" I said (perhaps not unwilling to turn the
conversation from the real point at issue). "You know how fondly and
dutifully your young people regard their father. If they side against
you in this instance, it must be because justice is against you. A man
like you is not going to set up sic volo sic jubeo as the sole law in
his family!"

"Psha, George!" cries the General. "For though we are parted, God forbid
I should desire that we should cease to love each other. I had your
promise that you would not seek to see her."

"Nor did I go to her, sir," I said, turning red, no doubt; for though
this was truth, I own it was untrue.

"You mean she was brought to you?" says Theo's father, in great
agitation. "Is it behind Hester's petticoat that you will shelter
yourself? What a fine defence for a gentleman!"

"Well, I won't screen myself behind the poor child," I replied.
"To speak as I did was to make an attempt at evasion, and I am
ill-accustomed to dissemble. I did not infringe the letter of my
agreement, but I acted against the spirit of it. From this moment I
annul it altogether."

"You break your word given to me!" cries Mr. Lambert.

"I recall a hasty promise made on a sudden at a moment of extreme
excitement and perturbation. No man can be for ever bound by words
uttered at such a time; and, what is more, no man of honour or humanity,
Mr. Lambert, would try to bind him."

"Dishonour to me! sir," exclaims the General.

"Yes, if the phrase is to be shuttlecocked between us!" I answered,
hotly. "There can be no question about love, or mutual regard,
or difference of age, when that word is used: and were you my own
father--and I love you better than a father, Uncle Lambert,--I would not
bear it! What have I done? I have seen the woman whom I consider my wife
before God and man, and if she calls me I will see her again. If she
comes to me, here is my home for her, and the half of the little I have.
'Tis you, who have no right, having made me the gift, to resume it.
Because my mother taunts you unjustly, are you to visit Mrs. Esmond's
wrong upon this tender, innocent creature? You profess to love your
daughter, and you can't bear a little wounded pride for her sake. Better
she should perish away in misery, than an old woman in Virginia should
say that Mr. Lambert had schemed to marry one of his daughters. Say
that to satisfy what you call honour and I call selfishness, we part,
we break our hearts well nigh, we rally