Nothing could prevent his doing that; and as soon as he thought she would see him he started for the cottage, taking with him the Bible, the photograph and the letter he had secreted so long.

All the way there, he was repeating to himself the form of speech with which he should commence, but when Jerrie said to him, so graciously, 'Good morning, Uncle Frank,' the words left him, and he began, impetuously; 'Don't call me uncle.

Don't speak to me, Jerrie, until you have heard what I have come to confess on my knees, with my white head upon the floor, if you will it so, and that would not half express the shame and remorse with which I stand before you and tell you I am a cheat, a liar, a villain, and have been since that day when I first saw you and that dead woman we thought your mother.' Jerrie was dumb with surprise, and did not speak or move as he went on rapidly, telling her the whole, with no attempt at an excuse for himself, except so far as to report what he had done in a business point of view, making provision for her in case of his death and enjoining it upon his children to see that his wishes were carried out.
'Here is the Bible,' he said, laying the book in her lap.

'Here is the photograph, and here the letter which you gave me to post, and which, had it been sent, might have cleared the mystery sooner.' He had made his confession, and he stood before her with clasped hands and an expression upon his face such as a criminal might wear when awaiting the jury's decision.

But Jerrie neither looked at him nor spoke, for through a rain of tears she was gazing upon the sweet face, sadder and thinner than the face of Gretchen in the window, but so like it that there could be no mistaking it, and so like to the face which had haunted her so often, and seemed so near to her.
'Mother, mother! I remember you as you are here, sick and sorry, but oh, so lovely!' she said, as she pressed her lips again and again to the picture, with no thought or care for the wretched man who had come a step nearer to her, and who said at last: 'Will you never speak to me, Jerrie?
Never tell me how much you despise me ?' 'Then she looked up at the face quivering with anguish and entreaty, and the sight melted her at once.