conditions under which you were adopted by Squire Hinsley,
and Kate was adopted by my father, when you were left orphans, homeless,
destitute--"

"Thank you. You are right. Quite destitute; I may say desperately
destitute; though as I was six years of age at the time, and Kate but
two, I have forgotten the painful particulars. Proceed."

"You know well," continued Mr. Reed, with quiet precision, "the
agreement signed, sealed, and delivered, in the presence of witnesses,
between my parents and John Hinsley on the one side, and your uncle and
lawful guardian, Samuel Slade, on the other. The adoption was absolute.
Kate was to have no legal claim on John Hinsley or his family; and you
were to have none upon my father and his family. She was to be to my
father, in all respects but birth, his own child,--his, Henry Reed's, to
support and educate, sharing the fortune of his own children during his
life, and receiving an equal share of his estate at his death; all of
which was literally and faithfully fulfilled. And you were adopted by
John Hinsley under similar conditions, excepting that they were, in
fact, more favorable. He and his wife were childless, and rich in
worldly goods; and they agreed to shelter and educate you--in fact, so
long as you continued to obey and honor them, to treat you in all
respects as their son and heir. You know the sequel. You had a pleasant
home, tender care, and conscientious training; but, in spite of all, you
were lazy, worthless, treacherous,--a source of constant grief and
anxiety to the good pair who had hoped to find in you a son to comfort
their old age--"

"Thank you, again!" exclaimed Eben Slade; "I always liked frankness."

"In time, and with good cause, they discarded you," continued Mr. Reed,
without noticing the interruption, "and my father, for Kate's sake, did
all in his power to win you to a decent life, but in vain. Later, in
dire want and trouble, when even your worthless companions threw you
off, you appealed to me, and I induced Mr. and Mrs. Hinsley to give you
one more trial. But you fell into bad company again and ran away,
deserting your adopted parents just when they were beginning to trust
you. Your subsequent course I do not know, nor where you have been from
that day to this. I only know that, although during your boyhood you
were free to visit your sister, you never showed the slightest interest
in her, nor seemed to care whether she were living or dead. Even when