rd!"

"That's odd. _Was soil es bedeuten_?--By the bye, I suppose you speak
German well?"

"Tolerably."

"And French?"

"Moderately."

"_Benissimo_!" Daniel had just lit a cigar; he lounged gracefully,
observing his brother with an eye of veiled keenness. "Well, I think
there is no harm in telling you that you are entitled to
something--your mother's money, you know."

"I had no idea of it," replied Piers, whom the news had in 'some degree
excited.

"Apropos, why don't you live with father? Couldn't you read as well
down there?"

"Not quite, I think, and--the truth is, the stepmother doesn't much
like me. She's rather difficult to get on with you know."

"I imagined it. So you're just in lodgings?"

"I am with some people called Hannaford. I got to know them at
Geneva--they're not very well off; I have a room and they board me."

"I must look you up there--Piers, my dear boy, I suppose you know your
mother's history?"

It was asked with an affected carelessness, with a look suggestive of
delicacy in approaching the subject. More and more perturbed, Piers
abruptly declared his ignorance; he sat in an awkward attitude, bending
forward; his brows were knit, his dark eyes had a solemn intensity, and
his square jaw asserted itself more than usual.

"Well, between brothers, I don't see why you shouldn't. In fact, I am a
good deal surprised that the worthy old man has held his peace about
that legacy, and I don't think I shall scruple to tell you all I know.
You are aware, at all events, that our interesting parent has been a
little unfortunate in his matrimonial adventures. His first wife--not
to pick one's phrase--quarrelled furiously with him. His second, you
inform me, is somewhat difficult to live with."

"His _third_," interrupted Piers.

"No, my dear boy," said the other gravely, sympathetically. "That
intermediate connection was not legal."

"Not----? My mother was not----?"

"Don't worry about it," proceeded Daniel in a kind tone. "These are the
merest prejudices, you know. She could not become Mrs. Otway, being
already Mrs. Somebody-else. Her death, I fear, was a great misfortune
to our parent. I have gathered that they suited each other--fate, you
know, plays these little tricks. Your mother, I am sure, was a most
charming and admirable woman--I remember her portrait. _A l'heure qu'il
est_, no doubt, it has to be kept out of sight. She had, I am given to
understand, a trilling capital of her