"Oh! scandal! disgrace! they will apply to the Holy Father—the orders would then come direct from Rome—I could not disobey under pain of excommunication—"
"Such tyranny!"
"The Kestyons have been Catholics for five hundred years," said the young man simply, whilst a touch of dignity—the first since he began to relate his miserable tale—now crept into his attitude. "We do not call the dictates of the Holy Father in question, nor do we name them tyranny. They are irrevocable in matters such as these—"
"Surely—a sum of money—" she hazarded.
"The Legros have more of that commodity than I have. But it is not a question of money. Believe me, fair Mistress," he said in tones which once more revealed the sorrow of his heart, "I have thought on the matter in all its bearings—I have even broached the subject to the Duke of York," he added after an imperceptible moment of hesitation.
"Ah? and what said His Highness?" asked Mistress Julia with that quick inward catching of her breath which the mentioning of exalted personages was ever wont to call forth in her.
"Oh! His Highness only spoke of the sanctity of the marriage tie—"
"'Twas not likely he would talk otherwise. 'Tis said that his bigotry grows daily upon him—and that he only awaits a favourable moment to embrace openly the Catholic Faith—"
"His Majesty was of the same opinion, too."
"Ah? You spoke to His Majesty?"