Temperance and Charles into the room by my declamation, when my
audience was unexpectedly increased by the entrance of father, with a
strange gentleman. Aunt Merce laughed hysterically; I waved my hand to
her, _à la_ Boold, and descended from my position.

"Take a chair," said Temperance, who was never abashed, thumping one
down before the stranger.

"What is all this?" inquired father.

"Only a _Ranz des Vaches_, father, to please Aunt Merce."

The stranger's eyes were fastened upon me, while father introduced us
to "Mr. Charles Morgeson, of Rosville."

"Please receive me as a relative," he said, turning to shake hands
with mother. "We have an ancestor in common that makes a sufficient
cousinship for a claim, Mrs. Morgeson."

"Why not have looked us up before?" I asked.

"Why," said Veronica, who had just come in, "there are six Charles
Morgesons buried in our graveyard."

"I supposed," he said, "that the name was extinct. I lately saw your
father's in a State Committee List, and feeling curious regarding it,
I came here."

He bowed distantly to Veronica when she entered, but she did not
return his bow, though she looked at him fixedly. Temperance and