"Shame and disgrace cannot attach to her. Madam, I must beg you to remember that in a few hours that young lady will be my wife. Do not try my temper too sorely."
"No, not to her, but to her father," panted madam--and Arthur felt frightened, he knew not why, at her strong emotion. "Would you wed the daughter of a--a----"
Madam paused. Arthur looked at her; his compressed lips trembled just a little.
"Of a what, mother? Pray go on."
"Of everything that is bad. A forger. A convict."
There was a dead pause. Nothing to be heard but the whirling train. "A--what?" gasped Captain Bohun, when he could get back his breath.
"A CONVICT," burst forth madam in a scream; for her agitation was becoming irrepressible. "Why do you make me repeat painful things?"
"Mother! Of whom do you speak?"
"Of her father: William Adair."
He fell back in the carriage as one who is shot. As one from whom life and all that can make it sweet, had suddenly gone out for ever.