I wish it was not.

Ours has been a wild, unhappy race till the last generation or two.

The stormy nature came in with old Sir Ralph, the fierce Norman knight, who killed his only son in a fit of wrath, by a blow with his steel gauntlet, because the boy's strong will would not yield to his." "Yes, I remember, and his daughter Clotilde held the castle during a siege, and married her cousin, Count Hugo.

'Tis a warlike race, and I like it in spite of the mad deeds." "Married her cousin! That has been the bane of our family in times past.
Being too proud to mate elsewhere, we have kept to ourselves till idiots and lunatics began to appear.

My father was the first who broke the law among us, and I followed his example: choosing the freshest, sturdiest flower I could find to transplant into our exhausted soil." "I hope it will do you honor by blossoming bravely.