Boston yesterday with some papers she had stolen from Jewel's trunk, and among them was the long-missing marriage-certificate. Oh, my son, you can not think how glad those dear old people were to find out that Flower was really your wife—and, oh, by the way," with a start, "this little boy, with his funny dress, and solemn eyes, your son, dear, will inherit the title and estates after old Lord Ivon."

"I can not think of that yet, dear mother, my heart is full of my wife."

"Yes, dear boy, I know, and presently I will break it all to her, and let you go into her room. But I have so much to tell you, and you had better hear it first. Be patient a little while, please."

"I will listen, mother, because you insist on it; but I can not promise to be patient," he answered, gravely.

"But, Laurie, it is better I should tell you, for if I do not, Flower will insist on telling all herself, and she is too weak for that. It is only this: Among the papers that Jewel Fielding had hidden away was the diary of that poor, weak Charley Fielding—a book like himself, full of good and evil. And what do you think? Why, it was Flower's mother after all who was his legal wife."

"Mother!" radiantly.

"Yes," she said, hurrying on. "But he treated her badly, poor thing. It was a secret marriage, and when she begged to have it made public, to save her fair fame, he quarreled with her, and declared that the marriage ceremony had been a sham. Then he married the heiress for her money. But she was so jealous she made him repent of his sin. Oh, it would make you weep to read the poor, erring soul's diary, it is so full of grief and remorse, and—well he killed himself, you know."

"Yes," he said, then his splendidly handsome face grew dark with anger. "And to think," he said, bitterly, "that Jewel Fielding knew all this yet could be capable of such infamous cruelty!"

Mrs. Meredith's face grew solemn.

"Poor Jewel, you must not think too hardly of her, Laurie," she said, with womanly compassion. "Remember the jealous nature and the taint of madness that she inherited from her mother. Remember her fatal love for you that set into active motion the wickedest elements of her strange nature."

"I can remember all; but it will still be impossible for me to forgive her all that she made my darling suffer," he replied.

"But, Laurie, dear, she is raving mad, and has been so ever since Lord Clive went away declaring that he would kill you for the wrong you had done to Flower."

"It was very noble in Lord Clive. I should have deserved death if I had done as Jewel Fielding said I had," he replied.

"So Jewel is incurably insane," went on Mrs. Meredith. "She believes that Lord Clive killed you, and she hates Flower so terribly that she is always crying out for her sister's life. Is it not horrible? But she will be removed to an asylum to-morrow, and the physicians declare that she will never regain her senses. But, oh, Laurie, what do you think she did to cap the climax of her evil deeds?"

"I can not imagine what more horrible thing she could have committed," her son replied.

"Could you not? Well, that wretched mother of hers, who was sent to the lunatic asylum, you know, regained her senses more than two years ago, but Jewel, by the connivance of a wicked physician, would not permit her to return to the world again. Our sweet Flower found it out through a letter that Jewel dropped accidentally, and—"

"Hasten, mother," he interposes, imploringly.

"Yes," said Mrs. Meredith—"so we have got her out of the asylum. She is here with us, so changed, so penitent, and so fond of Flower, and grateful for getting out of her prison. She has forgiven Charley Fielding since she read his diary, and found out all that he suffered in his terrible remorse for his sin. But, Laurie, the only amusing thing of all that has happened was that Io fell in love with Lord Clive because he took Flower's part so bravely and was going to kill you. She declares he is the greatest hero in the world."

"I hope she will console him for Flower's loss; but, mother, how you gossip when you know—"

She did not wait to hear the sentence finished, but went out, and stayed fifteen minutes, that seemed like fifteen years to her son's impatient heart.

Then she came back and led him and little Douglas to a room a little lower down the corridor. She opened the door, and Laurie saw a lovely, pale face lying back upon a pillow, a smile of welcome on the tender lips. With a wildly throbbing heart he went in and closed the door.

Went in to find once more a love and happiness lost so long, but regained now for all time and all eternity.

THE END.