“No, my lord; instead, I came to tell you that I have only gotten deeper into it,” was the grave yet quiet reply.
“What do you mean, sir?” and Lord Dunforth got quite red in the face at this answer.
“I mean, my lord, that I meant just what I said several days ago. I told you that the happiness of two lives was at stake, and that I should marry the lady I love. Sir, I found that she was being shamefully abused and insulted in her situation, and I made her my wife yesterday.”
“And you dare come hither and tell me of it!” thundered the angry lord, starting to his feet.
“I could not endure to be at variance with you, sir, and I know you would honor me for the course I have taken if you would but consider the circumstances.”
“Never!” he interrupted, white with passion; “you have braved my displeasure, and now—begone! That a Dunforth should have stolen forth like that to marry a beggar!” and he groaned aloud.
“But, grandfather, listen——”
“I will not, I tell you, and I command you to begone; you are of age, and can henceforth manage your own concerns; but not one shilling of my property shall revert to you more than I can help, and I would keep the title and estate from you if I could. Go to your beggar-bride, and be happy, if you can. You have ruined my life. Oh, God! I thought I had suffered enough at the beginning without this last blow to crush me,” and he turned away from him, with a gesture of despair.
The young man’s heart bled for him, and he longed to comfort him, but he saw that his presence only excited him, and he withdrew, sad indeed, but without a single regret for the step which he had taken. He knew he had done right.
He was puzzled to know what his lordship had meant by saying he thought he had suffered enough in the beginning. He had never heard the story of his early disappointment, so he could not know to what he referred.