hink, how gladly I should have welcomed you as a daughter
but for this terrible revelation. As it is, I cannot consent
to the engagement, and if it is carried out Oliver must
renounce the inheritance of his father's fortune. I do not
say this as any vulgar threat. It is simply that I cannot
allow my husband's wealth to be used in furthering what he
would never have permitted. He had--and so have I--the
strongest feeling as to the sacredness of the family and its
traditions. He held, as I do, that it ought to be founded in
mutual respect and honor, and that children should have round
about them the help that comes from the memory of unstained
and God-fearing ancestors. Do you not also feel this? Is it
not a great principle, to which personal happiness and
gratification may justly be sacrificed? And would not such a
sacrifice bring with it the highest happiness of all?

"Do not think that I am cruel or hard-hearted. I grieve for
you with all my soul, and I have prayed for you earnestly,
though, perhaps, you will consider this mere hypocrisy. But I
must first think of my son--and of my husband. Very possibly
you and Oliver may disregard what I say. But if so, I warn
you that Oliver is not indifferent to money, simply because
the full development of his career depends on it. He will
regret what he has done, and your mutual happiness will be
endangered. Moreover, he shrinks from all painful thoughts
and associations; he seems to have no power to bear them; yet
how can you protect him from them?

"I beg you to be counselled in time, to think of him rather
than yourself--if, indeed, you care for him. And should you
decide rightly, an old woman's love and gratitude will be
yours as long as she lives.

"Believe me, dear Miss Mallory, very sincerely yours,

"LUCY MARSHAM."

Diana dragged herself up-stairs and locked her door. At ten o'clock Mrs.
Colwood knocked, and heard a low voice asking to be left alone. She went
away wondering, in her astonishment and terror, what new blow had
fallen. No sound reached her during the night--except the bluster of a
north wind rushing in great gusts upon the hill-side and the woods.

CHAPTER XIV

Late on Monday afternoon Lady Niton paid a call in Eaton Square. She and
Lady Lucy were very old friends, and rarely passed a week