lied Ronald, "hoping you would retract hard, cruel
words that you never meant. I could not help it, father; she has no
one but me; they would have forced her to marry some one she did not
like."

"Enough," interrupted Lord Earle. "Tell me when and where. Let me
understand whether the deed is irrevocable or not."

Calmly, but with trembling lips, Ronald gave him every particular.

"Yes, the marriage is legal enough," said the master of Earlescourt.
"You had to choose between duty, honor, home, position--and Dora
Thorne. You preferred Dora; you must leave the rest."

"Father, you will forgive me," cried Ronald. "I am your only son."

"Yes," said Lord Earle, drearily, "you are my only son. Heaven grant
no other child may pierce his father's heart as you have done mine!
Years ago, Ronald, my life was blighted--my hopes, wishes, ambitions,
and plans all melted; they lived again in you. I longed with wicked
impatience for the time when you should carry out my dreams, and add
fresh luster to a grand old name. I have lived in your life; and now,
for the sake of a simple, pretty, foolish girl, you have forsaken
me--you have deliberately trampled upon every hope that I had."

"Let me atone for it," cried Ronald. "I never thought of these things."

"You can not atone," said Lord Earle, gravely. "I can never trust you
again. From this time forth I have no son. My heir you must be when
the life you have darkened ends. My son is dead to me."

There was no anger in the stern, grave face turned toward the unhappy
young man.

"I never broke my word," he continued, "and never shall. You have
chosen your own path; take it. You preferred this Dora to me; go to
her. I told you if you persisted in your folly, I would never look
upon your face again, and I never will."

"Oh, Rupert!" cried Lady Earle; "be merciful. He is my only child. I
shall die if you send him from me."

"He preferred this Dora to you or to me," said Lord Earle. "I am sorry
for you, Helena--Heaven knows it wrings my heart--but I shall not break
my word! I will not reproach you," he continued, turning to his son,
"it would be a waste of time and words; you knew the alternative, and
are doubtless prepared for it."

"I must bear it, father; the deed was my own," said Ronald.

"We will end this scene," said Lord Earle, turning from his unhappy
wife, who was weeping passionately. "Look at your mother, Ronald; kiss
her for the last time and go