"The story of her mother's sad fate, the sight of the ring with which we were married, which belonged to my first wife, and had her initials and my own engraved on the reverse side, and the tress of Alice's exquisite golden brown hair, corresponding with a lock, which, at that moment, was lying next my heart, removed all doubts, if such indeed had ever existed, that the poor dead wanderer was my wife."
"Forgive me, my lord, for interrupting you," said Gerard. "But how could you, being satisfied that this was the case, encourage an alliance between Dorothy and Gilbert Rushmere, a person so inferior to her in birth?"
"She loved him, Gerard; was quite unconscious of her real position, and I thought the knowledge of it would not conduce to her happiness, if it separated her from her lover. Rank and wealth had been the means of destroying mine for ever. Besides my son was living, and likely to live, and I had no wish to reveal to the world that sad and blotted page in my life, for the sake of securing an heir.
"Had Alice lived, I should have owned her as my wife to the world, exhibited the proofs of our marriage, and there the matter would have ended. But in legally claiming Dorothy, I should subject myself to the most painful and humiliating investigations, which going the rounds of the public papers, would be bruited abroad throughout the land. My children," he cried, in a tone of earnest entreaty, "it is in your power to save me from this terrible degradation."
A frown was gathering upon Gerard's brow, and he said, with some asperity:
"My lord, I do not quite understand your meaning. If you possess the legal proofs of Dorothy's legitimacy, you surely would not rob her of her birthright, to cover your own sin."
"What does it matter to her, Gerard? if she becomes your wife, she would still be Countess of Wilton. I am certain by what I know of Dorothy's unselfish character, that she would rather receive her title through her husband than through a law process, which would make her father the most miserable of men.
"What do you say, my daughter—will you insist upon the legal restitution of your rights, or be contented to receive them through your husband?"
Dorothy rose from the Earl's supporting arms, and stood up before him, her eyes brightened, and a vivid flush crimsoned her cheeks, as she said, with an air of decision, which admitted of no misinterpretation: