we
brought you together, you were cold and selfish in your treatment of
her, moved by a jealous bitterness which even her trustful love for you
could not dispel. These are disagreeable truths, but I intend that we
shall understand each other."

"So I see," muttered Eben.

"Meantime," continued Mr. Reed, in a different tone, and almost as if he
were talking to himself and had forgotten the presence of his visitor,
"Kate grew in sweetness, in truth and nobility of nature; grew into a
strong, beautiful girlhood, honored by all, and idolized by her new
parents and by her two brothers Wolcott and myself. Bearing our name
from her infancy, and coming with us, soon after, into this new
neighborhood as our only sister, her relationship never was
questioned--"

Eben Slade had been listening in sullen patience, but now he asked,
quickly:

"Do they, do the youngsters--"

"My brother's children?" asked Mr. Reed.

"Well, your brother's children, we'll say; do _they_ know that she was
adopted by their grandparents, that she was not their own
flesh-and-blood aunt?"

"They think of her always as the beloved sister of their father and
myself, as she virtually was," replied Mr. Reed. "From the first, the
custom of our household was to consider her purely as one of the family;
Kate herself would have resented any other view of the case.
Therefore--"

"Therefore the children have been kept in the dark about it," exclaimed
Eben Slade, exultingly, as though it were his turn now to utter plain
truths.

"The question has never been raised by them. They were hardly more than
six weeks old when they were brought to this house; and as they grew
older, they learned to know of her and love her as their Aunt Kate. If
ever they ask me the question direct, I shall answer it. Till then I
shall consider Kate Reed--I should say Mrs. Kate Robertson--as my sister
and their aunt."

"And I likewise shall continue to consider her as _my_ sister, with your
permission," remarked Eben, with a disagreeable laugh.

"Yes, and a true sister she would have been. The letters which she wrote
you during your boyhood, and which you never answered, showed her
interest in your welfare."

"If she had known enough to put money in them, now," sneered Eben Slade.
"I was kept down in the closest way, and a little offering of that kind
might-- But that's neither here nor there, and I don't see the drift of
all this talk. What _I_ want to know--what in fact I ca