"Who told you this, Dora?"
"Mr. Carver, the lawyer. For some reason Mr. Edermont lied to me, and confirmed his lie by paying me certain moneys which he said came from my inherited income. I hear now that I am a pauper. But for his bequest of two hundred a year and the freehold of the Red House, I should be a beggar."
"I cannot understand his reason for deceiving you," said Allen, drawing a long breath; "but at all events, he has made some reparation by leaving you enough to live on. You will always have a home at the Red House."
"You do not know the conditions of the will," was Dora's reply. "I have to live at the Red House; I have to permit Mr. Joad to carry on his former life, which means that I must see him daily, and I hate the man," added Dora fervently; "I loathe him; and now that Mr. Edermont is dead, I do not know to what length his audacity may carry him."
"What do you mean?" demanded Allen, frowning.
"I mean that Joad admires me."
"Admires you?" The young man stepped forward and clenched his fists. "Impossible that he should dare!"
"Oh, trust a woman's instinct in such matters, Allen! Yes, Mr. Joad admires me, and I believe he will soon put his admiration into words."
"If he does, I'll thrash him within an inch of his life!"
"As my affianced husband you no doubt have the right," replied Dora steadily; "but have you the will? You say you love me, yet----"