your love is worthy of you. Do
not tell me his name, for I do not wish to practise greater deception
toward your father than I must. But you may tell me of his station in
life, and of his person, that I may know he is not unworthy of you."

"His station in life," answered Dorothy, "is far better than mine. In
person he is handsome beyond any woman's wildest dream of manly beauty. In
character he is noble, generous, and good. He is far beyond my deserts,
Aunt Dorothy."

"Then why does he not seek your hand from your father?" asked the aunt.

"That I may not tell you, Aunt Dorothy," returned the girl, "unless you
would have me tell you his name, and that I dare not do. Although he is
vastly my superior in station, in blood, and in character, still my father
would kill me before he would permit me to marry this man of my choice;
and I, dear aunt, fear I shall die if I have him not."

Light slowly dawned upon Aunt Dorothy's mind, and she exclaimed in a
terrified whisper:--

"My God, child, is it he?"

"Yes," responded the girl, "yes, it is he."

"Do not speak his name, Dorothy," the old lady said. "Do not speak his
name. So long as you do not tell me, I cannot know with certainty who he
is." After a pause Aunt Dorothy continued, "Perhaps, child, it was his
father whom I loved and was compelled to give up."

"May the blessed Virgin pity us, sweet aunt," cried Dorothy, caressingly.

"And help us," returned Lady Crawford. "I, too, shall help you," she
continued. "It will be through no fault of mine if your life is wasted as
mine has been."

Dorothy kissed her aunt and retired.

Next morning when Dorothy arose a song came from her heart as it comes
from the skylark when it sees the sun at dawn--because it cannot help
singing. It awakened Aunt Dorothy, and she began to live her life anew, in
brightness, as she steeped her soul in the youth and joyousness of Dorothy
Vernon's song.

I have spoken before in this chronicle of Will Dawson. He was a Conformer.
Possibly it was by reason of his religious faith that he did not share the
general enmity that existed in Haddon Hall against the house of Rutland.
He did not, at the time of which I speak, know Sir John Manners, and he
did not suspect that the heir to Rutland was the man who had of late been
causing so much trouble to the house of Vernon. At least, if he did
suspect it, no one knew of his suspicions.

Sir George made a great effort to learn who the mysterious int