That evening, when I entered Sûr Imar's room, after leaving his daughter among her birds, the first thing I did was to watch him very keenly for any sign of anxiety or excitement, such as he might be expected to show if he had been just visited by that abominable Prince Hafer. What right had I to identify the man I had seen with the one of whom I had only heard? And even if that conclusion should prove right, by what process could I tell that there was nothing good about him? Yet in my mind there was no shadow of a doubt about either of those points, and I looked at Sûr Imar as if he must acquit himself of some contagion before I could enjoy his society. But he met me quite as usual, without even complaining of my unpunctuality; for he was a man of such dignity that he suspected nobody of slighting him. Whatever he might be doing, or of whatever he might be speaking, there was such simplicity, and largeness, and straightforwardness pervading it, that one seemed to fall into it and follow, instead of doubting, and querying, and perpending. And his gentle and friendly and kind steady gaze brought all that was good in one to meet him, and drove away the dirty streaks of our nature, to hide themselves under their own mud. "I have been considering, my dear young friend," he said, as he took and held my hand, and I felt ashamed to leave it in so warm a place, after all my cold suspicions, "about my behaviour to you the other day. Nothing unkind was intended, but unkindness is often done without that. You told me that you loved my dear, and now my only child. I should have received that with more goodwill, whether it suited my own views or not. For my manner then, I beg your pardon." I answered that nothing in his manner then, or at any time since I had known him, could be taken by any gentleman as uncourteous or inconsiderate. I had told him what was the main object of my life, and I felt that I was right in doing so; and although I could scarcely hope for his approval, being a poor man and of no high rank, I had done what seemed to me to be the proper thing, instead of coming as his guest upon false pretences. I spoke plainly, and he answered nobly. "Of rank I have not so much regard, as of the man who bears it. Neither do I think that wealth confers any high condition on its owner. In too many cases it lowers him. You will believe me when I say that neither of those questions causes my regret at what you told me. I live for only two things now--the happiness of my darling child, and the improvement of the noble race to which I happen to belong. I have also bitter wrongs, and the happiness of my life snatched from me. The love of revenge is in Eastern blood, and a very hard force it is to overcome. You of English race cannot enter into that, because it is not born in you. But I know what the indignation is, when the sense of justice rises."