ion. "I am
going to stick to her, as you did to my mother."--that was what he had
said. If this were true, it was all over with Dick's chances with the
pretty little heiress; he would never look at her or her thirty
thousand pounds; "but all the same he, Richard Mayne, would never
consent to his son marrying a dressmaker. If she had only not
disgraced herself, if she had not brought this humiliation on them, he
might have been brought to listen to their pleading in good time and
at his own pleasure; but now, never!--never!" he muttered, and set his
teeth hard.

"Dick," he said, suddenly, for there had been utter silence for a
space.

"Yes, father."

"You have upset me very much, and made me very unhappy; but I wish you
to say nothing to your mother, and we will talk about this again.
Promise me one thing,--that you will go back to Oxford at least until
Christmas."

"What is the good of that, sir?" asked his son, dubiously.

"What is the good of anything? for you have taken every bit of
pleasure out of my life; but at least you can do as much as this for
me."

"Oh, yes, father, if you wish it," returned Dick, more cheerfully;
"but all the same I have fixed upon a City life."

"We will talk of that again," replied his father; "and, Dick, we go
home to-morrow, and, unless you promise me not to come down to
Hadleigh between this and Christmas, I shall be obliged to speak to
Mrs. Challoner."

"Oh, there is no need for that," returned Dick, sulkily.

"You give me your word?"

"Oh, yes," pushing aside his chair with a kick. "It would be no use
coming down to Hadleigh, for Nan would not speak to me. I know her too
well for that. She has got such a conscience, you know. I shall write
to her, but I do not know if she will answer my letters; but it does
not matter: we shall both be true as steel. If you don't want me any
more, I think I will have a cigar on the beach, for this room is
confoundedly hot." And, without waiting for permission, Dick strode
off, still sulky and fully aware that his father meant to follow him,
for fear of his footsteps straying again down the Braidwood Road.

CHAPTER XXXII.

"DICK IS TO BE OUR REAL BROTHER."

Never was a father more devoted to his son's company than Mr. Mayne
was that day. Dick's cigar was hardly alight before his father had
joined him. When Dick grew weary of throwing stones aimlessly at
imaginary objects, and voted the beach slow, Mr. Mayne proposed a walk
w