"
The Baroness leaned lower over the pillow of the invalid as she
answered: "I will tell you why I ask this sacrifice of you."
"Perhaps you do not know that I married Judge Lawrence after the
death of his first wife. Perhaps you do not know that Preston
Cheney's legitimate daughter is as precious to me as his illegitimate
child is to you. Alice is only six months younger than Joy; she is
frail, delicate, sensitive. A severe disappointment would kill her.
She, too, loves Arthur Stuart. If your daughter will let him alone,
he will marry Alice. Surely the illegitimate child should give way
to the legitimate.
"If you are selfish in this matter, I shall be obliged to tell your
daughter the true story of her life, and let her be the judge of what
is right and what is wrong. I fancy she might have a finer
perception of duty than you have--she is so much like her father."
The tortured invalid fell back panting on her pillow. She put out
her hands with a distracted, imploring gesture.
"Leave me to think," she gasped. "I never knew that Preston Cheney
had a daughter; I did not know he lived here. My life has been so
quiet, so secluded these many years. Leave me to think. I will give
you my answer in a few days; I will write you after I reflect and
pray."
The Baroness passed out, and Joy, hastening into the room, found her
mother in a wild paroxysm of tears.
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