Alice suddenly turned very pale. Her hands flew up pleadingly, and involuntarily she cried, in a voice of anguish:
“Oh, for the loving Saviour’s sake, do not require me to renounce Elsie!”
“If I did, would you do so, Alice?”
She was silent, with her head bowed upon her clasped hands.
He looked at her and smiled sardonically, saying:
“I knew it—another exception! How many would follow this, I wonder? But be easy, Alice. I do not require you to renounce your daughter. Far be that from me. Hold her as closely to your heart as you wish. Nothing but nervousness could have put that thought into your head. Have I not said that even I might be brought to forgive Elsie? Pshaw, dear Alice, I only wished to prove to you how really vain were all your promises.”
“No, they are not!” exclaimed Alice earnestly, energetically. “You have reconciled yourself to me when I least hoped and expected it, and I will do anything to prove how glad I am—anything except renounce Elsie or fail in my higher duty to Heaven. Oh, do not close your half-opened heart to me again! Try me!”
“Good! I will put your sincerity to one more test. And woe to both if that third test should prove you faithless.”
“It shall not—it shall not!” said Alice solemnly. “All our future confidence and peace depends on it, and it shall not fail, so help me Heaven. What is it?”
“You shall soon see, Alice,” replied General Garnet, rising and preparing to leave the room. “Where are they now?—I mean Dr. Hardcastle and his wife.”