had once denied and scorned him.
That her cause was an impersonal and an unselfish one made no difference.
He knew the strength of her character and her sympathies. It was sweet to
him to refuse her something she desired. She had never yet given him the
opportunity! In the twenty years since they had last faced each other, he
was perfectly conscious that he had lost mentally, morally, physically;
whereas she--his enemy--bore about with her, even in her changed beauty,
the signs of a life lived fruitfully--a life that had been worth while.
His bitter perception of it, his hidden consciousness that he had
probably but a short time, a couple of years at most, to live, only
increased his satisfaction in the "No"--the contemptuous and final "No!"
that he had opposed, and would oppose, to her impertinent interference
with his affairs.

Victoria sat regarding him silently, as he walked to the
mantelpiece, rearranged a few silver objects standing upon it, and
then turned--confronting her again.

"You have made Mr. Faversham your heir?" she asked him after a pause.

"I have. And I shall take good care that he does nothing with my property
when he inherits it so as to undo my wishes with regard to it."

"That is to say--you will not even allow him to make--himself--provision
for your wife and daughter?"

"Beyond what was indicated in the letter to your son? No! certainly not.
I shall take measures against anything of the sort."

Victoria rose.

"And he accepts your condition--your bequest to him, on these terms?"

Melrose smiled.

"Certainly. Why not?"

"I am sorry for Mr. Faversham!" said Victoria, in a different voice, the
colour sparkling on her cheek.

"Because you think there will be a public opinion against him--that he
will be boycotted in this precious county? Make yourself easy, Lady
Tatham. A fortune such as he will inherit provides an easy cure for such
wounds."

Victoria's self-control began to break down.

"I venture to think he will not find it so," she said, with quickened
breath. "In these days it is not so simple to defy the common
conscience--as it once was. I fear indeed that Mr. Faversham has already
lost the respect of decent men!"

"By becoming my agent?"

"Your tool--for actions--cruel, inhuman things--degrading to both you and
him."

She had failed. She knew it! And all that remained was to speak the truth
to him, to defy and denounce him.

Melrose surveyed her.

"The ejectment ord