rself by loving Tregear--but that a
great misfortune had fallen upon her. Silverbridge when he had gone
into a racing partnership with Tifto, and Gerald when he had played
for money which he did not possess, had--degraded themselves in
his estimation. He would not have used such a word; but it was
his feeling. They were less noble, less pure than they might have
been, had they kept themselves free from such stain. But this
girl,--whether she should live and fade by his side, or whether she
should give her hand to some fitting noble suitor,--or even though
she might at last become the wife of this man who loved her, would
always have been pure. It was sweet to him to have something to
caress. Now in the solitude of his life, as years were coming on him,
he felt how necessary it was that he should have someone who would
love him. Since his wife had left him he had been debarred from these
caresses by the necessity of showing his antagonism to her dearest
wishes. It had been his duty to be stern. In all his words to his
daughter he had been governed by a conviction that he never ought to
allow the duty of separating her from her lover to be absent from
his mind. He was not prepared to acknowledge that that duty had
ceased;--but yet there had crept over him a feeling that as he
was half conquered, why should he not seek some recompense in his
daughter's love? "Papa," she said, "you do not hate me?"

"Hate you, my darling?"

"Because I am disobedient. Oh, papa, I cannot help it. He should not
have come. He should not have been let to come." He had not a word
to say to her. He could not as yet bring himself to tell her,--that
it should be as she desired. Much less could he now argue with her
as to the impossibility of such a marriage as he had done on former
occasions when the matter had been discussed. He could only press his
arm tightly round her waist, and be silent. "It cannot be altered
now, papa. Look at me. Tell me that you love me."

"Have you doubted my love?"

"No, papa,--but I would do anything to make you happy; anything that
I could do. Papa, you do not want me to marry Lord Popplecourt?"

"I would not have you marry any man without loving him."

"I never can love anybody else. That is what I wanted you to know,
papa."

To this he made no reply, nor was there anything else said upon the
subject before the carriage drove up to the railway station. "Do not
get out, dear," he said, seeing that her eyes had