"I lived with the two of them during their married life. A son was born, and she died. I was glad when she died, and I was sorry she left the boy. Percy was wrapped up in the child, and gave him to me to nurse. Mrs. Vane was buried in Père la Chaise, and then Percy, with myself and the baby, went to Monte Carlo. He gambled there in order to forget his grief--though I don't see what he had to moan over, seeing what a silly fool his late wife was. Percy lost money, and wrote to his father, who declined to help him. Then he went to Italy and wandered about. Now that he was free I hoped to marry him. When not nursing that horrid child--he was called George after his maternal grandfather, and was a scrubby little beast. Some said he was a fine child. I could not see it, myself. He was her child, and that was enough to make me hate him as I did. But as I say, when not nursing him, I devoted myself to study so as to be worthy of the time when Percy would marry me. I knew that the future Lady Derrington would hold a high rank, and I qualified myself to fill the position gracefully. I did work. I learned arithmetic, and could write beautifully. I talked Italian and French like a native. I got an old artist to teach me to paint in water-colors, and I bought a book which taught the manners of good society. Also I tried to dress well, and do my hair becomingly. Percy saw the change in me, and congratulated me on the improvement which had taken place in me since leaving England. Had he only known that it was for his sake I had improved! "As to that child, I should have liked to drown it, or to have given it to gypsies. As Lady Derrington, I did not wish to be troubled with her brat. Besides, Percy loved the boy so, that he used to make me envious the way he nursed him. But had I got rid of the child--and I thought of a thousand safe ways I could have done so--I should only have been sent away, and then some woman would have got hold of him. I thought it best to bear with my aching pain and put up with the child so that I might be near to watch over Percy. "The end of it came in Milan. We were stopping at the Hôtel de Ville, and there was a waiter who fell in love with me. He was an English boy, called George Rates--a horrid, scrubby, red-haired, nasty, pale-faced creature, who worried me to death. Besides, he was younger than I was, and I wished for a husband to protect me. I should have had to look after George Rates, whereas Percy, in the days to come, would look after me. Besides, I felt that it was an impertinence for a low waiter to expect me to marry him--me, who had done so much to improve myself, and who looked forward to taking proud rank among the British aristocracy.