'You know, Trevor, how I loved poor mamma, and how she loved me?'
'I do, my own Clare.'
'Well, on her death-bed she made me give her two solemn promises.'
'And these were?'
'First, to be, so far as I could, a mother to Ida and Violet, and—and——'
'The second? Oh, Clare, keep me not in suspense!'
'Never to marry without the fullest consent of papa; and as he acted before, so will he act again, out of mere petulance and pride, perhaps, as he will never acknowledge himself in error. Oh, Trevor!' she added, pathetically, 'I would that we had never met, and almost wish that after being so cruelly parted we had never met more.'
Trevor Chute was silent for a time, but a sense of irritation against her father gave him courage to hope.
'Clare, Sir Carnaby is a somewhat gay man,' said he, 'and he has hinted to Jerry Vane, to Colonel Rakes, and others, the chance——'
'Of what?' asked Clare, as her lips became pale.