"I am coming to that," said Lady Burville impatiently. "He was said to be drowned; and after a year of mourning I married Dargill." "You married Julian Edermont?" "Yes; what else could I do? I was comparatively poor; I had no friends to speak of. Dargill was rich, so I married him. We were quite happy, he and I, and he was very fond of you, my dear." "Oh! I was born then?" said Dora, rather naïvely, it must be confessed. "Certainly. Don't I tell you I married Dargill a year after your father died--eighteen months after my first marriage? Well, we were happy; and then your father returned. He also had been saved by some natives, who detained him on the Gold Coast. He managed to escape, and returned to England. Of course, he sought me out at Christchurch; and then, my dear," added Lady Burville impressively, "there was trouble." "Between my father and Mr. Dargill, _alias_ Edermont?" "Yes. Dargill was away at the time, and they never met. He was a coward, you know, my dear, and afraid of your father's violent temper--and he had a violent temper, truly awful. Dargill fled to America. George Carew followed him. Then Dargill escaped him in San Francisco, and returned to England. He wrote to me from London, and offered me an annuity if I would let him take you away." "And you did," said Dora reproachfully. "What could I do?" said her mother fretfully. "I was poor without Dargill's money. I could hardly keep you alive, and Carew had left me in his search for Dargill. I accepted the annuity and let you go. Then Dargill disappeared, and I never heard of him again till I saw him in Chillum Church." "Did you make no attempt to find him?" asked Dora coldly. "No; why should I have done so?" said Lady Burville. "He was not my real husband, you know, since my first--your father, my dear--was alive. I never wanted to set eyes on Dargill again. I am sure he got me into enough trouble as it was. He absolutely worried me into marrying him, and, as he was rich, I thought it best to do so. We should have been happy enough if Captain Carew had not proved to be alive. Then I wished I hadn't married Dargill." "Because you loved my father so?" "No, it wasn't that exactly," babbled Lady Burville, with great simplicity. "But Carew had a dreadful temper, and I thought he might kill me. However, he was more angry at Dargill than at me, and if he had caught him I really believe he would have killed him. But Dargill got away; he was an artful little creature, but a frightful coward. I don't know how I ever came to marry such a mouse of a man." "You forget he was rich." Dora could not forbear making this satirical remark. Every word that came out of Lady Burville's mouth showed her to be a vain, shallow fool; a heartless woman, who cared more for dress and gaiety and money than anything else. On the whole, Dora thought it was just as well that Dargill, _alias_ Edermont, had taken her away. She never would have got on with so frivolous a parent as Lady Burville.