ear Batavia; that and your
grandfather."

"Grandfather Bankhead," he mused; "they don't make any finer characters
nowadays than he was--or as fine."

"Bankhead?" she asked suddenly; "was that your grandfather's name?"

"It was: Abner Greenlow Bankhead. It is not such a very usual name. Have
you ever heard it before?"

"Heard it? Why--why, it was my mother's mother's maiden name! She was a
Bankhead, and she married Josiah Greenlow Bradford!"

Prime dropped both paddle and knife.

"Well--wouldn't that jar you!" he exclaimed. "Can it be possible
that--hold on a minute; my grandfather had a Bankhead cousin who grew up
in the family, and she married and moved to Ohio, away along back in the
other century. What was your grandmother's Christian name?"

"It was an old-fashioned one--Lorinda. I can remember her indistinctly
as a little old lady with white hair and the brightest possible blue
eyes."

Prime was wagging his head as one in a daze. "It is too wonderful to be
true, Lucetta! But it must be true. My grandfather's cousin's name was
Lorinda, and I can remember seeing an oil portrait of her, a horrible
thing done by some local artist, hanging in the old farmhouse at
Batavia. I can't figure it out, but the way it is working around, we
ought to be cousins of some sort. Can you believe it?"

The young woman put her mending aside to trace the relationship
thoughtfully, counting the generations on her finger-tips. When she had
finally determined to her own satisfaction that they really had a common
ancestor four generations back, she laughed.

"It is wonderful," she said; "almost too wonderful to be true. But the
wonder of it is completely overshadowed by the unbelievable coincidence
which dropped us two, cousins and descendants of that far-away Bankhead,
down together on the beach of a forest lake in the wilds of the Canadian
backwoods--a lake that neither of us ever saw or heard of before. Will
the mysteries never end?"

"Wait a minute; let's get it straight," Prime interposed. "We are really
cousins, aren't we? Don't you figure it out that way?"

"Third cousins; yes."

"You'll have to show me," he invited. "Genealogy is like Sanskrit to
me."

She proceeded to show him, and from that the talk drifted rather
excitedly into family reminiscences. After the manner of people who
really have ancestors, neither of them was able to remember many of the
traditions. Prime's recollections, indeed, stopped short with hi