“You have spoken of some reason for the recluse-like life you are leading,” added Sir Harold; “you have spoken of some danger that menaces your daughter if your identity be discovered. Why should you run the risk of this? If you object to my presence here, let me go quietly away elsewhere.” At that moment he saw the light of adoration in Theresa’s humid eyes, and he never forgot it. “Sir Harold,” Mr. Hamilton said, brokenly, “you shall please yourself. You shall do just as you wish--all but one thing. I cannot part with you; I dare not let you go away until God lifts the cloud that has blotted out your past. We are poor--miserably poor--but you will not miss the luxuries of life now, and it may be that soon, very soon, you will awaken to the full knowledge of all that you have lost. At least, we will hope for the best. We will wait for a while, and then----” But Sir Harold interrupted him with words of thanks, saying: “Enough, sir; I am quite satisfied. You have told me sufficient to convince me that my past, whatever it may be, is linked with the perfidy of some woman--that it is one of misery. The present is one of perfect joy! I shall not be a burden upon you. I have money in my pocketbook amounting to hundreds of pounds. I will stay until I can return to the world a rational being, and it will be amusing to read the papers about myself--to see how a man is valued after he is thought to be dead.” He laughed a little, and while Mr. Hamilton grasped his hand in token of acquiescence, Theresa glided swiftly from the room to hide her joy. CHAPTER IX. “I SHALL WAIT, IF NEED BE, FOREVER.” The mysterious, unaccountable disappearance of Sir Harold Annesley was the talk of all England. In some way, the quarrel between himself and Lady Elaine Seabright had got into the papers. First, it was published in a society journal; then it went the whole round of the press. This is the way in which the public received the news: ROMANCE OUTDONE.--It now transpires that the quixotic young baronet, who has provided society with a new nine days’ wonder, has violently quarreled with his _fiancée_, the Lady Elaine Seabright. My lady discovered at a very early stage of their love-making that Sir Harold was periodically attacked with insane jealousy. The theory of Stimson, the valet, that his master has met with foul play is absurd, simply because he got rid of Mr. Stimson by a sly trick. No, Sir Harold merely left England under an assumed name, and is no doubt quietly enjoying the sensation he has created. At any rate, he is teaching his capricious ladylove a lesson which she may not readily forget. Colonel Greyson read this with bristling mustache and a face purple with anger. He showed it to Margaret Nugent, little dreaming that the cruel story had emanated from her. Then he rode over to Seabright Hall, and found that a marked copy of the paper had been sent to Lady Elaine.