"Pooh! he was in love with her, and a man in love is incapable of giving an opinion. However, I saw your mother several times when she sang, although I never met her to speak to. She was very beautiful and had an intellectual face. Yes, George, it is from her that you inherit your brain. From my side of the family you inherit a strong will and a propensity to fight. There is Irish blood in our veins," said Derrington, grimly. "Was my father a fighter?" "In a way, yes. But he had not a strong will, save in resisting me." George smiled and said nothing, but he privately thought that if Mr. Percy Vane could hold his own against Derrington he must have had a stronger will than the old gentleman gave him credit for. "However, to continue," pursued Derrington, pushing away his empty cup. "Percy saw Miss Lockwood, he fell in love with her, and finally he eloped. I wrote him a letter saying he was to return or I would never see him again. He declined to return, and remained on the Continent with his wife. I never did see him again," added Derrington, quietly, "for three years later he was murdered at San Remo." "In his letter to you did my father say he was married?" "He did; but at the time, as he did not say where the marriage was celebrated, I thought he mentioned it out of obstinacy." George colored. "I don't see why you should have so misjudged my mother," he said hotly. "Admitting that she was not born in the purple, she was in a good position and had no reason to run away with my father." "She was in love with him, I believe." "Even then she would not have eloped, unless it was to be married." Derrington nodded. "You are perfectly right," he said; "I tried to disbelieve in the marriage, but in my own heart I knew there was one. I have behaved very badly, George." "You have, sir. But as we are now reconciled the less said about the thing the better. You are quite sure you do not know where the marriage was celebrated?" "No, George, I do not. After the death of your father I tried to find out, but it was impossible. Had I really seen the register of the marriage I should have acknowledged you as my heir. As a matter of fact," added Derrington, with a burst of candor, "I did not trouble much to search, as I feared lest the marriage should be verified." George wriggled in his seat. "Let us say no more," he said. "Very good. I have confessed my sins and I have received absolution from you. At the present moment we will leave the murder of your father at San Remo alone, and come to the appearance of Mrs. Jersey in my life. You were with your grandfather Lockwood in Amelia Square. I had constituted my second son my heir, and I had relegated to obscurity the escapade of my son Percy. All was nicely settled, in my humble opinion, when Mrs. Jersey appeared to make trouble. That was eight years after your father's death." "Where was she in the mean time?"