ng opposite to his son, "I wonder what you think of me?"

"Think of you, sir?" ejaculated Frank.

"Yes; what do you think of me, for having thus ruined you. I wonder
whether you hate me?"

Frank, jumping up from his chair, threw his arms round his father's
neck. "Hate you, sir? How can you speak so cruelly? You know well
that I love you. And, father, do not trouble yourself about the
estate for my sake. I do not care for it; I can be just as happy
without it. Let the girls have what is left, and I will make my own
way in the world, somehow. I will go to Australia; yes, sir, that
will be best. I and Mary will both go. Nobody will care about her
birth there. But, father, never say, never think, that I do not love
you!"

The squire was too much moved to speak at once, so he sat down again,
and covered his face with his hands. Frank went on pacing the room,
till, gradually, his first idea recovered possession of his mind, and
the remembrance of his father's grief faded away. "May I tell Mary,"
he said at last, "that you consent to our marriage? It will make her
so happy."

But the squire was not prepared to say this. He was pledged to his
wife to do all that he could to oppose it; and he himself thought,
that if anything could consummate the family ruin, it would be this
marriage.

"I cannot say that, Frank; I cannot say that. What would you both
live on? It would be madness."

"We would go to Australia," answered he, bitterly. "I have just said
so."

"Oh, no, my boy; you cannot do that. You must not throw the old place
up altogether. There is no other one but you, Frank; and we have
lived here now for so many, many years."

"But if we cannot live here any longer, father?"

"But for this scheme of yours, we might do so. I will give up
everything to you, the management of the estate, the park, all the
land we have in hand, if you will give up this fatal scheme. For,
Frank, it is fatal. You are only twenty-three; why should you be in
such a hurry to marry?"

"You married at twenty-one, sir."

Frank was again severe on his father, but unwittingly. "Yes, I did,"
said Mr Gresham; "and see what has come of it! Had I waited ten years
longer, how different would everything have been! No, Frank, I cannot
consent to such a marriage; nor will your mother."

"It is your consent I ask, sir; and I am asking for nothing but your
consent."

"It would be sheer madness; madness for you both. My own Frank, my
dear, dear b