And he looked kindly at the boy, who smiled.
"Friends?" said Hoffland; "we are cousins!"
"Cousins? Indeed!"
"Certainly, my dear fellow," said Hoffland, with a delightful ease and bonhomie. "I have discovered that my great-grandmother married the cousin of an uncle of cousin Lucy's great-grandfather's wife's aunt; and moreover, that this aunt was the niece of my great-uncle's first wife's husband. That makes it perfectly plain—don't it, Mr. Denis? Take care how you differ with me: cousin Lucy understands it perfectly, and she has a very clear head."
"Thank you, sir," said Lucy, laughing; "a great compliment."
"Not at all," said Hoffland; "some women have a great deal of sense—or at least a good deal."
"Indeed, sir!"
"Yes; but it is not their failing generally. I have taken up that impression of you, cousin Lucy, from our general conversation; not from your ability to comprehend so simple a genealogical table as that of our relationship."
"Upon my word, I don't understand it," said Mowbray, smiling.
"Is it possible, Ernest? Listen again, then. My great-grandfather—recollect him, now—married the uncle of a cousin—observe, the uncle of a cousin——"