“I not only think so, but all the world will be obliged to acknowledge it very soon, as I have already taken measures to have John Loker’s confession made public.”
“What the world may think does not concern me at all; you will please consider my answer as final and unalterable;” and he waived his hand as if to dismiss the subject entirely.
Again the hot blood rushed to Earle’s very forehead, and it was all he could do not to let his temper fly.
“Will you please to give me some reason for what seems to me an unreasonable refusal?” he asked, quietly; then, after an instant’s thought, he added. “I have lately fallen heir to quite a handsome property, and can place Miss Dalton in a position befitting her worth.”
“I regret, for your sake, that I am unable to confer the favor requested upon one so noble and heir to such brilliant prospects; but even were it possible, allow me to ask what name you could bestow upon Miss Dalton?” and the look accompanying this question was so cunning and full of malice that for a moment Earle was startled.
“The woman I wed will never have cause to blush for the name she bears, sir,” he replied, with an indignant flush, and wondering if it was possible that Mr. Dalton could know aught concerning his previous history.
“Ah, indeed!” was the sarcastic reply. “I trust—I hope truly that you may find one worthy to bear it. Miss Dalton cannot. I decline that honor for her.”
“Miss Dalton is of age, I believe, sir,” Earle said, very quietly, but the words were rather ominous.
“Miss Dalton is about twenty-two, Mr.—ah—Wayne.”
Why was it, Earle wondered, that Mr. Dalton almost always addressed him in this peculiar way now, with a pause, an interjection, and that strange emphasis on his last name?