"But about Mr. Barton?" asked Miriam, bringing the good lady back to the subject in hand. "I am very curious to hear this story of his."
"I can soon tell it to you. Barton was a younger son—a gay, light-hearted young fellow, not unlike Gerald Arkel, but of course with ten times the brains. He was engaged to marry a pretty, and, strange to say, sensible girl, who would no doubt have made him an excellent wife. But one of his sisters—Arkel's mother—took it upon her to interfere (so like them!), with the result that the girl married somebody else. Well, Barton, who was always a nervous, highly strung sort of creature, went off his head altogether, and was seriously bad for years. While he lived his elder brother looked after him, but unfortunately the brother died, and Barton came in for the property. He then had to go his own way, and a pretty mess he made of it."
"But what reason had his sister for interfering—surely it was very wrong?"
Mrs. Parsley rubbed her nose, as she was wont to do when puzzled.
"Of course it was wrong, my dear; but I never did get at the exact truth. There was a great deal of talk about it at the time—some said one thing some another. Barton and Mrs. Arkel—she was Flora Barton then—held their tongues you may be sure. But I had my own opinion, and I still have it," concluded Mrs. Parsley, frowning at the fire.
"And what is it?" said Miriam. "But perhaps I should not ask."
"Oh yes, you may, my dear. You are very discreet I know. I don't mind telling you. Well, Flora was very much in love with a man named Farren, a penniless scamp though of good family. She ended by eloping with him, and Barton (our friend) followed her and brought her back. The man went off to India—was bribed to go! He's never been right in his head since either, I believe. Flora never forgave her brother, and out of revenge she made up some disgraceful story about him, and went straight with it to the girl with whom he was in love, a Miss Cotton, who, without giving him the benefit of the doubt, sent back his ring, and of course broke off the engagement. He tried to see her, but her mother, who was also prejudiced by Flora's story, took her away at once, and eventually the girl married some other man. The thing so preyed upon Barton's mind, that he got brain fever, as I told you, and Flora married—was forced, I think, to marry—Arkel. She had one son, and died. But Barton never forgave her. And," added Mrs. Parsley, with great emphasis, "that is the part I never could make out!"
"What do you mean?" asked Miriam, much interested.
"Why, when Arkel's father died, Barton took his nephew and had him educated, and, in fact, has allowed him an income ever since. From all accounts he intends to make him his heir. Now," said Mrs. Parsley, looking directly at Miriam, "why, I ask, should a vindictive creature like that be so kind to the son of the sister whom he detested?"
Miriam could have answered that question very quickly; but she felt she had no right to betray the Squire's confidence; she therefore contented herself with asking Mrs. Parsley in what particular way she considered Barton "queer."