"Thank you," said he, with a slight inclination of the head, as though acknowledging some remark of small and ordinary politeness. "Perhaps you would like to see this?" He picked up a crumpled sheet of notepaper, smoothed out the creases, and handed it to her. Taking it, she read this, written in a childish, ill-formed hand-- "Dear Father,--When this reaches you I shall be at sea. I hope you won't mind very much, as it runs in the family, and some of those that done it have turned out best. I don't get any good staying at home. I love you and you love me, but nobody else does, and nobody understands. I thought Miss Marvin understood, but she went away and forgot. Never mind, it will be all right when I am a man. I will come back, for you mustn't think I don't love you." "--Your affect. son," "C. Rosewarne." As Hester looked up she found Mr. Samuel's eyes fixed on her for the first time, and fixed on her curiously. "You don't approve, perhaps, of cousins marrying?" he asked slowly. Was the man mad, as Susannah had hinted? "I--I don't understand you, Mr. Rosewarne." "Your mother had an only sister--an elder sister--who went out to Dominica, and there married a common soldier. Did you know this?" "I knew that my mother had a sister, and that there had been some disgrace. My father never spoke of it, and my mother died when I was very young; but in some way--as children do--I came to know." "I thought you might know more, but it does not matter now. My father was that common soldier, and the disgrace did not lie in her marrying him. Before the marriage--I have a copy here of the entry in the register--a child was born. Yes, stare at me well, Cousin Hester, stare at me, your cousin, though born in bastardy!" His eyes seemed to force her backward, and she leaned back, clasping the arms of her chair. "I learnt this a short while before my father died. I had only his word for it--he gave me no particulars; but I have hunted them up, and he told me the truth. Knowing them, I concealed them for the sake of the child that was drowned to-day; otherwise, the estate being entailed, his inheritance would have passed to Clem, and he and I were interlopers. Are you one of those who believe that God has punished me by drowning my son? You have better grounds than the rest for believing it." "No," said Hester, after a long pause, remembering what thoughts had been in her mind as she crossed the ferry. "Why not?" "The child had done no evil. God is just, or God does not exist. He must have had some other purpose than to punish you."