"
"I must look you up there--Piers, my dear boy, I suppose you know
your mother's history?"
It was asked with an affected carelessness, with a look suggestive
of delicacy in approaching the subject. More and more perturbed,
Piers abruptly declared his ignorance; he sat in an awkward
attitude, bending forward; his brows were knit, his dark eyes had a
solemn intensity, and his square jaw asserted itself more than
usual.
"Well, between brothers, I don't see why you shouldn't. In fact, I
am a good deal surprised that the worthy old man has held his peace
about that legacy, and I don't think I shall scruple to tell you all
I know. You are aware, at all events, that our interesting parent
has been a little unfortunate in his matrimonial adventures. His
first wife--not to pick one's phrase--quarrelled furiously with
him. His second, you inform me, is somewhat difficult to live with."
"His _third_," interrupted Piers.
"No, my dear boy," said the other gravely, sympathetically. "That
intermediate connection was not legal."
"Not----? My mother was not----?"
"Don't worry about it," proceeded Daniel in a kind tone. "These are
the merest prejudices, you know. She could not become Mrs. Otway,
being already Mrs. Somebody-else. Her death, I fear, was a great
misfortune to our parent. I have gathered that they suited each
other--fate, you know, plays these little tricks.
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