England. She thought what your lot might be, if you
were really the son of this honorable man. She tells me that at this
time her love for you was like a terrible passion within her. Beyond all
things in the world she dreaded your learning your father's history--she
shuddered as she fancied your baby lips asking her artless questions
which she could never answer. Your father's name was, alas, notorious.
Bearing that name, you must one day learn the history of your father's
ruin, disgrace, dishonor."

"Mr. Ingram," said Bertram, "you are crushing me. How much more must you
say about my--my father?"

"Nothing more. I had to say this much to explain your mother's motive.
One day Major Bertram called to see her. He was going away. Before he
left he asked her to marry him. She refused. He persisted. She told him
her history. He said he knew it already. Then she put off her decision.
He might speak to her again on his return to Calcutta. It was during
Major Bertram's absence that the temptation which led to your mother's
sin came to her.

"Little Josephine was now between a year and two years old. On her
mother's side she was of low birth. Major Bertram had married beneath
him. He had fallen desperately in love with the beautiful daughter of a
strolling minstrel. He had married her, found out his mistake when too
late, but still, being a chivalrous and honorable man, had done his duty
by his ignorant young wife; had never allowed her to guess at his
feelings; and after her death had been filled with compunction for not
loving her more, and had done everything he could to secure the welfare
of their child.

"One person, however, he forbade the premises; with one individual he
would have nothing to do. That person was his wife's father. From the
moment he laid his young wife in her grave, he ignored the very
existence of Hart. Your mother tells me, Bertram, that Hart was in all
particuars a disreputable person. He was nothing but a needy adventurer,
and he only approached Major Bertram to sponge on him.

"During the Major's absence your mother thought long and seriously of
his proposals for her; the more she thought of them, the more desirable
did they seem. She thought of herself in the sheltered position of a
good man's wife. Above all, she thought of you. This marriage might save
you. Suppose Major Bertram, for love of her, consented to adopt you as
his son, to give you his name, and to present you to the world as his