ill
finally it was lost in silence.

CHAPTER II

HAMBLETON OF LYNN

The Hambletons of Lynn had not distinguished themselves, in late
generations at least, by remarkable deeds, though their deportment was
such as to imply that they could if they would. They frankly regarded
themselves as the elect of earth, if not of Heaven, always, however, with
a becoming modesty. Since 1636 the family had pieced out its existence
in the New World, tenaciously clinging to many of its old-country habits.
It had kept the _b_ in the family name, for instance; it had kept the
name itself out of trade, and it had indulged its love of country life at
the expense of more than one Hambleton fortune.

A daughter-in-law was once reported as saying that it would have been a
good thing if some Hambleton had embarked in trade, since in that case
they might have been saved from devoting themselves exclusively to an
illustration of polite poverty. She was never forgiven, and died without
being reconciled to the family. As to the spelling of the name, the
family claimed ancestral authority as far back as King Fergus the First.
Mrs. Van Camp, a relative by marriage--a woman considered by the best
Hambletons as far too frank and worldly-minded--informed the family that
King Fergus was as much a myth as Dido, and innocently brought forth
printed facts to corroborate her statement. One of the ladies Hambleton
crushed Mrs. Van Camp by stating, in a tone of deep personal conviction,
with her cap awry, "So much the worse for Dido!"

A salient strength persisted in the Hambletons--a strength which retained
its character in spite of cross-currents. The Hambleton tone and the
Hambleton ideas retained their family color, and became, whether worthily
or not, a part of the Hambleton pride. More than one son had lost his
health or entire fortune, which was apt not to be large, in attempts to
carry on a country place. "A Hambleton trait!" they chuckled, with as
much satisfaction as they considered it good form to exhibit. In Lynn,
where family pride did not bring in large returns, this phrase became
almost synonymous with genteel foolishness.

The Van Camp fortune, which came near but never actually into the family,
was generally understood to have been made in shoes, though in reality it
was drugs.

"People say 'shoes' the minute they hear the word Lynn, and I'm tired of
explaining," Mrs. Van Camp put it. She was third in line from the
succ