They walked for a quarter of an hour, turning at last into a quiet, genteel byway westward of Regent Street, and so into a club house of respectable appearance.  Daniel wrote his brother’s name, and led up to the smoking-room, which they found unoccupied.

“You smoke?—­I am very glad to hear it.  I began far too young, and have suffered.  It’s too early to drink—­and perhaps you don’t do that either?—­Really?  Vegetarian also, perhaps?—­Why, you are the model son of your father.  And the regime seems to suit you. Per Bacco! couldn’t follow it myself:  but I, like our fat friend, am little better than one of the wicked.  So you are one-and-twenty.  You have entered upon your inheritance, I presume?”

Piers answered with a look of puzzled inquiry.

“Haven’t you heard about it?  The little capital due to you.”

“Not a word!”

“That’s odd. Was soil es bedeuten?—­By the bye, I suppose you speak German well?”

“Tolerably.”

“And French?”

“Moderately.”

“Benissimo!” Daniel had just lit a cigar; he lounged gracefully, observing his brother with an eye of veiled keenness.  “Well, I think there is no harm in telling you that you are entitled to something —­your mother’s money, you know.”

“I had no idea of it,” replied Piers, whom the news had in ’some degree excited.

“Apropos, why don’t you live with father?  Couldn’t you read as well down there?”

“Not quite, I think, and—­the truth is, the stepmother doesn’t much like me.  She’s rather difficult to get on with you know.”

“I imagined it.  So you’re just in lodgings?”

“I am with some people called Hannaford.  I got to know them at Geneva—­they’re not very well off; I have a room and they board me.”

“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——?”