“Yes, there was another family of Dales; at least, there was a widow, and her daughter, who lived in a cottage not far from Vue de l’Eau, a good many years ago. They came here in a very destitute condition, after Mr. Henry Dale’s death, and supported themselves by teaching and sewing.” “And yet this old hermit, Robert Dale, had plenty, and let them toil for the necessities of life,” said Everet, indignantly. “They were his own brother’s wife and child, too; but——” began Colonel Mapleson, musingly, while he seemed to be busy with some memory of the past. “Well, mother told me they were bitter enemies. What was the cause of it?” asked the young man, eagerly. “Robert and Henry Dale both loved the same woman when they were young men. Henry won her, and Robert hated him ever afterward; that is the secret of his leading such a singular life, I suppose,” explained his father. Everet flushed. He was thinking of two other young men who loved the same woman, one of whom hated the other for having won, where he had failed. “What became of the two women?” he asked, wishing to hear his father’s version of Annie Dale’s disappearance. “Mrs. Dale died many years ago, and the daughter, I believe, went somewhere to be a governess. But, gracious! Everet, it is nearly ten o’clock!” suddenly interjected Colonel Mapleson, looking at his watch in surprise, “and I promised to meet Major Winterton in town, at a quarter before eleven, to look at his sorrel mare. I am talking of buying her for a saddle horse. I must be off at once. Will you come with me?” “Thanks, no. I think I will lounge about home for to-day,” the young man replied, but feeling somewhat disappointed at having their conversation so abruptly terminated. Colonel Mapleson bade his son good-morning, and hurried from the room to order his horse, while Everet sat musing upon what he had learned, and wondering what his next step would be to ascertain what Annie Dale’s fate had been, after going to Richmond to seek her fortune. CHAPTER XX. AN INTERESTING DWELLING. Colonel Mapleson received a letter from his wife, a day or two after Everet’s return to Vue de l’Eau begging him to come to Newport to join herself and friends. She wrote that she was an odd one in the party, and although every one was very kind, she felt rather embarrassed to be without an escort, which marred her enjoyment very much; if he could not come she should return home. Everet urged his father to go, and the colonel, feeling that it would be too bad to have his wife’s holiday spoiled, decided that he would gratify her, packed his portmanteau, and started off at once. Everet accompanied him to the station, and gave a sigh of relief as he watched out of sight the train that bore his father northward, for he felt that he could now pursue the investigations he was contemplating independently, and without fear of criticism.