," echoed Dorothy's lover, scornfully. "As if he were
aught the better for that."

"A knight is a knight," replied the lady stiffly; "and he is the son
of an earl."

"And I, by the favour of fortune, am the nephew of an earl; and,
moreover, Dorothy and I have plighted our troth together."

"Then you were over bold."

"I might accept your decision for myself, Lady Vernon," he said;
"indeed, I had done so ere now, but Dorothy's happiness is at stake as
well as mine."

"You accept it perforce, then?"

"Nay, I will abide by Dorothy's decision alone. She shall have the
ruling of it, and I know what she will say."

"I must be plain with you, Master Manners," said Lady Maude, with
considerable asperity. "It can never, no, never be as you desire. We
have other designs for Dorothy than that she should marry a soldier of
fortune. Her portion," she continued, curling her lips in scorn, "is a
half of the whole estate of Haddon, which, you must admit, is no small
dowry; and what have you to set against that? Your lands would not
maintain yourself alone," and, having delivered herself thus, she cast
a triumphant glance upon the young man who stood before her.

"I may win renown," he quickly replied.

"You possibly might," she replied, with another contemptuous curl of
her lip, "but that is a shadow, a mere myth. Besides, you can put no
value on fame; you cannot even live upon it."

"I have a true and loving heart, and a strong arm."

"Tut, man," she laughed; "so has every beggar. Prithee, now, as a
matter of business, what have you to offer? Nothing."

"What! Surely you do not want to barter her away?" cried Manners. "Why
talk of business?"

"Certainly not," she replied; "but it is our duty to make as good an
alliance for her as we can. You ought to perceive that this is to her
advantage, and if you care for her welfare as much as you would have
us believe, you would help us to secure it for her, instead of placing
her in a position which can only breed discontent and mischief," and
without giving Manners time to reply she swept proudly out of the room
and left him alone with his sorrow.

CHAPTER XX.

THE TROTHPLIGHT.

Yet even now it is good to think,
While my few poor varlets grumble and drink,
In my desolate hall where the fires sink;
Of _Dorothy_ sitting glorious there,
In glory of gold and glory of hair,
And glory of glorious face most fair;
Likewise to-night I make good cheer,
Beca