The young man regarded her with astonishment, for she had never greeted him so warmly before.

Edith saw his look and met it with a blush. She took his hat, then led him directly to Mrs. Stewart.

"Roy, you will be astonished," she remarked, "but my first duty is to introduce you to—my mother."

With a look of blank amazement, the young man mechanically put out his hand to greet the beautiful woman who approached and graciously welcomed him.

"That was rather an abrupt and startling announcement, Mr. Bryant," she smilingly remarked, to cover his confusion; "but pray be seated and we will soon explain the mysterious situation."

"Pardon my bewilderment," said the young man, as he bowed over her extended hand; "but really, ladies, I am free to confess that you have almost taken my breath away."

"Then you will know how to sympathize with us," cried Edith, with a silvery little laugh, "for we have both been in the same condition during the last few hours."

"Indeed! Then I must say you look very bright for a person who has not breathed for 'hours,'" he retorted, as he began to recover himself.

"Well, figuratively speaking, our respiration has been retarded many times, during a short interval, by the strangest developments imaginable," Edith explained. "But how did you trace me to the Waldorf?"

"I had something important to tell you, so ran up to Nellie's to see you, but was told that you had accompanied Mrs. Stewart thither," Roy explained. "I hope, however, I shall be pardoned for interrupting your interview," he concluded with an apologetic glance at the elder lady.

"Certainly; and, strange to say, we were speaking of you almost at the moment that your card was brought to us," she returned. "Edith has had an important communication handed her to-day, which I thought you ought to have, since you are her attorney, without any unnecessary delay."

"Oh! it is most wonderful, Roy! This is it," said the young girl, producing it from her pocket. "But first I must tell you that in Mrs. Stewart I have discovered mamma's old friend—the writer of those letters of which I told you. She did not die in Rome, as was feared."

"Can that be possible?" exclaimed Mr. Bryant.

"Yes, dear. It is a long story, and I cannot stop to tell it all now," Edith went on, eagerly, "but I must explain that she has discovered an important document that proves what makes me the happiest girl in New York to-day. We met at Mrs. Wallace's this afternoon, where some one addressed me as Miss Allandale, when she instantly knew that I must be her child. Isn't it all too wonderful to seem true?"

After chatting a little longer over the wonderful revelations, he suddenly remembered the "important communication" which Mrs. Stewart had mentioned.

"What was the matter of business which you felt needed early consideration?" he inquired.

Instantly Edith's lovely face was suffused with blushes, and Mrs. Stewart, thinking it would be wise to leave the lovers alone during the forthcoming explanations, excused herself and quietly slipped into an adjoining room.

Edith immediately went to the young man's side and gave her letter to him.

"Roy, this is even more wonderful than what I have already told you," she gravely remarked. "Read it; it will explain itself better than any words of mine can do."

He drew the contents from the envelope, and began at once to read the following confession:

"For the sake of performing one right act in my life, I wish to make the following statement, namely: I hereby declare that the marriage of my brother, Emil Correlli, to Miss Edith Allen, who, for several weeks, has acted as my companion, was not a legal ceremony, inasmuch as it was accomplished solely by fraud and treachery. Miss Allen was tricked into it by being overpersuaded to personate a supposed character in a play, entitled 'The Masked Bridal.' The play was written and acted before a large audience for the sole purpose of deceiving Miss Allen and making her the wife of my brother, whom she had absolutely refused to marry, but who was determined to carry his point at all hazards. Motives of affection for him, and of jealousy, on account of my husband's apparent fondness for the girl, alone prompted me to aid him in his bold design. I hereby declare again that it was all a trick, from beginning to end, and it was only by my indomitable will, and by working upon Miss Allen's sympathies, that I was enabled to carry out my purpose." (Then followed a detailed account of the plot of the play and its concluding ceremony, after which the document closed as follows): "I am impressed that I have not long to live; and wishing, if it can be done, to right this great wrong, and make it possible for the proper officials to declare Miss Allen freed from her bonds, I make this confession of a fraud that weighs too heavily upon my conscience to be borne.

"Anna Correlli Goddard."

The above was dated the day previous to that of madam's death, and underneath she had appended a few lines to Mr. Goddard, stating that she knew he was in sympathy with Edith; therefore she should leave the epistle with her lawyer, to be given to him, in the event of her death, and she enjoined him to see that justice was done the girl whom she had injured.

This was the missive that the lawyer had passed to Mr. Goddard at the same time that he had read the woman's will in the presence of her husband and Emil Correlli, and over which, as we have seen, he afterward became so strangely agitated.

We know how he had hurriedly removed from his former elegant home to a habitation on another street; after which, instead of going abroad, as the papers had stated, he had gone directly to New York, upon the same quest as Emil Correlli, but with a very different purpose in view—that of giving to Edith the precious document that was to declare her free from the man whom she loathed.

He could get no trace of her, however; unlike Correlli, he had no knowledge of her acquaintance with Royal Bryant, and therefore all he could do was to carry the letter about with him, wherever he went, in the hope of some day meeting her upon the street, or elsewhere.

