led expression. Julius Savine
smiled, but his sister-in-law, who had remained silent, but not
unobservant, broke in: "You believe in the hereditary transmission of
character, Mr. Thurston?"

"I think most people do to some extent," answered Geoffrey. "But why
do you ask me?"

"It's quite simple," said Mrs. Savine, smiling. "Did my husband tell
you that when we were in England, we were held up by a storm there one
night in your ancestral home? There was a man there who ought to
belong to the feudal ages. He was called Musker, and he told us quaint
stories about some of you. I fancy Geoffrey, who robbed the king's
dragoons, must have looked just like you when you shut your fingers so,
a few minutes ago."

"I am a little surprised," Geoffrey returned with a flush rising in his
cheeks. "Musker used to talk a great deal of romantic nonsense.
Crosbie Ghyll is no longer mine. I hope you passed a pleasant night
there." Mrs. Savine became eloquent concerning the historic interest
of the ancient house and her brother-in-law, who appeared interested,
observed.

"So far, you have not told me about that particular adventure."

Again the incident was unfortunate for Geoffrey, because Helen, who had
no great respect for her aunt's perceptions, decided that if the
similitude had struck even that lady, she was right in her own
estimation of Thurston's character.

"We heard of several instances of reckless daring, and we Colonials
consider all the historic romance of the land we sprang from belongs to
us as well as you," Mrs. Savine said. "So, if it is not an intrusion,
may I ask if any of those border warriors were remarkable for deeds of
self-abnegation or charity?"

"I am afraid not," admitted Geoffrey, rather grimly. "Neither did any
of them ever do much towards the making of history. All of them were
generally too busy protecting their property or seizing that of their
neighbors! But, at least, when they fought, they seem to have fought
for the losing side, and, according to tradition, paid for it dearly.
However, to change the subject, is it fair to hold any man responsible
for his ancestors' shortcomings? They have gone back to the dust long
ago, and it is the present that concerns us."

"Still, can anybody avoid the results of those shortcomings or
virtues?" persisted Helen, and her father said:

"I hardly think so. There is an instance beside you, Mr. Thurston.
Miss Savine's grandfather ruled in patern