"

"I am not a heartless scoundrel," said Fred Neville, jumping up from his
seat.

"Then what is it that you mean? You have thought, have you not, of the
duties of the high position to which you are called? You do not suppose
that wealth is to be given to you, and a great name, and all the
appanages and power of nobility, in order that you may eat more, and
drink more, and lie softer than others. It is because some think so, and
act upon such base thoughts, that the only hereditary peerage left in
the world is in danger of encountering the ill will of the people. Are
you willing to be known only as one of those who have disgraced their
order?"

"I do not mean to disgrace it."

"But you will disgrace it if you marry such a girl as that. If she were
fit to be your wife, would not the family of Lord Kilfenora have known
her?"

"I don't think much of their not knowing her, uncle."

"Who does know her? Who can say that she is even what she pretends to
be? Did you not promise me that you would make no such marriage?"

He was not strong to defend his Kate. Such defence would have been in
opposition to his own ideas, in antagonism with the scheme which he had
made for himself. He understood, almost as well as did his uncle, that
Kate O'Hara ought not to be made Countess of Scroope. He too thought
that were she to be presented to the world as the Countess of Scroope,
she would disgrace the title. And yet he would not be a villain! And yet
he would not give her up! He could only fall back upon his scheme. "Miss
O'Hara is as good as gold," he said; "but I acknowledge that she is not
fit to be mistress of this house."

"Fred," said the Earl, almost in a passion of affectionate solicitude,
"do not go back to Ireland. We will arrange about the regiment. No harm
shall be done to any one. My health will be your excuse, and the lawyers
shall arrange it all."

"I must go back," said Neville. Then the Earl fell back in his chair and
covered his face with his hands. "I must go back; but I will give you my
honour as a gentleman to do nothing that shall distress you."

"You will not marry her?"

"No."

"And, oh, Fred, as you value your own soul, do not injure a poor girl
so desolate as that. Tell her and tell her mother the honest truth. If
there be tears, will not that be better than sorrow, and disgrace, and
ruin?" Among evils there must always be a choice; and the Earl thought
that a broken promise was the lightest of thos