'"I never had a father, I never had a mother, I never had a sister, I never had a brother, For indeed I'm nobody's child!"' And adopting the tone and manners of a street-singer, Hew gave this verse with extreme zest and almost fierce exultation, acting the part with such broad vulgarity that his hearer winced; but well did Hew know that he was bringing the strongest argument to bear upon the weakest point in the character of Sir Piers--an inordinate pride of birth and family. 'Good God! you don't say so, Hew?' exclaimed Sir Piers, more sorrow than anger predominating in his mind for a time--but a time only. 'Fact, though,' replied Hew, carefully selecting a cigar from his silver case, 'if a certain chain of deductions may be trusted, and I know that the thought of his obscure birth is gall and wormwood to him--have seen him blush for it more than once, at Eaglescraig.' 'His father----' began Sir Piers. 'Nobody knows who that illustrious individual was. I suppose he doesn't know himself, though he must have had one.' 'And his mother?' 'Was a singer, or actress, or something of that kind. Folks in the musical world, like folks on the turf, all know something of each other, and so this fellow, Von Humstrumm, assured me that--that it is all as I say; and thus his excellence as a singer and pianist is accounted for at once. The Herr told me that he had performed at her private concerts given in the house of a noble lady in Belgravia, when the inner drawing-room was turned into quite a beautiful _bijou salon de concert_, and even royalty was present. Pretty circumstantial that!' 'Extraordinary!' 'Not at all; there is nothing extraordinary in this world. Thus I should not wonder if the fellow once figured before the footlights! Gad, if the Cameronians only knew of this, they'd put him in Coventry--force him to quit!' 'Then how the devil does this band-master come to know, if they don't?' said Sir Piers, pacing the room in great annoyance of spirit. 'I don't understand all this! Was he not a Sandhurst cadet?' 'I don't know, and don't care,' responded Hew, with an access of sullenness. 'He certainly seems a finished gentleman!' 'I have heard you admire his hands as being white and shapely,' said Hew, with a sneer. 'Yes; but what of that?' 'Did you ever observe his mode of gesticulating with them?' 'No.' 'Well, _I_ have, and to me it seemed to indicate foreign blood and player-like proclivities.' Hew's hands were neither white nor shapely, and certainly bore no indication of that refinement of race on which his listener set such store. 'We have not heard the last of this fellow,' he resumed, after a pause. 'The last! What do you mean?'