He did not speak, but he looked at her, not doubting what she would do, nor conceiving it possible that she could prefer to him, her lover, whose sweet professions were still honey in her ears, whose arm was still warm from the pressure of her form—that she could prefer to him, a father who was no more than the shadow of a name. But he did not know Mary yet, either in her strength or her weakness. Nor did he consider that her father was already more than a name to her. She hung a moment undecided and wretched, drooping as the white rose that hangs its head in the first shower. Then she turned to the elder man, and throwing her arms about his neck hung in tears on his breast. “You will be good to him, sir,” she whispered passionately. “Oh, forgive him! Forgive him, sir!” “My dear——” “Oh, forgive him, sir!” Sir Robert smoothed her hair with a caressing hand, and with pinched lips and bright eyes looked at his adversary over her head. “I would forgive him,” he said, “I could forgive him—all but this! All but this, my dear! I could forgive him had he not tricked you and deceived you, cozened you and flattered you—into this! Into the belief that he loves you, while he loves only your inheritance! Or that part,” he added bitterly, “of which he has not already robbed you!” “Sir Robert,” Vaughan said, “you have stooped very low. But it will not avail you.” “It has availed me so far,” the baronet retorted. With confidence he was regaining also command of himself. Vaughan winced. In proportion as the other recovered his temper, he lost his. “It will avail me still farther,” Sir Robert continued exultantly, “when my daughter understands, as she shall understand, sir, that when you came here to-day, when you stole a march on me, as you thought, and proposed marriage to her behind my back, you knew all that I knew! Knew, sir, that she was my daughter, knew that she was my heiress, knew that she ousted you, knew that by a marriage with her, and by that only, you could regain all that you had lost!” “It is a lie!” Vaughan cried, stung beyond endurance. He was pale with anger. “Then refute it!” Sir Robert said, clasping the girl, who had involuntarily winced at the word, more closely to him. “Refute it, sir! Refute it!” “It is absurd! It—it needs no refutation!” Vaughan cried. “Why?” Sir Robert retorted. “I state it. I am prepared to prove it! I have three witnesses to the fact!” “To the fact that I——” “That you knew,” Sir Robert replied. “Knew this lady to be my daughter when you came here this morning—as well as I knew it myself.” Vaughan returned his look in speechless indignation. Did the man really believe in a charge, which at first had seemed to be mere vulgar abuse. It was not possible! “Sir Robert,” he said, speaking slowly and with dignity, “I never did you harm by word or deed until a day or two ago. And then, God knows, perforce and reluctantly. How then can you lower yourself to—to such a charge as this?”