f another squire, and at the time of her marriage was simply
one of ten thousand fresh-faced, pleasant-spoken English country girls.
If we look for a strain of the romantic in Shelley's ancestry, we shall
have to find it in the person of his grandfather, who was a very
remarkable and powerful character.

This person, Bysshe Shelley by name, had in his youth been associated
with some mystery. He was not born in England, but in America--and in
those days the name "America" meant almost anything indefinite and
peculiar. However this might be, Bysshe Shelley, though a scion of a
good old English family, had wandered in strange lands, and it was
whispered that he had seen strange sights and done strange things.
According to one legend, he had been married in America, though no one
knew whether his wife was white or black, or how he had got rid of her.

He might have remained in America all his life, had not a small
inheritance fallen to his share. This brought him back to England, and
he soon found that England was in reality the place to make his
fortune. He was a man of magnificent physique. His rovings had given
him ease and grace, and the power which comes from a wide experience of
life. He could be extremely pleasing when he chose; and he soon won his
way into the good graces of a rich heiress, whom he married.

With her wealth he became an important personage, and consorted with
gentlemen and statesmen of influence, attaching himself particularly to
the Duke of Northumberland, by whose influence he was made a baronet.
When his rich wife died, Shelley married a still richer bride; and so
this man, who started out as a mere adventurer without a shilling to
his name, died in 1813, leaving more than a million dollars in cash,
with lands whose rent-roll yielded a hundred thousand dollars every
year.

If any touch of the romantic which we find in Shelley is a matter of
heredity, we must trace it to this able, daring, restless, and
magnificent old grandfather, who was the beau ideal of an English
squire--the sort of squire who had added foreign graces to native
sturdiness. But young Shelley, the future poet, seemed scarcely to be
English at all. As a young boy he cared nothing for athletic sports. He
was given to much reading. He thought a good deal about abstractions
with which most schoolboys never concern themselves at all.

Consequently, both in private schools and afterward at Eton, he became
a sort of rebel against