"I certainly am going to faint, Jessie, do go out," gasped the white figure in the rocking chair, while Jessie rejoined: "I don’t see how my going out can help you." Then crossing over to her grandmother, she whispered, "Brave it out. _Don’t_ let her see that you care." Thus entreated Mrs. Bartow became somewhat composed, and her tormentor went on: "This Patty Lummis, Aunt Debby said, was blood relation to _three Thayers_, who were hung some years ago for murdering _John Love_, or some such name. I remember hearing of it at the time, but did not suppose I knew any of their relatives." "Horrid!" cried Jessie, and then, as she saw how white her grandmother was, she added quickly: "And didn’t she say too, that the Gregorys _ought_ to have been hung if they weren’t?" "Such impertinence," muttered Mrs. Reeves, while Jessie rejoined: "There are very few families, which, if traced to the fountain head, have not a halter, or a peddler’s cart, or a smell of tallow, or shoemaker’s wax——" "Or a woollen factory, Jessie. Don’t forget that," suggested Mrs. Bartow, and Jessie added, laughingly: "Yes, a woollen factory, and as you and grandma do not belong to the few who are exempt from a stain of any kind, if honorable work can be called a stain, I advise you to drop old scores, and let the past be forgotten." "I’m sure I’m willing," sobbed Mrs. Bartow. "I never did tell that ridiculous story to but one, and she promised not to breathe it as long as she lived." "And will you take it back?" chimed in Mrs. Reeves. "Ye-es. I’ll do everything I can toward it," answered the distracted old lady. "I couldn’t help those _Thayers_. I never saw them in my life, and they were only second cousins." "_Fourth_ to you, then," and Mrs. Reeves nodded to Jessie, who replied: "I don’t care if they were _first_. Everybody knows me, and my position in society does not depend upon what my family have been before me, but upon what I am myself. Isn’t it so, father?" and she turned to Mr. Graham, who had just entered the room. "I don’t know the nature of your conversation," he replied, "but I overheard your last remarks, and fully concur with you, that persons are to be respected for themselves and not for their family; neither are they to be despised for what their family or any member of it may do." There was a tremor in his voice, and looking at him closely, Jessie saw that he was very pale, and evidently much agitated. "What is it, father?" she cried, forgetting the _three Thayers_ and thinking only of Walter. "What has happened?" Mr. Graham did not reply to her, but turning to Mrs. Reeves, he said: "Excuse me, madam, but I think your duty calls you home, where poor Charlotte needs your sympathy." "Why _poor_ Charlotte?" replied Jessie, grasping his arm. "Is William sick or dead?" "He has been arrested for forgery. I may as well tell it first as last," and the words dropped slowly from Mr. Graham’s lips.