lf-assurance. It was the reluctance with which
certain parts of the family history were told, and the total
withholding of others, that taught him to be ashamed of things for which
he could not be held personally responsible. The effect of this lesson
on his character was the more fatal because it remained unconscious so
long. Having become doubtful as to the worth of the roots of the tree,
it was only natural that he should also feel doubts about the fruit.

Concerning the real character of his forbears he learned next to
nothing. All that he heard related to external circumstances that were,
or were not, judged respectable and presentable. One fact in particular
was subject to the most rigid exclusion from all family conversations,
and yet it leaked down to Keith at a time when he was utterly incapable
of appreciating its significance. It piqued him mightily without
disturbing him.

One day they were visited by his father's married sister, who was
lacking in sentimentality and had a disturbing way of calling a spade a
spade. The inevitable testing of the boy's cleverness by making him tell
his own name led to a discussion of family names in general, Keith's
mother expressing a great admiration for that of Wellander.

"Oh, yes, it's good enough," remarked her sister-in-law, "but it is not
the right one, you know, and the old one was much finer."

"I know," said the mother, "but I don't know what the name used to be."

"Cederskjoeld, and I think it was recognized as noble. I never knew the
inside of it, but it looks peculiar. Carl's and my father and his
brother and two sisters took common action to get the family name
changed to Wellander. I am sure my grandfather must have been up to
some rather striking deviltry, and for all I know he might have
been hanged."

"Hush," cried Keith's mother with a quick glance at the boy who was
taking in everything with wide-open eyes and ears.

Keith did not wait for anything more, but sneaked off by himself to
think. The change of the name seemed nothing at the time, but the
suggestion that his great-grandfather had been hanged was startling
enough to give food for many meditations. Fortunately, or unfortunately,
his aunt's manner had been too nonchalant to give him any clues. And
from the manner of his mother he gathered merely that the asking of
questions would be useless. So it came about that Keith for the first
time in his life regretted the premature death of his patern