u not pity
me? I gave my promise only to save you from the dungeon, and painful as
the task will be, I will keep my word to your father."

"Which shall it be, father?" asked Dorothy. "You shall finish the task you
began. I shall not help you in your good work by making choice. You shall
choose my place of imprisonment. Where shall it be? Shall I go to my rooms
or to the dungeon?"

"Go to your rooms," answered Sir George, "and let me never see--" but Sir
George did not finish the sentence. He hurriedly left the hall, and
Dorothy cheerfully went to imprisonment in Entrance Tower.

CHAPTER VIII

MALCOLM No. 2

Sir George had done a bad day's work. He had hardened Dorothy's heart
against himself and had made it more tender toward John. Since her father
had treated her so cruelly, she felt she was at liberty to give her heart
to John without stint. So when once she was alone in her room the
flood-gates of her heart were opened, and she poured forth the ineffable
tenderness and the passionate longings with which she was filled. With
solitude came the memory of John's words and John's kisses. She recalled
every movement, every word, every tone, every sensation. She gave her soul
unbridled license to feast with joyous ecstasy upon the thrilling
memories. All thoughts of her father's cruelty were drowned in a sea of
bliss. She forgot him. In truth, she forgot everything but her love and
her lover. That evening, after she had assisted Madge to prepare for bed,
as was her custom, Dorothy stood before her mirror making her toilet for
the night. In the flood of her newly found ecstasy she soon forgot that
Madge was in the room.

Dorothy stood before her mirror with her face near to its polished
surface, that she might scrutinize every feature, and, if possible, verify
John's words.

"He called me 'my beauty' twice," she thought, "and 'my Aphrodite' once."
Then her thoughts grew into unconscious words, and she spoke aloud:--

"I wish he could see me now." And she blushed at the thought, as she
should have done. "He acted as if he meant all he said," she thought. "I
know he meant it. I trust him entirely. But if he should change? Holy
Mother, I believe I should die. But I do believe him. He would not lie,
even though he is not a Vernon."

With thoughts of the scene between herself and her father at the gate,
there came a low laugh, half of amusement, half of contentment, and the
laugh meant a great deal that was to