Ireland shook his head. "I left the adoration of the aristocracy to Lockwood," he said, with something like a sneer, "but that's neither here nor there, my boy. To make a long story short, I met your mother in Paris, and shortly afterward she died, giving birth to you. Eliza Stokes was with her when she died, and you were given into the charge of that woman. Your mother was buried in Père la Chaise. Vane put up a stone to her--oh! he behaved very well, I don't deny that," added Ireland, but with a dark face; "he was really fond of her. And I suppose there was a marriage." "Did my mother ever say anything about it?" "Never. You asked me that before. It was an accepted fact. After the death of Rosina her husband went to Italy. I was there, too, and it was at Milan that the episode occurred which led to the dismissal of Eliza Stokes." "What was that?" "Why, there was a young English waiter, quite a boy he was, who fell in love with Eliza when she was taking charge of you at the Hôtel de Ville. She refused to marry him and hinted that she loved your father. Vane heard of this and taxed her with impertinence. The end of it was that Eliza said too much and was dismissed. And Jane Fraser was sent from England by Vane's mother to nurse you. That looks as though Lady Derrington believed in the marriage." "It does," admitted Brendon, hopefully. "She would not have sent a nurse had anything been wrong. On the other hand, if she had been quite certain about the marriage she might have offered to take charge of me." "She did, I believe, but your father was so fond of you--for your mother's sake--that he could scarcely bear you out of his sight. However, Eliza went, and Jane came, and then your father went to San Remo. You were then two years of age." "Did not my father return to England during all that time?" "No. When he left England with your mother he never returned. She died in Paris, and, with you in charge of a nurse, Vane wandered about the Continent. I was twice in Italy and saw him--the second time it was at San Remo." "If you disliked my father so much, why did you seek him out?" "To see you, George. You were her child, and I loved Rosina so dearly." Ireland stopped, gulped down his emotion, and proceeded more calmly: "Yes, I was at San Remo when your father was murdered." "You never told me that before," said Brendon. "I never told you anything before," replied Ireland, dryly. "And I should not tell you now, but that my health is getting so bad that I may not live long. I have an incurable disease, which will sooner or later carry me off--no, I don't want sympathy. Let me finish the story and then we need not refer to it again. I had intended to leave a written statement behind me for you, George, but this is better, as you can ask me questions about what you do not understand." "I understand all so far," said George, thoughtfully. "But about this murder, Mr. Ireland? Who killed my father?"