It is a confidence--no more." Roger put down the letter.

His head was in a whirl.

He only half heard the notes of the tutor's sonata as they rose and fell on his ear.
Presently, with beating heart, he read on-- "You had a brother once--a namesake--whom you never saw, and perhaps never heard of.

You never mourned his loss, for he was gone before you were born.

Twenty-two years ago he was a boy of 16--a fine, high- spirited Ingleton.