Stephen leaned on his crutches, trembling from head to foot at the news. He had known very well, poor fellow, in spite of mad dreams after an occasional moment of her fascinating kindness, that she could never be his; but her marriage had been a horrible dread for the distant future, and, now that it proved a not distant reality, his heart sunk within him. She was touched by the utter prostration of this poor cripple, who would, as she very well knew, have given his life at any moment for her. She led him to a chair, and tried to cheer him with a sort of regal tenderness. At last he said, his lips trembling: “But George can’t force you to marry him, Lily.” “Yes, he can, practically. The money that ought to have been mine, of course, I shall never get from this spendthrift crew. George says it is impossible that he can give me what my father intended me to have, that the estate is so burdened that there may be a break-up before very long, and I am half inclined to believe him. So I am portionless, and ought to think myself lucky to get a husband at all, it seems.” “But, Lilian, that is nonsense! You are the most beautiful girl in the country; you will make a sensation in London, and marry a duke, if you like. You are surely never going to let George do what he likes with you, with your high spirit?” The girl did not answer, but impulsively hid her face in her hands. A light came into Stephen’s troubled eyes, and he shuddered as he looked at her. “Lily,” he whispered, “has George heard anything?” “I think so,” she answered, without looking up. “He just hinted, in a way that made me think he must have been prying into my affairs, that it would be better for me to do as he wished. But, after all,” she cried, in a different tone, raising her proud head from the table as suddenly as she had cast it down, “I have done nothing wrong--nothing to be ashamed of. It is not my fault if I am so hunted and teased and mistrusted by my own family that I cannot see what friends I please, but must correspond with them secretly. For I won’t give up my friends at any one’s bidding!” “But you saw him not long ago, and by your friends’ invitation,” said Stephen, in a low voice. “What do you mean?” “Do you think I didn’t know at the first moment of seeing you with Colonel Richardson, that it was his letters I had been receiving for you? Oh, Lilian--and he is married!” “And what if he is?” asked the girl, quietly. “I like him well enough to marry him if he were free; but I am not going to give up his friendship just because Aunt Constantia and mamma and Annie insulted him and me when I was in town by saying our acquaintance was improper. I shall have what friends I please--now and always; and, if I am to marry Mr. Falconer soon after Christmas, I will see Colonel Richardson again before then.” “Soon after Christmas!” echoed Stephen, in a low voice.