Had they been at fault, nothing could have persuaded him that you did
not have a broad river of red blood in you somewhere, and he never
would have approved of you had you been the monarch of a kingdom."

Dartmouth smiled. "The men at college used to laugh at my hands, until
I nearly choked one of them to death one day, after which they never
laughed at them again. There is no doubt now about my having been
destined at birth for a Welsh maiden, and equipped accordingly. But
you know your father pretty thoroughly."

"I have lived alone with him so long that I can almost read his mind,
and I certainly know his peculiarities."

"It must have been a terribly lonely life for you. How old were you
when your mother died?"

She moved with the nervous motion habitual to her whenever her
mother's name was mentioned. "I was about nine," she said.

"_Nine_? And yet you remember nothing of her? Weir, it is impossible
that you cannot remember her."

"I do not remember her," she said.

"I saw her picture in the library to-night. She must have been very
beautiful, but like you only in being dark. Otherwise, there is not a
trace of resemblance. But surely you must remember her, Weir; you are
joking. I can remember when I was four years of age perfectly, and
many things that happened."