The mother, as if a spring had been touched in her, began: "He married
me just thirty years ago, ma'am; and four months after my eldest was
born--that's John there"--(pointing to the corner near the door)--"he
just walked out of the house and left me. I'm sorry to have to say it.
Yes, sorry I am! But there it is. And never a word had I ever given him!
And eight months after that my twins were born. That's Harry and
Matthew"--(pointing to the sofa)--"Harry I called after his father
because I thought he was like him, and just to show I bore no
ill-feeling, and hoping he'd come back! And there I was with these
little children! And not a word of explanation did I ever have. I heard
of Harry five years later--when Johnnie was nearly five--but he was on
the Continent and I couldn't go traipsing about with three babies.
Besides, if I _had_ gone!... Sorry I am to say it, ma'am; but many's the
time he's beaten me, yes, with his hands and his fists! He's knocked me
about above a bit. And I never gave him a word back. He was my husband,
for better for worse, and I forgave him and I still do. Forgive and
forget, that's what I say. We only heard of him through Matthew being
second curate at St. Paul's, and in charge of the mission hall. It was
your milkman that happened to tell Matthew that he had a customer same
name as himself. And you know how one thing leads to another. So we're
here!"

"I never saw this lady in my life," said Priam excitedly, "and I'm
absolutely certain I never married her. I never married any one; except,
of course, you, Alice!"

"Then how do you explain this, sir?" exclaimed Matthew, the younger
twin, jumping up and taking a blue paper from his pocket. "Be so good as
to pass this to father," he said, handing the paper to Alice.