all
that you tell me. I shall not see him, or write to him,--unless there
should be some very particular reason. And if I did see him or write
to him I would tell you. And of course I should not think of--of
marrying without your leave. But I shall expect you to let me marry
him."

"Never!"

"Then I shall think you are--cruel; and you will break my heart."

"You should not call your father cruel."

"I hope you will not be cruel."

"I can never permit you to marry this man. It would be altogether
improper. I cannot allow you to say that I am cruel because I do what
I feel to be my duty. You will see other people."

"A great many perhaps."

"And will learn to,--to,--to forget him."

"Never! I will not forget him. I should hate myself if I thought it
possible. What would love be worth if it could be forgotten in that
way?" As he heard this he reflected whether his own wife, this girl's
mother, had ever forgotten her early love for that Burgo Fitzgerald
whom in her girlhood she had wished to marry.

When he was leaving her she called him back again. "There is one
other thing I think I ought to say, papa. If Lady Cantrip speaks to
me about Mr. Tregear, I can only tell her what I have told you. I
shall never give him up." When he heard this he turned angrily from
her, almost stamping his foot upon the ground, when she quietly left
the room.

Cruel! She had told him that he would be cruel, if he opposed her
love. He thought he knew of himself that he could not be cruel,--even
to a fly, even to a political opponent. There could be no cruelty
without dishonesty, and did he not always struggle to be honest?
Cruel to his own daughter!

CHAPTER XII

At Richmond

The pity of it! The pity of it! It was thus that Lady Cantrip looked
at it. From what the girl's father had said to her she was disposed
to believe that the malady had gone deep with her. "All things go
deep with her," he had said. And she too from other sources had heard
something of this girl. She was afraid that it would go deep. It was
a thousand pities! Then she asked herself whether the marriage ought
to be regarded as impossible. The Duke had been very positive,--had
declared again and again that it was quite impossible, had so
expressed himself as to make her aware that he intended her to
understand that he would not yield whatever the sufferings of the
girl might be. But Lady Cantrip knew the world well and was aware
that in such matters