“No.”

“From York state?”

“No.”

“From Pennsylvany?”

“No.”

“Mebby, then, you are from Kentucky?”

No answer.

“Be you from Kentucky?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know Mr. Graham’s folks?”

“Yes,” said Durward, trembling lest the next should be something concerning his stepfather—­but it was not.

Settling himself a little further back in the chair, Joel continued:  “Wall, I calkerlate that I’m some relation to Miss Graham.  Be you ’quainted with her?”

Durward knew that a relationship with Mrs.  Graham also implied a relationship with himself, and feeling a little curious as well as somewhat amused, he replied, “Related to Mrs. Graham!  Pray how?”

“Why, you see,” said Joel, “that my grandmarm’s aunt—­she was younger than grandmarm, and was her aunt tew.  Wall, she went off to Virginia to teach music, and so married a nabob—­know what that is, I s’pose; she had one gal and died, and this gal was never heard from until I took it into my head to look her up, and I’ve found out that she was Lucy Temple.  She married an Englishman, first—­then a man from South Carolina, who is now livin’ in Kentucky, between Versailles and Frankfort.”

“What was your grandmother’s aunt’s name?” asked Durward.

“Susan Howard,” returned Joel.  “The Howards were a stuck-up set, grandmarm and all—­not a bit like t’other side of the family.  My mother’s name was Scovandyke——­”

“And yours?” interrupted Durward.

“Is Joel Slocum, of Slocumville, Massachusetts, at your service,” said the young man, rising up and going through a most wonderful bow, which he always used on great occasions.

In a moment Durward knew who he was, and greatly amused, he said, “Can you tell me, Mr. Slocum, what relation this Lucy Temple, your great-great-aunt’s daughter, would be to you?”

“My third cousin, of course,” answered Joel.  “I figgered that out with a slate and pencil.”

“And her son, if she had one?”

“Would be my fourth cousin; no great connection, to be sure—­but enough to brag on, if they happened to be smart!”

“Supposing I tell you what I am Lucy Temple’s son?” said Durward, to which Joel, not the least suspicious, replied, “Wall, s’posin’ you du, ’twon’t make it so.”

“But I am, really and truly,” continued Durward.  “Her first husband was a Bellmont, and I am Durward Bellmont, your fourth cousin, it seems.”

“Jehosiphat!  If this ain’t curis,” exclaimed Joel, grasping Durward’s hand.  “How do you du, and how is your marm.  And do you know Helleny Rivers?”

Durward’s brow darkened as he replied in the affirmative, while Joel continued:  “We are from the same town, and used to think a sight of each other, but when I seen her in Kentucky, I thought she’d got to be mighty toppin’.  Mebby, though, ’twas only my notion.”