“Dishonorable man!” said his father, rising up in a state of the deepest emotion. “You have made me weary of life; you have broken my heart: and so you would stoop to defend yourself, or your lights, by a crime—by a crime so low, fraudulent, and base—that here, in the privacy of my own chamber, and standing face to face with you, I am absolutely ashamed to call you my son. Know, sir, that if it were a dukedom, I should scorn to contest it, or to retain it, at the expense of my honor.”
“That's all very fine talk, my lord; but, upon my soul, wherever I can get an advantage, I'll take it. I see little of the honor or virtue you speak of going, and, I do assure you, I won't be considered at all remarkable for acting up to my own principles. On the contrary, it is by following yours that I should be so.”
“I think,” said the old man, “that I see the hand of God in this. Unfortunate, obstinate, and irreclaimable young man, it remains for me to tell you that the very documents, which you say have been lost by the villain M'Bride, with whom, in his villainy, you, the son of an earl, did not hesitate to associate yourself, are now in the possession of our opponents. Take those papers to your room,” he added, bursting into tears: “take them away, I am unable to prolong this interview, for it has been to me a source of deeper affliction than the loss of the highest title or honor that the hand of royalty could bestow.”
When Dunroe was about to leave the room, the old man, who had again sat down, said:
“Stop a moment. Of course it is unnecessary to say, I should hope, that this union between you and Miss Gourlay cannot proceed.”
Dunroe, who felt at once that if he allowed his father to suppose that he persisted in it, the latter would immediately disclose his position to the baronet, now replied:
“No, my lord, I have no great ambition for any kind of alliance with Sir Thomas Gourlay. I never liked him personally, and I am sufficiently a man of spirit, I trust, not to urge a marriage with a girl who—who—cannot appreciate—” He paused, not knowing exactly how to fill up the sentence.
“Who has no relish for it,” added his father, “and can't appreciate your virtues, you mean to say.”
“What I mean to say, my lord, is, that where there is no great share of affection on either side, there can be but little prospect of happiness.”
“Then you give up the match?”