"You know _ma mere_ is, and I am her son." Roundjacket shook his head. "You are a Saxon, not an Aboriginal," he said; "and to tell you the truth, your origin has been the great puzzle of my life, sir." "Has it?" "It has, indeed." Verty looked thoughtful, and his dreamy gaze was fixed upon vacancy. "It has troubled me a good deal lately," he said, "and I have been thinking about it very often--since I came to live in Winchester, you know. As long as I was in the woods, it did not come into my thoughts much; the deer, and turkeys, and bears never asked," added Verty, with a smile. "The travellers who stopped for a draught of water or a slice of venison at _ma mere's_, never seemed to think anything about it, or to like me the worse for not knowing where I came from. It's only since I came into society here, sir, that I am troubled. It troubles me very much," added Verty, his head drooping. "Zounds!" cried Roundjacket, betrayed by his feelings into an oath, "don't let it, Verty! You're a fine, honest fellow, whether you're an Indian or not; and if I had a daughter--which," added Mr. Roundjacket, "I'm glad to say I have not--you should have her for the asking. Who cares! you're a gentleman, every inch of you!" "Am I?" said Verty; "I'm glad to hear that. I thought I was'nt. And so, sir, you don't think there's any objection to my marrying?" "Hum!--the subject of marrying again!" "Yes, sir," Verty replied, smiling; "I thought I'd marry Redbud." "Who? that little Redbud!" "Yes, sir," said Verty, "I think I'm in love with her." Roundjacket stood amazed at such extraordinary simplicity. "Sir," he said, "whether you are an Indian by blood or not, you certainly are by nature. Extraordinary! who ever heard of a civilized individual using such language!" "But you know I am not civilized, sir." Roundjacket shook his head. "There's the objection," he said; "it is absolutely necessary that a man who becomes the husband of a young lady should be civilized. But let us dismiss this subject--Redbud! Excuse me, Mr. Verty, but you are a very extraordinary young man;--to have you for--well, well. Don't allude to that again." "To what, sir?" "To Redbud." "Why, sir?" "Because I have nothing to do with it. I can only give you my general ideas on the subject of marriage. If you apply them, that is your affair. A pretty thing on an oath of discovery," murmured the poetical lawyer. Verty had not heard the last words; he was reflecting. Roundjacket watched him with a strange, wistful look, which had much kindness and feeling in it. "But why not marry?" said Verty, at last; "it seems to me sir, that people ought to marry; I think I could find a great many good reasons for it." "Could you; how many?" "A hundred, I suppose." "And I could find a thousand against it," said Roundjacket. "Mark me, sir--except under certain circumstances, a man is not the same individual after marrying--he deteriorates." "Anan?" said Verty.