He rose and took my hand in both his, the tears running down his cheeks.
"Anstruther," he continued, mastering his emotion with an effort, "I am going to ask a further sacrifice from you as a condition of my consent to your marriage with Dolores—a very necessary condition, or I would not make it.
"Anstruther, I ask you to keep eternal silence on what has occurred to you since you entered the door of the house in Monmouth Street, that dull evening in November. I ask you never to refer to it again from this moment, in any shape or form.
"Tell me, can you make this promise?"
I stood with my hand in his, my eyes fixed on his kind old face working with emotion.
"And this is the final condition you ask," I replied, "to my union with
Dolores? You are satisfied in every other way?"
"I am satisfied," he replied; "I ask no more."
"Then I give you my promise," I replied, gripping his hand hard; "the subject to me shall be dead. God help me to keep my word!"
* * * * *
My future father-in-law and I sat chatting an hour longer over the bright fire in the sitting-room while the gloaming of a February day was deepening without, and he had talked to me with the familiarity accorded to one already admitted to his family circle.