young man, too considerate
to say the engagement was hers, not his. "You knew I was bound to Anne,
Lady Kirton."

"Bound to a fiddlestick!" said the dowager. "Excuse my plainness,
Hartledon. When you engaged yourself to the young woman you were poor and
a nobody, and the step was perhaps excusable. Lord Hartledon is not bound
by the promises of Val Elster. All the young women in the kingdom, who
have parsons for fathers, could not oblige him to be so."

"I am bound to her in honour; and"--in love he was going to say, but let
the words die away unspoken.

"Hartledon, you are bound in honour to my daughter; you have sought her
affections, and gained them. Ah, Percival, don't you know that it is you
she has loved all along? In the days when I was worrying her about your
brother, she cared only for you. You cannot be so infamous as to desert
her."

"I wish to Heaven she had never seen me!" cried the unfortunate man,
beginning to wonder whether he could break through these trammels. "I'd
sacrifice myself willingly, if that would put things straight."

"You cannot sacrifice Maude. Look at her!" and the crafty old dowager
flourished her hand towards the fireplace, where Maude stood in all her
beauty. "A daughter of the house of Kirton cannot be taken up and cast
aside at will. What would the world say of her?"

"The world need never know."

"Not know!" shrieked the dowager; "not know! Why, her trousseau is
ordered, and some of the things have arrived. Good Heavens, Hartledon,
you dare not trifle with Maude in this way. You could never show your
face amongst men again."

"But neither dare I trifle with Anne Ashton," said Lord Hartledon,
completely broken down by the gratuitous information. He saw that the
situation was worse than even he had bargained for, and all his
irresolution began to return upon him. "If I knew what was right
to be done, I'm sure I'd do it."

"Right, did you say? Right? There cannot be a question about that. Which
is the more fitting to grace your coronet: Maude, or a country parson's
daughter?"

"I'm sure if this goes on I shall shoot myself," cried Val. "Taken to
task at the Rectory, taken to task here--shooting would be bliss to it."

"No doubt," returned the dowager. "It can't be a very pleasant position
for you. Any one but you would get out of it, and set the matter at
rest."

"I should like to know how."

"So long as you are a single man they naturally remain on the high ropes
at