man to show himself, though, we owe
it to truth to say, that a lively curiosity _now_ mingled with his other
sensations. "How can I have the keeping of dear mother's fortunes and
yours?"

"_Dear_ mother, truly!--_Dear_ enough has she proved to me; but I intend
the daughter shall pay for it. Hark you, Mildred; I'll have no more of
this trifling--but I ask you in a father's name, if any man has offered
you his hand? Speak plainly, and conceal nothing--I _will_ be answered."

"I wish to conceal nothing, father, that ought to be told; but when a
young woman declines the honour that another does her in this way,
_ought_ she to reveal the secret, even to her father?"

"She _ought_; and, in your case, she _shall_. No more hesitation; name
_one_ of the offers you have had."

Mildred, after a brief pause, in a low, tremulous voice, pronounced the
name of "Mr. Rotherham."

"I suspected as much," growled Dutton; "there was a time when even _he_
might have answered, but we can do better than that now. Still he may be
kept as a reserve; the thousand pounds Mr. Thomas says shall be paid,
and that and the living will make a comfortable port after a stormy
life. Well, who next, Mildred? Has Mr. Thomas Wychecombe ever come to
the point?"

"He has asked me to become his wife, within the last twenty-four hours;
if that is what you mean."

"No affectations, Milly; I can't bear them. You know well enough what I
mean. What was your answer?"

"I do not love him in the least, father, and, of course, I told him I
could not marry him."

"That don't follow _of course_, by any means, girl! The marrying is done
by the priest, and the love is a very different thing. I hope you
consider Mrs. Dutton as my wife?"

"What a question!" murmured Mildred.

"Well, and do you suppose she _loves_ me; _can_ love me, now I am a
disgraced, impoverished man?"

"Father!"

"Come--come--enough of this. Mr. Thomas Wychecombe may not be
legitimate--I rather think he is not, by the proofs Sir Reginald has
produced within the last day or two; and I understand his own mother is
dissatisfied with him, and _that_ will knock his claim flat aback.
Notwithstanding, Mildred, Tom Wychecombe has a good six hundred a year
already, and Sir Reginald himself admits that he must take all the
personal property the late baronet could leave."

"You forget, father," said Mildred, conscious of the inefficacy of any
other appeal, "that Mr. Thomas has promised to pay the