"Certainly not," she replied; "but it is our duty to make as good an alliance for her as we can. You ought to perceive that this is to her advantage, and if you care for her welfare as much as you would have us believe, you would help us to secure it for her, instead of placing her in a position which can only breed discontent and mischief," and without giving Manners time to reply she swept proudly out of the room and left him alone with his sorrow.
CHAPTER XX.
THE TROTHPLIGHT.
Yet even now it is good to think,
While my few poor varlets grumble and drink,
In my desolate hall where the fires sink;
Of Dorothy sitting glorious there,
In glory of gold and glory of hair,
And glory of glorious face most fair;
Likewise to-night I make good cheer,
Because this battle draweth near,
For what have I to love or fear?
W. MORRIS (adapted).
John Manners sought out Dorothy as soon as the interview was concluded, and he was fortunate enough to find her alone.
Poor Dorothy; she had long expected this meeting, and she had tried to prepare herself to face it. Her love, subjected to such a terrible strain, had come like gold out of the refining fire. It had grown stronger and better, and as she saw her lover emerge from the room she realised for the first time how much she really loved him.
The tale was soon told, and as he poured into her ears the unwelcome tidings her tender heart was lacerated by each successive word.
"And now, my own sweet Dorothy," he concluded, "you know all. I have told thee all the pitiful story. Would to God it had been a pleasant tale I had to tell thee, but alas! I have told thee but the truth."
He looked fondly into her face, and wondered how often he would be permitted to see it more. It was deadly pale, and her lips quivered again as she endeavoured to keep them tightly closed.