One day he was out at Central Park, when he suddenly came upon a former friend—Mrs. Wallace—who immediately announced to him her intention of arranging a charitable art exhibition and solicited contributions from him to aid her in the good work.

Thus the appearance of that bit of old "Roman Wall" is accounted for, as well as the presence of Mr. Goddard himself, who was particularly requested by Mrs. Wallace to honor the occasion, and allow her to introduce him to some of her friends.

It would be difficult to describe the terrible shock which the man sustained when he heard Edith addressed by and respond to the name—Miss Allandale.

Like a flash of light it was revealed to him that the beautiful girl was his own daughter!—that, in her, he had, for months, been "entertaining an angel unawares," but only to abuse his privilege in a way to reap her lasting contempt and aversion.

This blighting knowledge was followed by a sense of sickening despair and misery, when, almost at the same moment, he saw Isabel Stewart start forward to claim her child and lead her from the room, when he knew she must learn the wretched truth regarding his life of selfishness and sin.

As they disappeared from sight, he sank back behind the easel that supported his Roman picture, groaning in spirit with remorse and humiliation.

A little later he stole unseen from the room, and, crossing the hall, opened the door of the reception-room, which he had seen Edith and her mother enter.

He had determined to give the young girl the letter that would serve to release her from her hateful fetters; he would, perhaps, experience some comfort in the thought that he had rendered her this one simple service that would bring her happiness; then he would go away—hide himself and his misery from all who knew him, and live out his future to what purpose he could.

We know how he carried out his resolve regarding the confession of Anna Correlli; and the picture which met his eye, as he opened that door and looked upon the mother and daughter clasped in each other's arms, was one that haunted his memory during the rest of his life.

As soon as Royal Bryant comprehended the import of Anna Correlli's confession, he turned to Edith with a radiant face and open arms.

"My darling! nothing can keep us apart now!" he murmured, in tones vibrant with joy, "you are free—free as the air you breathe—free to give yourself to me! Come!"

With a smile of love and happiness Edith sprang into his embrace and laid her face upon his breast.

"Oh, Roy!" she breathed, "all this seems too much joy to be real or to be borne in one day!"

"I think we can manage to endure it," returned her lover, with a fond smile. "I confess, however, that it seems like a day especially dedicated to blessings, for I have other good news for you."

"Can it be possible? What more could I ask, or even think of?" exclaimed Edith, wonderingly.

Roy smiled mysteriously, and returned, with a roguish gleam in his eyes:

"My news will keep a while—until you give me the pledge I crave, my darling. You will be my wife, Edith?" he added, with tender earnestness.

"You know that I will, Roy," she whispered; and, lifting her face to his, their mutual vows were sealed by their betrothal caress.

The young man drew from an inner pocket a tiny circlet of gold in which there blazed a flawless stone, clear as a drop of dew, and slipped it upon the third finger of Edith's left hand.

"I have had it ever since the day after your arrival in New York," he smilingly remarked, "but coward conscience would not allow me to give it to you; however, it will prove to you that I was lacking in neither faith nor hope."

"Now for my good news," he added, after Edith had thanked him, in a shy, sweet way that thrilled him anew, while he gently drew her to a seat. "I met Giulia Fiorini on the street this afternoon."

"Oh, Roy! did you?"

"Yes; she is here, searching for Correlli. I recognized her and the child from your description. I boldly resolved to address her, as I feared it might be my only opportunity. I did so, asking if I was right in supposing her to be Madam Fiorini, and told her that I was searching for her, at your request. She almost wept at the sound of your name, and eagerly inquired where she could find you. I took her to my office, where I told her what I wished to prove regarding her relations with Correlli, and that, if I could accomplish my purpose, it would give her and the child a claim upon him which he could not ignore. She at once frankly related her story to me, and stated that when they had first arrived in New York from Italy, Correlli had taken her to Madam ——'s boarding-house, where he had made arrangements for himself, wife and child—"

"Oh, then that settles the question of her claim upon him!" Edith here interposed, eagerly.

"Yes—if we can prove her statements, and I think we can; for when I told Giulia of my visit to madam, and how I had failed to elicit the slightest information from her, she said that she knew where one of the servants—who was in the house when she went there—could be found, for she had stumbled across the girl in the street and learned where she is now living. She gave me her address, and I went immediately to interview her. Luck was in my favor—the girl was at home, and remembered the 'pretty Italian girl, who was so sweet-spoken and polite;' she also knew where her previous fellow-servant could be found, and asserted that they would both be willing to swear that madam herself had told them to 'always to be very attentive to the handsome Italian's wife, for she made more out of them than out of any of her other boarders.' So, I flatter myself that I have gathered conclusive evidence against the man," Roy added, in a tone of satisfaction. "I shall interview Monsieur Correlli at once, and perhaps, when he realizes that his supposed claim upon you is null and void, he may be persuaded to do what is right regarding his wife and child."

The lovers then fell to talking of their own affairs, Edith relating what she had so recently learned from her mother, and concluded by mentioning the plan of readoption, suggested by Mrs. Stewart, in order to avoid the gossip of the world.