“He has always looked upon himself as his uncle’s heir, and you, by your action, would change that, willfully and pitilessly. You would wreck him for life, not only in his heart’s affection, but in his worldly prospects. And last, but by no means least, you would defy the will and the wish of the man who gave you shelter at Blackheath Hall all these years, instead of having you sent to some foundling’s home. Surely your gratitude to him deserves compliance with his wise decree.” Queenie had used all her weapons of argument, and she stopped short, looking at Jess to see the effect of her words upon her. Jess was as pale as a snowdrop, and great tears trembled on her long, curling lashes. “It can never be,” she reiterated in a trembling voice. “I beg of you to say no more about it, Queenie. Only let me have my way in not seeing him, if you would be kind to me.” “I refuse to wound the man who loves you so dearly by giving him such a cruel message,” replied Queenie, coldly and harshly. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE WEB OF FATE. “If fate should let us meet, what should we do? Would each our hearts their olden love renew? Or would the clouds that o’er us loom Remain unmoved, with all their gloom, If we should meet--if we should meet?” At this juncture of our story, it is most imperative that we should return to John Dinsmore, whom we left standing, cold and taciturn, on the porch, waving his child-bride good-by as she went from him in company with Lawyer Abbot. He did not go into the house, as Lucy Caldwell ardently hoped he would do, but instead started off at a swinging pace toward the orchard. He wanted to be alone, where he could have the luxury of undisturbed thoughts, and where he could get away from the presence of Lucy Caldwell and her love-lit glances and blushing face, all of which were most annoying to him, as they disclosed the fact that the girl was learning to care for him, a fact which troubled him, as he had given her no encouragement to become infatuated with himself; on the contrary, had taken every possible means on every occasion to discourage it, and dissipate any hopes which she might be indulging in. His long strides soon brought him to the orchard. Walking to the farthest end of it, he flung himself down under one of the gnarled old trees, and gave himself up to grim reflections. Had he done a wise action in marrying the girl from whom he had just parted in such cold, angry pride? Over and over again he asked himself that question, and tried to answer it satisfactorily to his troubled mind.