Uncle Bryan is her father; so that you see Jessie and I are cousins.'
Josey did not express the surprise I expected she would; an expression of thoughtfulness was in her face.
'Go on, Chris; I am waiting to hear more.'
'Well, neither Jessie nor uncle Bryan knew of the relationship existing between them until the day that Jessie went away from this house, and then it came upon them both like a thunderbolt. It was because Jessie discovered that uncle Bryan was her father that she ran away from him.'
'That sounds very dreadful, Chris.'
'There is a dreadful story attached to it--which I mustn't tell you nor anybody, Josey. They are both very much to be pitied; but I am not sure that I don't pity uncle Bryan more than I do Jessie. However, there it is; they are father and daughter, and they are separated. Never mind what has passed, I ask you is this right--is it natural? Uncle Bryan is an old man, and cannot have many years to live. That he repents many things he has been unconsciously guilty of in the past, I am certain.'
'That's a curious phrase,' interrupted Josey, with her thoughtful manner still upon her. 'Unconsciously guilty.'
'It is a correct one. His has not been conscious guilt; what was bad in his character was stamped in him, and was almost forced to take root by the unfortunate circumstances in his early life; what was good never had a chance. We all have good and bad in us, Josey, and surrounding circumstances have much to do in making one or the other predominate in our characters. What is that thought that crossed your eyes just now, Josey?'
'I was thinking that you have grown into a perfect philosopher, Chris. Go on.'
'Say that uncle Bryan had been blessed with such a mother as my mother is--he would have been a different man; he couldn't have helped being a better man. He would have believed in God, in goodness; he would not have grown into a misanthrope. Josey, if there is anything good in me--and I hope I am not all bad--I have mother only to thank for it. It makes me tremble to think that I was so nearly losing her, and that her love for me was very nearly her death; and I know, to my sorrow, that for a long time I repaid her affection with indifference. Well, but that is all over now, thank God. If uncle Bryan had had a good, tender, considerate mother, many unhappy things would not have occurred to him, and it might have been better for Jessie also. As I said, it is dreadful to think of father and daughter being separated as they are, and to think that uncle Bryan might die without a word of affection passing between them. Well, that was the thought in my mind when I said to mother to-day that she ought to go to Jessie; for if mother finds uncle Bryan--and I have an idea that she will--no one but she can bring him and Jessie together.'