When I think of your
associating with that rascal my blood boils. If the worst comes to the
worst, I must tell Sir George what I know myself. It is with the
greatest reluctance I entered Copley's employment; indeed, I only did
so because there are certain things I want to find out and this seemed
to provide a favourable opportunity. Otherwise, I would rather get my
living by selling race-cards and sleep under a furze bush. But do you
mean to say your father really insists on this?"

A rush of tears filled May's eyes.

"That is what it comes to," she rejoined. "It is only the last two days
that I have noticed such a change in my father. Harry, do you think it
is as bad as he says it is? He tells me that unless I consent to marry
Mr. Copley we shall be ruined and be turned out of the house without so
much as a penny. It seems incredible. I can't understand a man with an
atom of self-respect who would compel a girl to marry him against her
will. It isn't as if I were rich, or intellectual, or beautiful."

Harry thought he could understand. Indeed, any man could understand who
looked down into the pretty, pleading, anxious face that was turned up
towards Fielden.

"There is no accounting for people like Copley," he said. "He is the
kind of man that has not an atom of consideration for anybody but
himself. He has no heart or conscience, and the more unattainable a
thing is the more he longs for it. He cannot win you; therefore, you are
the one thing in the world that he passionately desires. God help the
woman, however fascinating and beautiful, who becomes Copley's wife! It
would mean years of brutality and neglect and self-contempt. You
mustn't, May. I understand the duty you owe to your father, but no man
has a right to exact such a sacrifice as that. Don't you think I had
better see Sir George and give him a hint of the sort of man Copley is?"

May shook her head resolutely.

"I am afraid that would do more harm than good," she said. "I must fight
my battle alone, Harry, and if you interfered my father might forbid you
Haredale Park. He has already hinted that, if you had not come home
again, I should have been willing to become Mrs. Raymond Copley, and if
I were not allowed to see you I don't know what I should do. There is
nobody else I could confide in. But I will let you know how things go
on. We had better go back. I feel better for this confession."

But it seemed a hopeless business, and Fielden's face was