“Thank you,” answered Dr. Latimer, “it was my aim to make it so.”

“And you succeeded admirably,” replied Dr. Latrobe.  “I could not help thinking how much we owe to heredity and environment.”

“Yes,” said Dr. Gresham.  “Continental Europe yearly sends to our shores subjects to be developed into citizens.  Emancipation has given us millions of new citizens, and to them our influence and example should be a blessing and not a curse.”

“Well,” said Dr. Latimer, “I intend to go South, and help those who so much need helpers from their own ranks.”

“I hope,” answered Dr. Latrobe, “that if you go South you will only sustain business relations with the negroes, and not commit the folly of equalizing yourself with them.”

“Why not?” asked Dr. Latimer, steadily looking him in the eye.

“Because in equalizing yourself with them you drag us down; and our social customs must be kept intact.”

“You have been associating with me at the convention for several days; I do not see that the contact has dragged you down, has it?”

“You!  What has that got to do with associating with niggers?” asked Dr. Latrobe, curtly.

“The blood of that race is coursing through my veins.  I am one of them,” replied Dr. Latimer, proudly raising his head.

“You!” exclaimed Dr. Latrobe, with an air of profound astonishment and crimsoning face.

“Yes;” interposed Dr. Gresham, laughing heartily at Dr. Latrobe’s discomfiture.  “He belongs to that negro race both by blood and choice.  His father’s mother made overtures to receive him as her grandson and heir, but he has nobly refused to forsake his mother’s people and has cast his lot with them.”

“And I,” said Dr. Latimer, “would have despised myself if I had done otherwise.”

“Well, well,” said Dr. Latrobe, rising, “I was never so deceived before.  Good morning!”

Dr. Latrobe had thought he was clear-sighted enough to detect the presence of negro blood when all physical traces had disappeared.  But he had associated with Dr. Latimer for several days, and admired his talent, without suspecting for one moment his racial connection.  He could not help feeling a sense of vexation at the signal mistake he had made.

Dr. Frank Latimer was the natural grandson of a Southern lady, in whose family his mother had been a slave.  The blood of a proud aristocratic ancestry was flowing through his veins, and generations of blood admixture had effaced all trace of his negro lineage.  His complexion was blonde, his eye bright and piercing, his lips firm and well moulded; his manner very affable; his intellect active and well stored with information.  He was a man capable of winning in life through his rich gifts of inheritance and acquirements.  When freedom came, his mother, like Hagar of old, went out into the wide world to seek a living for herself and child.  Through years of poverty she labored to educate her child, and saw the glad fruition of her hopes when her son graduated as an M.D. from the University of P——.