"That poor chap," with an inclination of his head toward the lake, "seems awfully cut up about Miss Stillwater!" Lord Stafford watched his nephew closely. "Why don't you retire and leave him the field? You may as well, you know, first as last."
"I have no intention of doing it—first or last!"
"The devil you haven't!"
"Uncle Nelson, I have made up my mind to marry Miss Stillwater!"
"Good God! Your mother!"
"My mother will be satisfied with whatever is to result in my happiness. This is the only thing in my life I have ever intensely desired."
"Think it over—well over. You may change your mind."
"I have thought it over. You remember when I climbed Mt. Marsy with Haller. The night we spent on the summit—I never closed my eyes. In the morning I watched the sun rise over the forests, mountains and lakes. Such a young, rejoicing world! And I stood above it all, sleepless, miserable, old! The questions I had asked all night seemed vain and trivial. I was simply answered. 'Be happy!' said the new-born world, bathed in dew and light."
"I promised your mother to look after you," insisted Lord Stafford, weakly.
His nephew put up his hand in laughing remonstrance, then grew instantly grave. "Do you remember that log I threw in the Notch? How it was tossed and whirled onward, like a leaf, by the might of the falls? I am as helpless in the force that has now taken possession of me. I have ceased to reason. I am going—wherever the falls will send me." He drank deeply from the glass which stood at his elbow, Lord Stafford regarding him helplessly. They talked into the small hours of the morning.