Papa--"

"You must take my word for it when I tell you that I have positive
proof of what I am telling you."

"But, Papa--"

"Is not that enough?"

"No, Papa. I am heartily sorry that he should have been what you call
a bad young man. I wish young men weren't so bad;--that there were no
racecourses, and betting, and all that. But if he had been my brother
instead of my cousin--"

"Don't talk about your brother, Emily."

"Should we hate him because he has been unsteady? Should we not do
all that we could in the world to bring him back? I do not know that
we are to hate people because they do what they ought not to do."

"We hate liars."

"He is not a liar. I will not believe it."

"Why did he tell you that he was not at those races, when he was
there as surely as you are here? But, my dear, I will not argue about
all this with you. It is not right that I should do so. It is my duty
to inquire into these things, and yours to believe me and to obey
me." Then he paused, but his daughter made no reply to him. He looked
into her face, and saw there that mark about her eyes which he knew
he so often showed himself; which he so well remembered with his
father. "I suppose you do believe me, Emily, when I tell you that he
is worthless."

"He need not be worthless always."

"His conduct has been such that he is unfit to be trusted with
anything."

"He must be the head of our family some day, Papa."

"That is our misfortune, my dear. No one can feel it as I do. But I
need not add to it the much greater misfortune of sacrificing to him
my only child."

"If he was so bad, why did he come here?"

"That is true. I did not expect to be rebuked by you, Emily, but I am
open to that rebuke."

"Dear, dear Papa, indeed I did not mean to rebuke you. But I cannot
give him up."

"You must give him up."

"No, Papa. If I did, I should be false. I will not be false. You say
that he is false. I do not know that, but I will not be false. Let me
speak to you for one minute."

"It is of no use."

"But you will hear me, Papa. You always hear me when I speak to
you." She had left her chair now, and was standing close to him, not
leaning upon him as was her wont in their pleasantest moments of
fellowship, but ready to do so whenever she should find that his mood
would permit it. "I will never marry him without your leave."

"Thanks, Emily; I know how sacred is a promise from you."

"But mine to him is equally sacred. I sha