the bank? It is because my father, J. Stillwell Stoker,
died behind the bars of a penitentiary! I'm the son of a jailbird--a
defaulter and a forger! That's why the bank didn't want me. They'd
had their fingers burned with him, and didn't want to risk another of
that name. Thought there might be something in the blood, I suppose.
That's where all grandfather's property went, to pay it back; all but
this house and the little Aunt Eunice kept for our support. And
that's why mother came back here with us and died of a broken heart!
Now do you wonder that I can't believe in the eternal goodness when
it starts me out in life handicapped like that? Do you blame me when
I say I am going to get out of this town and go away to some place
where I'll not have my father's disgrace thrown in my teeth every
time I try to do anything worth while? No wonder I'm moody! No wonder
I'm a pessimist when I think of the legacy he's saddled us with! Aunt
Eunice thought she could always shield us from the knowledge of it,
but she could no more do it than she could hide fire!"

Philippa sat on the bed as if stunned by the words flowing in such a
vehement rush from her brother's lips. She was white and trembled. "O
Alec," she gasped, with a shudder, "it can't be true!" Then, after a
distressing silence, she sobbed, "Does everybody know it?"

"Everybody in the village now, but little Mack, and he'll have to be
knocked flat with the fact some day, I suppose, just as we have
been."

Philippa shivered and drew herself up into a disconsolate bunch
against the foot-board. "To think of the way I've prided myself on
our family!" she said, in a husky voice. "I've actually bragged of
the Macklins and paraded the virtues of my ancestors."

Alec made no answer. Down-stairs the big kitchen clock slowly struck
seven.

"I'll have to hurry," he remarked. Catching up his blacking-brush, he
began polishing his shoes in nervous haste. "It's later than I
thought. I'm due at the hotel in thirty minutes."

"At the hotel!" repeated Philippa, wondering dully how he could take
any interest in anything more in life, knowing all that had blighted
their young lives.

"Yes; but don't you tell Aunt Eunice until it's all settled. I
promised to meet a man there, who's been talking to me about a
position a thousand miles from here. He's interested in a
manufacturing business. His firm has a scheme for making money hand
over fist. He didn't tell me what it is, but he want