"That is impolite, but true," said Towton with a grimace. "Go on." "You wish to marry." The Colonel shrugged his shoulders. "Every man wishes to marry." "You wish to marry a girl called Ida Dimsdale," went on the passionless voice, and Diabella refrained from making any comment on the remark. "Ah! Now you are becoming interesting. Why do I wish to marry Ida Dimsdale?" The reply was unexpected. "You desire to get her money in order to recover certain lands sold by your late cousin." "That is a lie." Towton grew a trifle red and spoke sharply. "I love Miss Dimsdale, and would take her without a penny." "That is how you will have to take her," replied Diabella coldly and without insisting upon the truth of her previous statement. "Nonsense! Miss Dimsdale has a large fortune." "You think she has ten thousand a year. She has nothing." Towton felt an astonishment which he could scarcely conceal, and wondered if Diabella had spoken in this way to Ida. "What do you mean?" "I mean that this girl is not the daughter of Martin Dimsdale." "What!" Towton rose in his surprise; "How dare you say that?" "I am only reading what I see," said Diabella wearily. "Your fortune and this girl's is connected, therefore I know of her past." "Past! Past!" fumed the Colonel, sitting down again. "She has no past in the sense you mean. She was born in Burmah, and her mother died shortly afterwards. Dimsdale sent her home to relatives, and afterwards she went to school at Hampstead. Five years ago he returned to settle in England and she has been with him ever since." "Quite true; but you are foolish to tell me so much, as now you will say that I merely echo what you have mentioned." "I have certainly not mentioned that she is not Dimsdale's daughter." "No. Yet it is true. Her name is Ida Menteith, and her father was a major in a native regiment. Menteith was with his wife in Burmah at a hill station called--called--wait until I get the name." Diabella stopped for one moment, then spoke out triumphantly, "It was called Goorkah Station, and was besieged by the Dacoits?" "Yes. I remember the station, but not a man called Menteith." "This happened before you went to India." "What happened?" asked Towton bluntly. "What I am about to tell you. Dimsdale was then a police-commissioner. He loved Mrs. Menteith, who returned his love, and hated the husband." "I don't believe that for one moment. Dimsdale was a good fellow, who would never make love to another man's wife." "Many good fellows do that," said Diabella sarcastically; "and Dimsdale did love Mrs. Menteith: so deeply that he did not save the husband's life when he could have done so." "That's an absolute lie," insisted Towton angrily. "How dare you malign a dead man who cannot defend himself!" "Martin Dimsdale's friend, George Venery, who is a merchant at Singapore, can prove the truth of what I say." "Rubbish! How do you know?"