"I have, indeed, father, and it is about the best action of my life," said Lord Chandos. "How do you intend to face my lady?" asked the earl, with the voice and manner of one who proposes a difficulty not to be solved. "I thought you would help us, father; at least, speak to my wife." The earl looked at the beautiful, distressed face. "I am very sorry," he said, "sorry for you, Lance, and the lady, but I cannot receive her as your wife." "She is my wife, whether you receive her or not," said Lord Chandos. "Leone, how can I apologize to you? I never expected that my father would receive you in this fashion. Father, look at her; think how young, how beautiful she is; you cannot be unkind to her." "I have no wish to be unkind," said the earl, "but I cannot receive her as your wife." Then, seeing the color fade from her face, he hastened to find her a chair, and poured out a glass of wine for her; he turned with a stern face to his son. "What have you been doing?" he cried. "While your mother and I thought you were working hard to make up for lost time, what have you been doing?" "I have been working very hard," he replied, "and my work will bring forth good fruit; but, father, I have found leisure for love as well." "So it seems," said the earl, dryly; "perhaps you will tell me who this lady is, and why she comes home with you?" "My wife; her name was Leone Noel; she is now Lady Chandos." For the first time Leone spoke. "I am a farmer's niece, my lord," she said, simply. Her voice had a ring of music in it so sweet that it struck the earl with wonder. "A farmer's niece," he replied. "You will forgive me for saying that a farmer's niece can be no fitting wife for my son." "I love him, my lord, very dearly, and I will try hard to be all that he can wish me to be." "Bravely spoken; but it is quite in vain; my lady would never hear of such a thing--I dare not--I cannot sanction it, even by a word, my lady would never forgive me. Can you tell me when this rash action was accomplished?" "This is our wedding-day, father," cried Lord Chandos. "Only think of it, our wedding-day, and you receive us like this. How cruel and cold." "Nay, I am neither," said the earl; "it is rather you, Lance, who do not seem to realize what you have done. You seem to think you belong to yourself; you are mistaken; a man in your position belongs to his country, his race, to his family, not to himself; that view of the question, probably, did not strike you." "No," replied Lord Chandos, "it certainly did not; but, father, if I have done wrong, forgive me." "I do forgive you, my dear boy, freely; young men will be foolish--I forgive you; but do not ask me to sanction your marriage or receive your wife. I cannot do it." "Then, of what use is your forgiveness? Oh, father, I did not expect this from you; you have always been so kind to me. I had fancied difficulties with my mother, but none with you."