"Relationship!" repeated William.
"For I share in the popular prejudice that exists against cousins marrying. But I am not going to make it an objection now, as you may believe, when I tell you that I foresaw long ago what your intimacy would probably end in. Your mother says it has been her cherished plan for years."
William listened in bewilderment. "She is no cousin of mine," he said.
"No what?" asked Mr. Arkell, pushing his glasses to the top of his forehead, the better to stare at his son—for those glasses served only for near objects, print and writing—"is the thought of this marriage turning your head, my boy?"
"I don't understand what you are speaking of," returned William, perfectly mystified; "I only said she was not my cousin."
"Why, bless my heart, what do you mean?" exclaimed Mr. Arkell. "She has been your cousin ever since she was born; she is the daughter of my poor brother Dan; do you want to disown the relationship now?"
"Are you talking of Mildred Arkell?" exclaimed the astonished young man. "I don't want to marry her. Mildred is a very nice girl as a cousin, but I never thought of her as a wife. I want Charlotte Travice!"
"Charlotte Travice!"
The change in the tone, the deep pain it betrayed, struck a chill on William's heart. Mr. Arkell gazed at him before he again broke the silence.
"How came you to tell your mother yesterday that you wanted to marry Mildred?"