‘Oh, sir, don’t laugh at me! Remember that a felon’s daughter has no rights.’
‘Lizzie, you shall not use that term of your late father in my presence!’
‘It is what he called himself, sir,—what, doubtless, his people call him to this day, if ever they mention his name. Are my grandparents living, Mr Courtney?’
‘I believe so, my dear, and a very nice couple they were, though I have heard this trouble was an awful blow to their pride. Scotch pride too. There’s nothing like it. But Lady Ruthin loved her son Herbert dearly in the olden days. I wonder if she ever mourns for him now?’
‘Can time wear out a mother’s love?’ said Lizzie. ‘And my poor father was so loveable and affectionate. I cannot believe sometimes that he was capable of so base a sin as ingratitude.’
‘Don’t believe it, my dear! It is all over and past now. Think only of him as one of God’s regenerated children. And if he erred in that respect, his mantle has not fallen on his daughter, for you have repaid any kindnesses we may have shown you, twofold.’
‘I have tried to do so,’ replied Lizzie, in a faltering voice, as, with the packet of letters in her hand, she passed quickly from the office on her way home.
