A wonder flitted through her mind as to why he had told her; then another question surged.

She gave it tongue.
"You have told me so much, Mr.Caryll," she said, "that I am emboldened to ask something more." His eyes invited her to put her question.
"Your--your father?
Was he related to Lord Ostermore ?" Not a muscle of his face moved.

"Why that ?" he asked.
"Because your name is Caryll," said she.
"My name ?" he laughed softly and bitterly.

"My name ?" He reached for an ebony cane that stood beside his chair.

"I had thought you understood." He heaved himself to his feet, and she forgot to caution him against exertion.