be what they have hitherto been. I
will no longer submit to dictation nor control at your hands. Our roads
in life lie in opposite directions; we need seldom to meet, never to
cross each other. If Lady Lackington accepts the same view of these
matters as myself, well; if not, it will not be difficult to suggest an
arrangement satisfactory to each of us."

"And so you think to come the noble Lord over me, do you?" said Grog,
with an irony perfectly savage in look and tone. "I always knew you
were a fool, but that you could carry your stupid folly that far I
never imagined. You want to tell me--if you had the pluck you would tell
me--that you are ashamed of having married _my_ daughter, and I tell
_you_ that out of your whole worthless, wretched, unmanly life, it is
the one sole redeeming action. That _she_ stooped to marry _you_ is
another matter,--she that, at this very moment, confers more honor upon
your rank than it can ever bestow upon _her!_ Ay! start if you will, but
don't sneer; for if you do, by the eternal Heaven above us, it will be
the last laugh you 'll ever indulge in!" A sudden movement of his hand
towards the breast of his coat gave such significance to the words that
Beecher sprang from his seat and approached the bell-rope. "Sit down
there,--there, in that chair," cried Grog, in the thickened accents of
passion. "I have n't done with you. If you call a servant into the room,
I' ll fling _you_ out of the window. If you imagined, when I burned your
forged acceptances, that I had n't another evidence against you stronger
than all, you mistook Kit Davis. What! did you think to measure
yourself against _me?_ Nature never meant you for that, my Lord
Viscount,--never!"

If Davis was carried away by the impetuosity of his savage temper in all
this, anger never disabled him from keenly watching Beecher and scanning
every line in his face. To his amazement, therefore, did he remark that
he no longer exhibited the same extent of fear he had hitherto done. No,
he was calmer and more collected than Grog had ever seen him in a moment
of trial.

"When your passion has blown over," said Beecher, quietly, "you will
perhaps tell me what it is you want or require of me."

"Want of you,--want of you!" reiterated Davis, more abashed by the
other's demeanor than he dared to confess, even to himself,--"what can
_I_ want of you? or, if I do want anything, it is that you will remember
who you are, and who am I. It is not t