had been very badly
treated by his son, whom he hated worse than any one else in the
world. On the Derby Day he had won a large sum of money, which had
been to him at the time a matter of intense delight,--for he was
in great want of money. But on this day he had discovered that his
son and heir had lost more than he had won, and an arrangement had
been suggested to him that his winnings should go to pay Percival's
losings. This was a mode of settling affairs to which the Earl would
not listen for a moment, had he possessed the power of putting a veto
upon it. But there had been a transaction lately between him and his
son with reference to the cutting off a certain entail under which
money was to be paid to Lord Percival. This money had not yet been
forthcoming, and therefore the Earl was constrained to assent. This
was very distasteful to the Earl, and he came home therefore in a bad
humour, and said a great many disagreeable things to his daughter.
"You know, papa, if I could do anything I would." This she said in
answer to a threat, which he had made often before and now repeated,
of getting rid altogether of the house in Belgrave Square. Whenever
he made this threat he did not scruple to tell her that the house had
to be kept up solely for her welfare. "I don't see why the deuce you
don't get married. You'll have to do it sooner or later." That was
not a pleasant speech for a daughter to hear from her father. "As to
that," she said, "it must come or not as chance will have it. If you
want me to sign anything I will sign it;"--for she had been asked
to sign papers, or in other words to surrender rights;--"but for
that other matter it must be left to myself." Then he had been very
disagreeable indeed.

They dined out together,--of course with all the luxury that wealth
can give. There was a well-appointed carriage to take them backwards
and forwards to the next square, such as an Earl should have. She
was splendidly dressed, as became an Earl's daughter, and he was
brilliant with some star which had been accorded to him by his
sovereign's grateful minister in return for staunch parliamentary
support. No one looking at them could have imagined that such a
father could have told such a daughter that she must marry herself
out of the way because as an unmarried girl she was a burden.

During the dinner she was very gay. To be gay was the habit,--we may
almost say the work,--of her life. It so chanced that she sat bet