ontempt. The
spell of the sweet moonlight was broken--the Darrell spirit was
aroused--the fiery Darrell pride was all ablaze.

He felt angry enough to leave her at that moment and never look upon her
again; but his position was so terrible, and he had so much at stake. He
humbled himself again and again--he entreated her in such wild,
passionate tones as must have touched one less proud.

"I am a desperate man, Pauline," he cried, at last; "and I pray you, for
Heaven's sake, do not drive me to despair."

But no words of his had power to move her; there was nothing but scorn
in the beautiful face, nothing but scorn in the willful, passionate
heart.

"Sir Oswald should have known better than to use threats to a Darrell!"
she said, with a flash of her dark eyes; and not the least impression
could Aubrey Langton make upon her.

He was silent at last in sheer despair. It was all over; he had no more
hope. Life had never held such a brilliant chance for any man, and now
it was utterly lost. Instead of wealth, luxury, happiness, there was
nothing before him but disgrace. He could almost have cursed her as she
stood there in the moonlight before him. A deep groan, one of utter,
uncontrollable anguish escaped his lips. She went nearer to him and
started back in wonder at the white, settled despair on his face.

"Captain Langton," she said, quietly, "I am sorry--I am sorry--I am
indeed sorry--that you feel this so keenly. Let me comfort you."

He appealed to her again more passionately than ever, but she
interrupted him.

"You mistake me," she said; "I am grieved to see you suffer, but I have
no thought of altering my mind. Let me tell you, once and for all, I
would rather die than marry you, because I have neither liking nor
respect for you; but your sorrow I cannot but feel for."

"You have ruined me," he said, bitterly, "and the curse of a
broken-hearted man will rest upon you!"

"I do not think the Darrells are much frightened at curses," she
retorted; and then, in all the magnificence of her shining gems and
golden-hued dress, she swept from the spot.

Yes, he was ruined, desperate. Half an hour since, entering that
conservatory, he had wondered whether he should leave it a happy,
prosperous man. He knew now that there was nothing but blank, awful
despair, ruin and shame, before him. He had lost her, too, and love and
hate fought fiercely in his heart. He buried his face in his hands and
sobbed aloud.

A ruin