“It appears to me that you manifest an unusual interest in the Dales this morning,” Colonel Mapleson said. “What has aroused it? I did not suppose you were even aware of their existence.”
“Mother related something of their history to me. But you have not answered my question.”
“Yes, there was another family of Dales; at least, there was a widow, and her daughter, who lived in a cottage not far from Vue de l’Eau, a good many years ago. They came here in a very destitute condition, after Mr. Henry Dale’s death, and supported themselves by teaching and sewing.”
“And yet this old hermit, Robert Dale, had plenty, and let them toil for the necessities of life,” said Everet, indignantly.
“They were his own brother’s wife and child, too; but——” began Colonel Mapleson, musingly, while he seemed to be busy with some memory of the past.
“Well, mother told me they were bitter enemies. What was the cause of it?” asked the young man, eagerly.
“Robert and Henry Dale both loved the same woman when they were young men. Henry won her, and Robert hated him ever afterward; that is the secret of his leading such a singular life, I suppose,” explained his father.
Everet flushed.
He was thinking of two other young men who loved the same woman, one of whom hated the other for having won, where he had failed.
“What became of the two women?” he asked, wishing to hear his father’s version of Annie Dale’s disappearance.