“I should say there is,” was the emphatic reply.  “Donaster has been arrested for forgery.”

Mrs. Randall gave a startled cry, and leaned excitedly forward.

“Arrested!” she exclaimed.  “How terrible!”

“Yes, it certainly is,” Randall replied, as he rapidly scanned the article.  “He is not the son of Lord Donaster, for there is no such person by that name.  That fellow is an impostor, and his father is a shoemaker in the United States.  His real name, so this paper says, is William Lukie, and the police have been on his tracks for some time for forging the names of several prominent business men.  So that’s the end of that rascal, and I’m not sorry.”

Mr. Randall put down the paper, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.  Mrs. Hampton had let her sewing drop upon her lap, and her eyes were fixed full upon the invalid’s face.  She was thinking rapidly, and her heart beat fast, for she had made up her mind that the great revelation must be made at all cost.

“So your daughter, then, will no longer be troubled with that man,” she remarked as casually as possible.

“Certainly not,” Randall replied.  “It has been a very narrow escape.”

“And you wanted to force her to marry him last fall, did you not?”

“We did, we did, fools that we were.”

“Then Jess was right in taking matters into her own hands.”

“She really was; I see it now.  That girl has a great deal of common sense.”

“I suppose you will let her choose for herself after this?”

“The man she wishes to marry, do you mean?  H’m, I guess she has chosen already, from every appearance.  I’m satisfied, if you are.  I certainly would like to have John as a son.  He would be a great help to me in my business.  I wish I could say the same about my own boys.”

“And if they should marry, you would get another son, while I should get a daughter.  It would be a satisfactory arrangement on both sides, would it not?”

“It certainly would.  Nothing would please me better.”

Randall was greatly surprised as Mrs. Hampton rose suddenly to her feet and stood before him.  She was trembling violently, and she laid her hand upon the table for support.

“What is the matter?” he asked.  “Are you sick?”

“No, no, I am not sick.  But I want to tell you something—­a confession.  Listen.  John is your own real son, and Jess is my daughter.  There, now you know the truth.”

A startled cry from Mrs. Randall followed this announcement, which caused Mrs. Hampton to wheel suddenly around.  Mrs. Randall had sprung to her feet, and was standing before her.

“What did you say?” she demanded.  “That John is our son?  Is it true?  Tell me, quick.”

“Yes, it is true,” Mrs. Hampton replied.  “John is your son, and Jess is my daughter.”

For an instant it seemed as if Mrs. Randall would fall to the ground, so overcome was she at this startling announcement.  She stared at Mrs. Hampton as if she had not heard aright.  Then she placed her hand to her forehead and sank upon the ground, while tears streamed down her cheeks.