“I have never been there since we broke up our home,” resumed the colonel, with a heavy sigh. “The girl, Margaret, who had served my wife most faithfully ever since our marriage, married, as you know already, a man by the name of Henly. They were going to California to live, and she said she would take care of my boy until I could make some better provision for him. I knew not what else I could do, so I accepted her offer. I broke up my home, gave away what I could not sell of the furniture, and we left the place, the Henlys taking you, Geoffrey, to California, where I planned to visit you when I could. I returned to my interests in the other mines where I tried to drown my grief by working as a common miner. But time, instead of healing my wound, only made it rankle worse. I grew bitter and antagonistic; the happiness of others maddened me; the fortune I had before been so willing to release, for the sake of her I loved, I now vowed I would keep out of spite for my loss. I resolved to keep my marriage a secret. I would keep all my wealth, and as my boy grew older he should have the benefit of it, even though I should never be able to acknowledge him as mine. But I was restless, I could not remain long in one place at a time, and I wandered from place to place trying to drown my sorrow in excitement. Four times, after an interval of six months between each, I visited the Henlys. My child was growing finely and doing well every way, so I decided to let him remain where he was until he should be old enough to go to school; then something impelled me to come back to my home. I put my affairs all into the hands of an agent, and six years from the time of my leaving Vue de l’Eau found me here again once more assuming the duties of its master. A few weeks later I met my cousin, Miss Everet. Estelle,” with a glance toward his wife, “do you mind my telling it all?” “No,” was the brief, low response. “She appeared very glad to renew the acquaintance of former years, although no allusion to our uncle’s will was at that time made by either of us. “She had grown very beautiful, had been much in society, and possessed charming manners. One day, during a call upon her, she playfully remarked that it was her birthday and she had not been the recipient of a single gift. “‘You should have mentioned that fact before,’ I returned, ‘but perhaps it is not too late even yet, for some remembrance of the day. Tell the number of your years and you shall have a rose for every one.’ “I knew well enough, but I would not appear to know. “‘Twenty-four,’ she replied, and her face clouded as she said it. “I could tell well enough what she was thinking of; in one year more she would be twenty-five, then Robert Dale could claim her fortune, and a life of poverty would lie before her.