er's reprimand than at the word "childishness."
Without taking the slightest notice of her son's mood, the mother began: "You know that I was a widow when I married your father, and that there is a son of the first marriage still living. You also know that he has been reared in Germany. You will soon see him and make his acquaintance."
"Do you mean my brother Waldemar?"
"Yes, Waldemar Nordeck. He lives here in the neighborhood, upon his guardian's estate. I have written to him of our arrival, and hope to see him in a few days."
Leo's ill-humor vanished, and he showed deep interest in the subject of conversation. "Mamma," he said, hesitatingly, "will you not tell me something definite concerning these family matters? I only know that your first marriage was unhappy, that you had a falling out with Waldemar's relatives and his guardian, and I learned this by hints from my uncle and the old servants of our house. I never questioned my parents; I saw that this topic wounded my father a