"Yes, yes, child, you are old enough, if that were all," the man
returned, with livid lips, a shudder shaking his strong frame from
head to foot.

Mona also grew very pale as she observed him, and a look of apprehension
swept over her face at his ominous words.

"Was there anything wrong about mamma?" she began, tremulously.

"No, no!" Mr. Dinsmore interposed, almost passionately; "she was the
purest and loveliest woman in the world, and her fate was the saddest in
the world."

"And my father?" breathed the girl, trembling visibly.

"Was a wretch! a faithless brute!" was the low, stern reply.

"What became of him?"

"Do not ask me, child," the excited man returned, almost fiercely, but
white to his lips, "he deserves only your hatred and contempt, as he has
mine. Your mother, as you have been told, died in London, a much wronged
and broken-hearted woman, where she had lived for nearly three months in
almost destitute circumstances. The moment I learned of her sad condition
I hastened to London to give her my care and protection; but she was
gone--she had died three days before my arrival, and I found only a wee
little baby awaiting my care and love."

A bitter sob burst from the man's lips at this point, but after
struggling for a moment for self-control, he resumed: