"From your remark," said Dare, "I can only conclude that Mr. Cortelyon's hard heart has at length relented, and that he has made up his mind to acknowledge his grandson."
Nell shook her head. "I am sorry to say that nothing of the kind has come to pass. My uncle is still as much embittered against the boy as ever he was."
"Excuse me, but you spoke of those to whom the boy is bound by the ties of blood as----"
"Am I not bound to Evan by the tie of blood, Mr. Dare?"
"The fact is one which cannot be disputed. Then, you wish me to understand----?" He paused.
"That from now I charge myself wholly and solely with Evan's future. 'Tis what I have long wished, nay, determined to do, but till to-day you and I have never met." The last words had hardly passed her lips before a quick flush mounted to her cheeks. Unthinkingly she had given utterance to an untruth. They two had met before, although he seemed to be wholly unaware of the fact. But there was no possibility of recalling her words even had she been desirous of doing so. "And----and consequently I have had no opportunity of making this known to you before." The break had only been momentary. Had he noticed it? She could not tell.
Dare's face darkened, and the line between his eyebrows became more marked. "I was certainly not prepared for this," he replied. "Had I had any prevision of what I was about to hear, much as I value my introduction to Miss Baynard, I think I should hardly have come near Lawn Cottage to-day."
Nell's eyes struck fire, and for a moment or two her teeth bit into her underlip; but when she spoke it was with no trace of temper.
"That was a very rude speech on your part, Mr. Dare, to address to a lady. But, under the circumstances, I can make every allowance for your feelings, and I am not going to take offence at it. The one thing I am sorry about in connection with this affair is that some such arrangement was not come to long ago."
"And I am grieved that it should ever be come to. It will cut me to the quick, I tell you plainly. When poor Dick lay on his deathbed I gave him my word that while I had a crust his boy should not want, and that I would do my best to make up to him for that stroke of ill-fortune which was about to rob him of a father's love and care. It was a promise which, as far as the exigencies and circumstances of my life would allow, I have striven to fulfil to the best of my ability. That life--my life--is a very lonely one, how lonely you cannot conceive, and in the course of time my dead friend's son has grown very dear to me. Yet now, Miss Baynard, you would come between us (how cruel in some things is your sex!) and would deprive me of him."