As she put her hand on the latch the piteous old man held forth his arms toward her and in a wail of agony cried: "Doll! Doll! My daughter! My child! God help me!" He covered his face with his hands, his great form shook for a moment as the tree trembles before the fall, and he fell prone to the floor sobbing forth the anguish of which his soul was full. In an instant Dorothy was by her father's side holding his head upon her lap. She covered his face with her kisses, and while the tears streamed from her eyes she spoke incoherent words of love and repentance. "I will tell you all, father; I will tell you all. I will give him up; I will see him never again. I will try not to love him. Oh, father, forgive me, forgive me. I will never again deceive you so long as I live." Truly the fate of an overoath is that it shall be broken. When one swears to do too much, one performs too little. I helped Sir George rise to his feet. Dorothy, full of tenderness and in tears, tried to take his hand, but he repulsed her rudely, and uttering terrible oaths coupled with her name quitted the room with tottering steps. When her father had gone Dorothy stood in revery for a little time, and then looking toward the door through which her father had just passed, she spoke as if to herself: "He does not know. How fortunate!" "But you said you would tell him," I suggested. "You said you would give him up." Dorothy was in a deep revery. She took her bodice from the floor and mechanically put it on.