here, I must tell you
that my wife and I parted years ago, never to meet again. Do not
mention her to me--it pains me."

Lionel looked at the sad face; he could understand the shadows there
now.

"I will not," he said. "She must have been--"

"Not one word more," interrupted Lord Earle. "In your thoughts lay no
unjust blame on her. She left me of her own free will. My mother lives
with me; she will be pleased to see you. Remember--seven sharp."

"I shall not forget," said Lionel, pained at the sad words and the sad
voice.

As Lord Earle went home for the first time during the long years, a
softer and more gentle thought of Dora came to him. "She must have
been--" What--what did Lionel suspect of her? Could it be that,
seeing their divided lives, people judged as his young kinsman had
judged--that they thought Dora to blame--criminal, perhaps? And she
had never in her whole life given one thought to any other than
himself; nay, her very errors--the deed he could not pardon--sprung
from her great affection for him. Poor Dora! The pretty, blushing
face, with its sweet, shy eyes, and rosy lips, came before him--the
artless, girlish love, the tender worship. If it had been anything
else, any other fault, Ronald must have forgiven her in that hour. But
his whole heart recoiled again as the hated scene rose before him.

"No," he said, "I can not forgive it. I can not forget it. Men shall
respect Dora; no one must misjudge her; but I can not take her to my
heart or my home again. In the hour of death," he murmured, "I will
forgive her."

Chapter XXVI

Lady Earle thought her son looked graver and sadder that day than she
had ever seen him. She had not the clew to his reflections; she did
not know how he was haunted by the thought of the handsome, gallant
young man who must be his heir--how he regretted that no son of his
would ever succeed him--how proud he would have been of a son like
Lionel. He had but two children, and they must some day leave
Earlescourt for homes of their own. The grand old house, the fair
domain, must all pass into the hands of strangers unless Lionel married
one of the beautiful girls he loved so dearly.

Lady Helena understood a little of what was passing in his mind when he
told her that he had met Lionel Dacre, who was coming to dine with him
that day.

"I used to hope Beatrice might like him," said Lady Earle; "but that
will never be--Lord Airlie has been too quick.