ords.

'I am grieved enough to say so,' repeated Louis; 'but, as he puts it, I
do not see how Mary can refuse to obey him.'

'I declare, Fitzjocelyn,' exclaimed his father, with some anger, 'any
one who takes the trouble, may talk you into anything imaginable!'

'Not into believing her wrong.'

'I did not think you so weak!' continued his father. 'It is the very
case where a woman's exaggerated notions of right may be wrought on to
do her infinite harm! They become quite ridiculous without some one to
show that such things may be carried too far! I must say, I did expect
strength of mind and common sense for your own interest. I esteem it a
mere matter of duty to put an end to such nonsense.'

'My dear father,' said Louis, 'it was Mary and her mother who first
taught me my own obligations. I should never dare to interfere with
any one's filial duty--above all, where my own happiness is so deeply
concerned.'

'Yours! I am not talking of yours. What is to become of Mary with
such a man as that? and this Spanish woman, who, if she does not
deserve all that has been said of her, no doubt soon will?--no
education, no principles, breaking out of her convent! And you let
yourself be drawn into calling it Mary's duty to run into such company
as that! You are not fit to protect her.'

'From all I have heard of Mr. Ponsonby, I am convinced he has too much
regard for his daughter to summon her into any improper society. I do
not hear that he has been to blame as a father. I wish I could see it
as you do; but not only do I know that Mary could not have an instant's
peace under the sense of his displeasure, but it seems to me that this
is one of the express commands which could not be disobeyed without
setting aside the law of Heaven. If I gave my voice against it, I
should fear to bring on us a curse, and not a blessing.'

'Fitzjocelyn, I always knew how it would be if you took to being one of
those very good people. Nothing is so weak, and yet so unmanageable.
Any rational being would look on it as a duty to rescue her from such a
man as that; but that is too ordinary a virtue for you. You must go
higher.'

Louis made no answer. Never had his father pained him so much, and he
could ill brook additional suffering.

'However,' said the Earl, recovering, 'I shall see her. I shall put
the matter in a just light. She is a sensible girl, and will
understand me when she has recovered the shock. On one head I s