The story of Earlescourt might have been different, had not Ronald, while still amazed and irritated by his father's cool contempt, encountered Ralph Holt. They met at the gate leading from the fields to the high road; it was closed between them, and neither could make way. "I have a little account to settle with you, my young lordling," said Ralph, angrily. "Doves never mate with eagles; if you want to marry, choose one of your own class, and leave Dora Thorne to me." "Dora Thorne is mine," said Ronald, haughtily. "She will never be," was the quick reply. "See, young master, I have loved Dora since she was a--a pretty, bright-eyed child. Her father lived near my father's farm then. I have cared for her all my life--I do not know that I have ever looked twice at another woman's face. Do not step in between me and my love. The world is wide, and you can choose where you will--do not rob me of Dora Thorne." There was a mournful dignity in the man's face that touched Ronald. "I am sorry for you," he said, "if you love Dora; for she will be my wife." "Never!" cried Ralph. "Since you will not listen to fair words, I defy you. I will go to Eastham and never leave Dora again until she will be my own." High, angry words passed between them, but Ralph in his passion had told the secret Ronald had longed to know--Dora was at Eastham. It was a sad story and yet no rare one. Love and jealousy robbed the boy of his better sense; duty and honor were forgotten. Under pretense of visiting one of his college friends, Ronald went to Eastham. Lord and Lady Earle saw him depart without any apprehension; they never suspected that he knew where Dora was. It was a sad story, and bitter sorrow came from it. Word by word it can not be written, but when the heir of Earlescourt saw Dora again, her artless delight, her pretty joy and sorrow mingled, her fear and dislike of Ralph, her love for himself drove all thought of duty and honor from his mind. He prayed her to become his wife secretly. He had said that when once they were married his father would forgive them, and all would be well. He believed what he said; Dora had no will but his. She forgot all Lady Earle's warnings; she remembered only Ronald and his love. So they were married in the quiet parish church of Helsmeer, twenty miles from Eastham, and no human being either knew or guessed their secret. There was no excuse, no palliation for an act that was undutiful, dishonorable, and deceitful--there was nothing to plead for him, save that he was young, and had never known a wish refused.