or more noble woman ever ruled at Earlescourt than your
mother, Ronald. She is the daughter of 'a hundred earls,' high-bred,
beautiful, and refined. Now, let me ask you, in the name of common
sense, do you wish to place my lodge keeper's daughter by your mother's
side? Admit that she is pretty and good--is it in the fitting order of
things that she should be here?"

For the first time, in the heedless, fiery course of his love, Ronald
Earle paused. He looked at the serene and noble face before him, the
broad brow, the sweet, arched lips, the refined patrician features, and
there came to him the memory of another face, charming, shy and
blushing, with a rustic, graceful beauty different from the one before
him as sunlight compared to moonlight. The words faltered upon his
lips--instinctively he felt that pretty, blushing Dora had no place
there. Lord Earle looked relieved as he saw the doubt upon his son's
face.

"You see it, Ronald," he cried. "Your idea of the 'fusion' of races is
well enough in theory, but it will not do brought into practice. I
have been patient with you--I have treated you, not as a school boy
whose head is half turned by his first love, but as a sensible man
endowed with reason and thought. Now give me a reward. Promise me
here that you will make a brave effort, give up all foolish thoughts of
Dora Thorne, and not see her again. Go abroad for a year or two--you
will soon forget this boyish folly, and bless the good sense that has
saved you from it. Will you promise me, Ronald?"

"I can not, father," he replied, "for I have promised Dora to make her
my wife. I can not break my word. You yourself could never counsel
that."

"In this case I can," said Lord Earle, eagerly. "That promise is not
binding, even in honor; the girl herself, if she has any reason, can
not and does not expect it."

"She believed me," said Ronald, simply. "Besides, I love her, father."

"Hush," replied Lord Earle, angrily, "I will listen to no more
nonsense. There is a limit to my patience. Once and for all, Ronald,
I tell you that I decidedly forbid any mention of such a marriage; it
is degrading and ridiculous. I forbid you to marry Dora Thorne; if you
disobey me, you must bear the penalty."

"And what would the penalty be?" asked the heir of Earlescourt, with a
coolness and calmness that irritated the father.

"One you would hardly wish to pay," replied the earl. "If, in spite of
my prayers, entr