I spoke of the resemblance, and Old Dan at first drew back within
himself. Then he began to question me eagerly about the man. And
presently he had let us know who he was.

"Yes," he said, "you are right. There is a strong resemblance between
us, or there was when we were young. I have not seen him for more than
forty years. He is my brother--younger than I. You know what the
family has been in New England. There has not been a generation of it
for a hundred, yes, a hundred and fifty years, that has not made its
influence felt either in Massachusetts or the nation. I cut loose from
it before I was twenty, and they have known nothing about me since. In
fact, they think me dead--they thought I died then, and I do not intend
they shall ever know that I did not. This is the first time since I
left that anybody has known my real name, and you 'll do me a favor if
you never speak of it to any one else, here or elsewhere. I have not
always been known by the same name since then, but what difference does
that make? When a man leads as many different lives as I have done, he
has a right to more names than one or two.

"I was in Harvard College and it was the summer vacation after my
junior year. Every male member of our family"--Old Dan spoke that
"our" with timid and shame-faced, but very evident, pride--"for I don't
know how many generations, has gone to Harvard, and I suppose I am the
only one of the whole lot of them that didn't graduate. I went to New
York that summer to transact some business for my father. I succeeded
with it very well, but in the meantime I did n't neglect the
opportunities of enjoying myself with a good deal more freedom than I
would have dared to take at home. I probably was n't born quite up to
the high standard of morality, dignity, and self-respect which my