"How do you make out that?" I went on, willing to know more, yet inquiring rather as if to test the accuracy of her information than to gain any.
"Semna Diotha, your grandmother, and Asta Diotha, my grandmother and Reva's, were sisters."
"Well?" said I when she paused.
"So your mother and ours are first cousins, which makes you our second cousin."
From the silent acquiescence of the elders, I saw that this was accepted as a correct statement of our relationship. I accepted without comment the crowd of newly acquired relatives. I had ceased to wonder at any thing. There was an undefined pleasure, too, in finding myself related, but not too nearly, to the beautiful Reva. I might have been proved her brother or grandfather, so I felt reason to be thankful.
I might have tried to gain indirectly some further information in regard to my relatives, but that we now rose from table. A small cup of black coffee—better I had never tasted—was the only stimulant of which we had partaken. The handsome carafes in the centre of the table contained, not wine, but iced sherbets.
"The habitual use of stimulants," said Utis in the course of a subsequent conversation on the subject, "has been proved by experience to be dangerous, if not absolutely hurtful, to the young and vigorous. Some wine is used, indeed, but only by persons above seventy. In younger years, wine is not only distasteful to our healthy. and vigorous organizations, but is especially shunned on account of its interference with that clearness of intellect from which we derive our highest enjoyment. Tea
