"Because—I am married already."
Sir Aymer's face grow crimson. He could scarcely speak, and it was in a strangled whisper that he said,—
"Married! Secretly! And trying to keep concealed from me. Guy! Tell me in one word; have you made a low marriage?"
"I have been married for nearly a year, and—"
"I don't care how long. Who is she?"
"It was for this reason that I wrote to you. I must settle somewhere, and my allowance is not enough now. I must add to my income in some way, and—"
"Answer my question, sir! Money I can give you, if that is all. You have disappointed me, you have defied me; but only tell me that you have married a lady, and I will try to forgive you."
Guy was silent.
Sir Aymer waited, staring gloomily at his son's agitated face.
"Father! If you cast me off, I shall be a beggar. She has only a few hundred pounds—I have nothing. She's a good girl, and a pretty creature. I was ill—a sudden attack of fever—and she nursed me through it; and when I recovered, I found that she had learned to love me, and—"