"You need not count Jessy Caird among 'the other relatives,' Ian. My money is all going to Donald—every bawbee of it."
Dr. Macrae looked at her, and then continued: "My dear Marion, the case is now fully stated to you. You are your own judge. I am at your mercy"; and he stood up and regarded the poor girl with eyes from which his passionate soul radiated an influence that it was almost impossible to resist.
"O Father!" she cried, "what is it you wish?"
"That you should deal justly with me. If you have no love left for your father, at least give him justice."
"You mean that I must pay you the toll of two years' love service for my support and education?"
"Yes."
Then she turned to her lover and put her hands upon his shoulders. Her cheeks were flaming and her eyes brimming with tears. "Good-bye, Richard!" she cried. "Good-bye, dearest of all! I must pay this debt. My Father refuses to release me. I must free myself."
"This decision is what I expected from my daughter," said Dr. Macrae, and he rose and went to her side and took her hand.
"One moment, sir!" said Richard, with all the scorn imaginable; "and, Marion, my darling, remember in one year, seven months and eleven days I shall come for you. It is dreadful to leave you so long in the power of a man so cruel and so wickedly selfish, but——"
"Our interview is over, Lord Cramer, and I do not forget that abuse is the privilege of the defeated."