He accepted the hospitality of Grandma Rugg, and made his home with her
and Mat. The influences which surrounded him were not calculated to
develop good principles, and Arch grew rude and boisterous, like the
other street boys. He heard the vilest language--oaths were the rule
rather than the exception in Grigg Court, as the place was called--and
gambling, and drunkenness, and licentiousness abounded. Still, it was
singular how much evil Arch shunned.

But there was growing within him a principle of bitter hatred, which one
day might embitter his whole existence. Perhaps he had cause for it; he
thought he had, and cherished it with jealous care, lest it should be
annihilated as the years went on.

From his mother's private papers he had learned much of her history that
he had before been ignorant of. She had never spoken to him very freely
of the past. She knew how proud and high his temper was, and acted with
wisdom in burying the story of her wrongs in her own breast.

His father, Hubert Trevlyn, had come of a proud family. There was no
bluer blood in the land than that which ran in the veins of the Trevlyns.
Not very far back they had an earl for their ancestor, and, better than
that, the whole long lineage had never been tarnished by a breath of
dishonor.

Hubert was the sole child of his father, and in him were centred many
bright and precious hopes. His father was a kind parent, though a stern
one, who would never brook a shade of disobedience in this boy upon whom
his fondest hopes and aspirations were fixed.

When Hubert was about twenty-four he went into the country for his