"What do you mean?"
"There is no reasonable doubt, although we cannot prove it, that your grandfather Petre was married previously to his marriage with Lady Alicia Staunton, that your father James was the real Ravenshoe, and that Ellen and yourself are the elder children, while poor Cuthbert and William——"
"Cuthbert! Does he know of this? I will hide again; I will never displace Cuthbert, mind you."
"Charles, Cuthbert will never know anything about it. Cuthbert is dead. He was drowned bathing last August."
Hush! There is something, to me, dreadful in a man's tears. I dare say that it was as well, that night, that the news of Cuthbert's death should have made him break down and weep himself into quietness again like a child. I am sure it was for the best. But it is the sort of thing that good taste forbids one to dwell upon or handle too closely.
When he was quiet again, John went on:
"It seems incredible that you should have been able to elude us so long. The first intelligence we had of you was from Lady Ascot, who saw you in the Park."
"Lady Ascot? I never saw my aunt in the Park."
"I mean Adelaide. She is Lady Ascot now. Lord Ascot is dead."
"Another of them!" said Charles. "John, before you go on, tell me how many more are gone."