fulfilled, except the 'heir and heiress' line. I am the last Trevlyn,
and as the time draws near when my child shall be born, I naturally
think of his future, and hope he will enjoy his heritage in peace."

"God grant it!" softly echoed Lady Trevlyn, adding, with a look askance
at the old book, "I read that history once, and fancied it must be a
romance, such dreadful things are recorded in it. Is it all true,
Richard?"

"Yes, dear. I wish it was not. Ours has been a wild, unhappy race till
the last generation or two. The stormy nature came in with old Sir
Ralph, the fierce Norman knight, who killed his only son in a fit of
wrath, by a blow with his steel gauntlet, because the boy's strong will
would not yield to his."

"Yes, I remember, and his daughter Clotilde held the castle during a
siege, and married her cousin, Count Hugo. 'Tis a warlike race, and I
like it in spite of the mad deeds."

"Married her cousin! That has been the bane of our family in times past.
Being too proud to mate elsewhere, we have kept to ourselves till idiots
and lunatics began to appear. My father was the first who broke the law
among us, and I followed his example: choosing the freshest, sturdiest
flower I could find to transplant into our exhausted soil."

"I hope it will do you honor by blossoming bravely. I never forget that
you took me from a very humble home, and have made me the happiest wife
in England."

"And I never forget that you, a girl of eighteen, consented to leave