"Certainly, and I urged him to do so," said Mr. Ireland, heavily. "I was in Italy at the time, and you were only an infant in arms." "Who was my nurse then?" "Jane Fraser--the Scotch nurse who afterward brought you to your grandfather Lockwood when Mr. Vane was murdered." "Do you remember the other nurse--the first one I had?" Mr. Ireland grew indignant, and puffed angrily at his cigar. "I do, indeed," he said wrathfully, "a vulgar, forward hussy. She was not bad-looking, either, and set up for being a lady." Here he began to laugh. "Would you believe it, George, my boy, she was in love with your father, and showed it so plainly that he was obliged to get rid of her?" "What was her name?" "Eliza Stokes. And she was handsome in a bouncing way." "What became of her?" "I can't tell you," said Ireland, with sudden reserve. "Did you see her after she was dismissed?" Ireland turned his cigar slowly and did not look at George when he replied. "Yes, I did. When and where it does not matter." "But it does matter--to me!" cried Brendon, anxiously. "It is to know about her that I came here to see you to-day." "I thought you came about your birth," said Ireland, sharply. "That among other things." The old man looked down again and appeared to be in deep thought. He was turning over in his own mind how much or how little he should tell George. And the young man looked at him anxiously. Much depended upon the speech of Mr. Ireland. At last the silence was broken, and by a most unexpected remark. "I loved your mother," said Ireland. "I never knew that," said Brendon, softly, for he saw that the man was moved at the recollection of some early romance. "I never spoke of it before," was the reply, and Ireland laid down his cigar to speak the more freely. "Yes, I loved Rosina Lockwood with all my heart and soul. I was not bad-looking in those days, George, and I had a good income, but she preferred that scamp," and he struck his hand heavily on the table, with glowing eyes. "You are talking of my father, sir," said Brendon, stiffly. "I ask your pardon. But if you wish me to tell the story of that most unfortunate affair you cannot hope that I shall keep my temper. I was very badly treated by--well--" with a glance at George, Ireland nodded--"let the dead rest in peace." "I think it will be as well," said Brendon, coldly.