faults. Unfortunately, I knew my father too well.

"Then I talked to him about the duty he owed to our family name," she
resumed, "and I went so far as to remind him of what I had done to
shield him and it from disgrace, and he mocked at it--positively mocked
at it! He said there was no sort of parallel. It would be no dishonor to
our house to receive Kate into it, even if they were married at once.
What did it signify to the world that only three months had elapsed?
Besides, he did not mean to marry her for a month to come, as the house
would need beautifying for her--beautifying for her! Neither had he
spoken of it to you; but he had no doubt you would be willing to go on
as you have done."

"Never!" I said.

"I was sure not," continued Julia. "I told him I was convinced you would
leave Guernsey again, but he pooh-poohed that. I asked him how he was
to live without any practice, and he said his old patients might turn
him off for a while, but they would be glad to send for him again. I
never saw a man so obstinately bent upon his own ruin."

"Julia," I said, "I shall leave Guernsey before this marriage can come
off. I would rather break stones on the highway than stay to see that
woman in my mother's place. My mother disliked her from the first."

"I know it," she replied, with tears in her eyes, "and I thought it was
nothing but prejudice. It was my fault, bringing her to Guernsey. But I
could not bear the idea of her coming as mistress here. I said so
distinctly. 'Dr. Dobree,' I said, 'you must let me remind you that the
house is mine, though you have paid me no rent for years. If you ever
take Kate Daltrey into it, I will put my affairs into a notary's hands.
I will, upon my word, and Julia Dobree never broke her word yet.' That
brought him to his senses better than any thing. He turned very pale,
and sat down beside Kate, hardly knowing what to say. Then she began.
She said if I was cruel, she would be cruel too. Whatever grieved you,
Martin, would grieve me, and she would let her brother Richard Foster
know where Olivia was."

"Does she know where she is?" I asked, eagerly, in a tumult of surprise
and hope.

"Why, in Sark, of course," she replied.

"What! Did you never know that Olivia left Sark before my mother's
death?" I said, with a chill of disappointment. "Did I never tell you
she was gone, nobody knows where?"

"You have never spoken of her in my hearing, except once--you recollect
when, Martin?