t this priest should say it to my face!"
"Yes, it only remained for him to undertake the defence of the parents," Albrecht interposed, disdainfully. "And they called their boy Michael. They presumed to give him your name,--the ancient traditional name of our family. The insult is apparent."
"It may have been the result of repentance," Steinrueck said, gloomily. "Your son is called Raoul."
"Not at all; he was christened by your name, which he bears."
"In the church register! He is called Raoul; your wife has seen to that."
"It is the name of Hortense's father, and she clings to it with filial devotion. You know this, and you have never found any fault with it."
"If it were the name alone! But it is not the only thing foreign to me in my grandson. There is no trace of the Steinrueck in Raoul, either in face or in character; he resembles his mother."
"I should not reckon that against him. Hortense has always been considered a beauty. You have no idea how many conq
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