My father has just died, and I am here in search of my child.

My child," continued the earl, seeing the rector's blank face--"where is she?
I find my poor friend the doctor is dead, and the house where my little one's foster-mother lived is empty.
Can you tell me what it means ?" He tried to speak calmly, but his handsome face had grown quite white, his lips were dry and hot, his voice, even to himself, had a strange, harsh sound.
"Where is she ?" he repeated.

"The little one--my Madaline's child?
I have a strange feeling that all is not well.

Where is my child ?" He saw the shadow deepen on the rector's face, and he clasped his arm.
"Where is she ?" he cried.

"You cannot mean that she is dead?
Not dead, surely?
I have not seen her since I left her, a little, feeble baby; but she has lived in my heart through all these weary years of exile.