his brain than is plain John Ardworth. What is it you mean?"

Madame Dalibard bent her face over her breast, and rocking herself in her
chair, seemed to muse for some moments before she answered.

"When I first came to England, some months ago, I desired naturally to
learn all the particulars of my family and kindred, from which my long
residence abroad had estranged me. John Walter Ardworth was related to
my half-sister; to me he was but a mere connection. However, I knew
something of his history, yet I did not know that he had a son. Shortly
before I came to England, I learned that one who passed for his son had
been brought up by Mr. Fielden, and from Mr. Fielden I have since learned
all the grounds for that belief from which you take the name of
Ardworth."

Lucretia paused a moment; and after a glance at the impatient, wondering,
and eager countenance that bent intent upon her, she resumed:

"Your reputed father was, you are doubtless aware, of reckless and
extravagant habits. He had been put into the army by my uncle, and he
entered the profession with the careless buoyancy of his sanguine nature.
I remember those days,--that day! Well, to return--where was I?--Walter
Ardworth had the folly to entertain strong notions of politics. He
dreamed of being a soldier, and yet persuaded himself to be a republican.
His notions, so hateful in his profession, got wind; he disguised
nothing, he neglected the portraits of things,--appearances. He excited
the rancour of his commanding officer; for politics then, more even than
now, were implacable ministrants to hate. Occasion presented itself.
During the short Peace of Amiens he had been recalled. He had to head a
detachment of soldiers against some mob,--in Ireland, I believe; he did