"No. The tragedy nearly finished here may be repeated, papa, and all of
us be homeless if you can go in debt again. I shall not do that--not
even for my husband, and here will stand Teackle Hall to protect you
all from the cold if bad times ever come again."

"You have paid a greater price for it, my child, than it is worth, and
you are entitled to it."

"Besides, dear father, if Mr. Milburn needs any reminder of his promise
to repay mamma's dowry, this will give it. He intended his gift to be my
marriage dower, and were I to convey it to you I should first ask his
consent; not in law, perhaps, but in delicacy."

"Oh, yes," the Judge said carelessly, "I am glad you have such good
reasons. Yet, my beautiful, my last child,--pride of my race! I hate to
see you so ready for this business--this calculation and foresight. It
is not like the Custises. I fear this man, Milburn, in a single day has
thrown his net around your nature, and annexed you to his sordid
existence. At this moment the redeeming thing about you is that you
cannot love him."

"Dear father, thoughts like that beset me, too--the pride of
aristocracy, the remembrance of what has been; but I want to be honest
and not to cheat my heart or any person. We have fallen from our height;
he has raised himself from his condition; and there is no deception in
my conduct. He knows I do not love him. Instead of standing upon an
obdurate heart, I pray God to melt my nature and mould it to his
affection!"

Regarding her a moment with increasing interest, Judge Custis came
forward and kissed her forehead.

"Amen, then!" he said. "May you love your husband! I will do all I can
to love him, too."

"That is spoken like a true man," Vesta said. "And now, father,
good-night! Be ready here for Mr. Milburn's arrival. Ring for a decanter
and some cake. It will not hurt you, after your fast, to drink a glass
of sherry with the bridegroom."

He kissed her and felt her trembling in his arms. As she started to go,
she returned and clung to him again. Her face was pale with fear.

"Oh, dreadful God!" he muttered, "to visit my many sins upon this
spotless angel! Where shall I fly?"

A step was upon the porch, and Vesta flashed up the stairway.

Judge Custis went to his door apprehensive and in tears. A strange man
stood there, with his eye bruised and blood dripping down to his coarse,
rope-like beard. He was in liquor, but so pale that it was apparent by
the starlight.