"One thing that has happened," he replied, rousing himself, "is that I
have heard more family history than I knew before. Do you care to hear
that?"

"Yes; I should like to if you don't mind."

"Well, you know that my father and mother came out here from England
many years ago, directly after their marriage. This marriage, it
appears, was disapproved of by my mother's family--was a runaway match,
indeed, and never forgiven even to the time of her death."

"Oh, Maurice! and were her father and mother alive?"

"Her father was, and still is. She was an only daughter, with but one
brother; and my grandfather, who is a Norfolk gentleman of large
property, expected her, reasonably enough, to marry a man who was her
equal in fortune. However, she chose to marry my father, who was then a
soldier, a poor lieutenant, with little money, and equally little
prospect of rising. I don't know whether women are very wise or very
foolish, Lucia, but they seem to see things with different eyes to men.
My mother chose to marry, then, though my father was poor, and certain
to remain so; though she was a gay spoiled girl of just twenty-one, and
he a grave man not much under forty. He sold out, and they came here. I
don't believe she ever was unhappy, or repented her marriage, and my
father while she lived had all he cared for; since her death, indeed,
there has been sorrow after sorrow."

Maurice stopped a moment.