ord Maudlaine?"

"Indeed--indeed, I cannot!" sobbed Isa. "I--"

"Hush!" said Sir Murray, sternly, as, rising, he stood holding her hand.
"In plain terms, you must. Hearken to me, Isa. You know me only as a
cold, harsh, and bitter man; an unhappy life has made me what I am.
Proud I was always: but I might have been amiable--loving and loved--but
it was not to be. I have still some traces of better feeling left; and
I ask you--I implore you--not to force me to make revelations that shall
prove the impossibility of your wedding Brace Norton. I might look over
his father having been the bane of my life, and, did I see that it was
for your happiness, give way; but once again, I tell you that it is
impossible. Will you take my word?"

Isa looked up into his face with an aspect that was pitiable.

"Can you feel no pity for me?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said, gently; "I am having pity on you, though you cannot see
it, and are obliged blindly to take my word. And now I ask you, can you
not have pity on me?"

Isa sat as if stunned, while, throwing her hand from him, Sir Murray
strode for awhile up and down the room. Then, returning to her, he
again seated himself by her side.

"Look here, Isa," he said, "Lord Maudlaine wishes this affair to take
place at the end of this month. I may tell him that you consent, may I
not?"

"No!" she said, her spirit rising at the thought of being forced into
accepting a man she despised. "I will not consent."

"You are blind, Isa--blind!" he said, sadly; and then a groan seemed to
tear itself from his breast, as he bent over her, speaking in low,
hoarse tones.

"I would have spared you," he said; "for whatever you might have felt
for this young man, Isa, you had the one good excuse, that you had
obeyed me in accepting Lord Maudlaine. Time will not allow that the
wedding should longer be deferred. It is his wish that it should take
place at once--and mine; for my life is a burden to me here. I lead the
life of one haunted by the past; and it was only when, moved by some
strange impulse that I could not counteract, I returned, to find,
what?--misery, and disappointment, and scenes that remind me of what
should have been my happier days. But, once more, do you force me to
this avowal? I ask you again to spare yourself and me, taking it for
granted that what I tell you is right. May I refrain, and then tell
Lord Maudlaine to come to you?"

"I cannot--indeed I cannot!" im