"Perhaps you think I am joking; but I am not."
"You really don't mean to say that you are my cousin."
"I do really mean to say it, and I know it is true."
"How can that be?"
"It so happens that my mother and your father are brother and sister; and I believe the relationship of cousin is usually established in some such way."
"Doubtless you are quite right, Mr. Philip; but my father has but one sister, and she does not happen to have any children. Therefore I cannot possibly have any such cousin as you mention," said she, smiling at what she deemed her overwhelming argument; and perhaps she thought I was getting up a conspiracy against her.
"Your conclusion would be entirely just if the premises were correct. Your father's sister had one child."
"Had, but has not now. Her little son was lost on the Missouri River."
"Supposed to be lost, but not lost," I replied, warmly. "I am that son."
"Do you really mean so, Philip?" she inquired, looking at me earnestly, as if to fathom the trick I was playing upon her.