‘Ah! that surprises you, does it? It is true. Eve’s mother was your sister. Did Mr. Jordan never tell you that?’ ‘Never!’ ‘It is true. Sit down again to the cold potatoes. You shall know all, but first ask a blessing.’ CHAPTER XXIX. HUSH-MONEY. ‘YES,’ said Mr. Babb, settling himself on a chair; then finding he had sat on the tails of his coat, he rose, held a tail in each hand, and reseated himself between them; ‘yes.’ ‘Do you mean seriously to tell me that Mr. Jordan’s second wife was my sister?’ ‘Well—in a way. That is, I don’t mean your sister in a way, but his wife in a way.’ ‘I have heard nothing of this; what do you mean?’ ‘I mean that he did not marry her.’ Jasper Babb’s face darkened. ‘I have been in his house and spoken to him, and not known that. What became of my sister?’ The old man fidgeted on his chair. It was not comfortable. ‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Did she die?’ ‘No,’ said Mr. Babb, ‘she ran off with a play-actor.’ ‘Well—and after that?’ ‘After what? After the play-actor? I do not know, I have not heard of her since. I don’t want to. Was not that enough?’ ‘And Mr. Jordan—does he know nothing?’ ‘I cannot tell. If you are curious to know you can ask.’ ‘This is very extraordinary. Why did not Mr. Jordan tell me the relationship? He knew who I was.’ The old man laughed, and Jasper shuddered at his laugh, there was something so base and brutal in it. ‘He was not so proud of how he behaved to Eve as to care to boast of the connection. You might not have liked it, might have fizzed and gone pop.’ Jasper’s brow was on fire, his eyebrows met, and a sombre sparkle was in his eye. ‘You have made no effort to trace her?’ Mr. Babb shrugged his shoulders. ‘Tell me,’ said Jasper, leaning his elbow on the table, and putting his hand over his eyes to screen them from the light, and allow him to watch his father’s face—’tell me everything, as you undertook. Tell me how my poor sister came to Morwell, and how she left it.’ ‘There is not much to tell,’ answered the father; ‘you know that she ran away from home after her mother’s death; you were then nine or ten years old. She hated work, and lusted after the pomps and vanities of this wicked world. After a while I heard where she was, that she was ill, and had been taken into Morwell House to be nursed, and that there she remained after her recovery.’ ‘Strange,’ mused Jasper; ‘she fell ill and was taken to Morwell, and I—it was the same. Things repeat themselves; the world moves in a circle.’