he cried. "My wife is a wonder of beauty; she is dainty and
lovely as a princess. Only see her, you would change your opinion at
once."

"I hope never to do that. As for seeing her, I shall never so far lose
my own self-respect as to allow such a person to speak to me."

Lord Chandos shook his head with a rueful smile.

"If you had ever seen Leone, mother, you would laugh at the idea of
calling her a person," he said.

Lady Lanswell moved her hand with a gesture of superb pride.

"Nay, do not continue the subject. If the girl was not actually a
dairy-maid, in all probability she was not far removed from it. I have
no wish to discuss the question. You have stained the hitherto stainless
name of your family by the wretched mistake you call a marriage."

"I do not _call_ it a marriage; it _is_ one," he said.

And then my lady's face grew even paler.

"It is not one. I thank Heaven that the law of the land is just and
good; that it very properly refuses to recognize the so-called marriage
of a hot-headed boy. You have ignored our letters on the subject, you
have laughed at all threats, treated with disdain all advice; now you
will find your level. The judicial decree has been pronounced; the
marriage you have talked of with such bravado is no marriage; the woman
you have insulted me by mentioning is not your wife."

She neither trembled nor faltered when he turned to her with a white,
set face.

"Pardon me; I must speak plainly; that which you have said is a lie!"

"You forget yourself, Lord Chandos," she said, with cold dignity.

"You force me to use words I do not like, mother," he cried "Why do you
irritate me--why say those things?"

"They are perfectly true; here on the table lie the papers relative to
the suit; the judicial opinion has been pronounced; our petition is
granted, and your marriage, as you choose to call it, is set aside, is
pronounced illegal, null, void!"

The fierce, white anger of his face startled her.

"It shall not be!" he cried.

"It must be," she repeated; "you cannot prevent it. You must have been
singularly devoid of penetration and knowledge not to know from the
first that it must be decided against you; that no minor can marry
without the consent of his parents. A wise law it is, too; there would
soon be an end of the aristocracy of England if every hot-headed,
foolish boy of nineteen could marry without the consent of his parents
or guardian."

If his antagonist had been