Part 43 (1/2)

”Yes, dear,” and the woman caught both of his hands in hers, ”every word is true. You are my own boy, and I am your mother. Are you glad?”

The expression upon Rod's face, as with a deep sigh of relief he lay back once more upon the pillow, was answer enough. All the old dread that the other mother would come back and carry him off suddenly disappeared. And yet he wondered about the letters she used to write.

A puzzled look came into his eyes.

”What is it?” his mother asked. ”Are you sorry?”

”Oh, no. But I was wondering about that other woman who used to write to me, who said she was my mother.”

”It was I who wrote those letters, dear. I had to, you see.”

”And you are not Anna Royanna, after all?”

”No. My real name is Anna Royal. I only changed part of the last name to Royanna.”

”Why, it's just like a fairy tale,” Rod exclaimed. ”But, no, it isn't, either,” he mused. ”A fairy tale is only a make-believe, while this is really true. It's better than a fairy tale. Isn't it great!” and his eyes sparkled. ”But, say, do grandad and grandma know about it?”

”Yes, dear. I told them last night.”

”And I bet they were pleased.”

”Indeed they were. I wish you could have seen their faces when I told them that you are Alec's boy, and their own real grandson.”

For a few minutes there was silence, Rod thinking of all that he had heard, and his mother recalling the night before, when she had revealed to Mr. and Mrs. Royal the story of her life. Never should she forget the look of intense joy which came into their eyes, nor the sweet peace which possessed her heart as they enfolded her in their arms, kissed her, and called her ”daughter.” It had seemed almost too good to be true. She was roused by Rod's voice.