"Yes, that's right, Mr Pradelle," said the host, nodding pleasantly; "but when a cruel persecution drove us over here, and old England held out her arms to us, and we found a kindly welcome--" "My dear George!" interposed Aunt Marguerite. "Let me finish, my dear," said Mr Vine, good-temperedly. "It's Mr Pradelle's last evening here." "For the present, George, for the present." "Ah, yes, of course, for the present, and I should like him to hear my version too." Aunt Marguerite tapped the back of her left hand with her fan impatiently. "We found here a hearty welcome and a home," continued Mr Vine, "and we said we can never--we will never--return to the land of fire and the sword; and then we, some of us poor, some of us well-to-do, settled down among our English brothers, and thanked God that in this new Land of Canaan we had found rest." "And my dear Mr Pradelle," began Aunt Marguerite, hastily; but Mr Vine was started, and he talked on. "In time we determined to be, in spite of our French descent, English of the English, for our children's sake, and we worked with them, and traded with them; and, to show our faith in them, and to avoid all further connection and military service in the country we had left, we even anglicised our names. My people became Vines; the D'Aubigneys, Daubney or Dobbs; the Boileaus, Drinkwater; the Guipets, Guppy. Vulgarising our names, some people say; but never mind, we found rest, prosperity and peace." "Quite right, Mr Pradelle," said Van Heldre, "and in spite of my name and my Huguenot descent, I say, thank Heaven I am now an Englishman." "No, no, no, no. Mr Van Heldre," said Aunt Marguerite throwing herself back, and looking at him with a pitying smile. "You cannot prove your Huguenot descent." "Won't contradict you, ma'am," said Van Heldre. "Capital jam this, Louise." "You must be of Dutch descent," said Aunt Marguerite. "I went carefully over my father's pedigree, Miss Marguerite," said Madelaine quietly. "Indeed, my child?" said the lady, raising her brows. "And I found without doubt that the Venelttes fled during the persecutions to Holland, where they stayed for half a century, and changed their names to Van Heldre before coming to England." "Quite right," said Van Heldre in a low voice. "Capital cream." "Ah, yes," said Aunt Margaret; "but, my dear child, such papers are often deceptive." "Yes," said Van Heldre, smiling, "often enough, so are traditions and many of our beliefs about ancestry; but I hope I have enough of what you call the _haute noblesse_ in me to give way, and not attempt to argue the point." "No, Mr Van Heldre," said Aunt Margaret, with a smile of pity and good-humoured contempt; "we have often argued together upon this question, but I cannot sit in silence and hear you persist in that which is not true. No: you have not any Huguenot blood in your veins."