u know nothing whatever about me.
Isn't it barely possible that my life may contain something desirable in
the shape of family, position and environment?"

"I recall that Mr. Gray did speak of knowing the Percival family. My
niece never allows me to forget it."

"Mr. Gray did not know my family. He knew of my family, Mrs. Spofford,
if that conveys anything to you. Not that they would not have been proud
to have known him, for he was a gentleman. As for my own case, I can
only say that I am not a fugitive from justice, nor have I done anything
more disgraceful than the average young man who has been through college
and who, ignoring the counsel of his father, proceeds to find out for
himself the same things that his father had found out a great many years
before,--and his father before him, and so on back to the beginning of
man. My great-great-grandfather on my mother's side was a comparatively
recent settler in America. He didn't come over from Scotland until about
1750. My father's people came over in the days of Lord Baltimore. Most
of my remote ancestors were very wicked men. You will find that one of
them was executed in the Tower of London the same week that Lady Jane
Grey went to her death, and another was openly in love with Mistress
Nell Gwyn, thereby falling into disgrace with a monarch named Charles. I
admit that I come of very bad stock."

A fleeting twinkle lurked in her eyes.

"You are very adroit, Mr. Percival."

"Which is as much as to say that I have an agreeable and interesting way
of lying. Is that what you wish to imply, Mrs. Spofford?"

"Not at all. I say you are adroit because you place me in an
embarrassing position. If I believe your confession that you come of
bad stock, I must also believe that you come of an exceedingly good
old Maryland family." He bowed very low. "My niece, Mr. Percival, is an
orphan. I am and have been her protector since she was fourteen years
of age. She is the possessor of a large fortune in her own right. Her
father,--who was my brother,--gave her into my care when he was on his
death-bed. I leave you to surmise just what were his dying words to me.
She was his idol. I have not failed him in any respect. You ask me to
give my consent to your marriage. I cannot do so. No doubt you will be
married, just as you have planned. She loves you. I have known it for
months. I have seen this day and hour coming,--yes, I have seen it even
more clearly than she, for while she