CHAPTER XIX.
"THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE."
'Twere wild to hope for her, you say, I've torn and cast those words away, Surely there's hope! For life 'tis well Love without hope's impossible.
—COVENTRY PATMORE.
Father Philip had lain under the sod but one sunset before the fruits of Margaret's intriguing began to make themselves apparent.
It was with a secret sense of misgiving that Manners received an invitation, which he readily construed into a command, to attend the baron in his private room, and it was with a fluttering heart that he prepared himself to meet Dorothy's father. Nor were his forebodings set at rest or in anywise lightened by the first view he got of the baron.
Sir George was pacing up and down the room, but hearing the door open he stopped suddenly, and when Manners entered he saw upon the knight's face a look which at once struck a chill to his heart.
"Sit down, Manners, sit down," said the baron curtly.
He was nervous and excited, and as Manners obeyed the injunction he clearly perceived this fact, and it afforded him a little satisfaction.
"You wished to see me?" he exclaimed, breaking the awkward silence which ensued after he had sat down.