"There was no need. I wished to forget all that lot and all that time of poverty and struggle. But your mother must have--"
"She never did," interrupted the girl, quickly. "Until you mentioned the name just now, I never knew that I had an aunt. If you think so much of her, why not seek her out and marry her? The Deceased Wife's Sister Bill is law now, and you can make her the second Lady Branwin."
Sir Joseph winced at the scorn in the young voice. "No!" said he. "I have had enough of the Arkwright family. I married one sister; I don't intend to marry the other, let alone the fact that I don't know where she is. She may be married--she may be dead. I don't care. For me, Flora is as dead as Dora, and when I marry again--" He hesitated.
Audrey clasped her hands together tightly, and her face was whiter than pearls. "I spoke in joke," she said, in a low voice. "Surely, papa, you will not marry again?"
"Why should I not?" cried Branwin, irritably. "I am not so very old. I want someone to sit at the head of my table and to receive my guests."
"I can do that, papa."
"You!" said the millionaire, contemptuously. "Oh, yes, so long as it suits your own purpose. But when you feel inclined you will marry that young fool."
"Ralph is not a fool, papa." Audrey drew herself up. "Everyone says that he is extremely clever, and has a great future before him."
"Well, it couldn't very well be behind him," said Sir Joseph, sneeringly. "It's all rubbish, Audrey; you must marry a title."
"I shall marry Ralph, and no one else," said Audrey, fiercely.