She had improved very rapidly during those three days, and though she was still exceedingly weak and nervous, starting at the lightest noise, the wild light returning to her eyes, yet the color was beginning to return to her cheeks and lips, the music to her voice, and the old look of brightness to her face. Mr. Dalton greeted Editha with some show of fondness, but he appeared anything but pleased when he heard of Earle’s return, and that it was through his instrumentality that she obtained her release, and almost immediately his manner began to assume its former coolness toward her. But Miss Dalton was not a daughter to be slighted by any means, when she had such a snug fortune of her own; and it now began to be whispered quite generally that Mr. Dalton had been exceedingly unfortunate in some of his speculations, and that it was a very fine thing that he could have her income to fall back upon during this rainy day. While he was not exactly uncivil or aggressive in his treatment of Earle, yet he testified his displeasure at his presence by sullen looks, sarcasm and sneers, until Earle more than once lost patience, and would have had it out with him had he not feared that any trouble would be serious injury to Editha in her weak state. But although he was very forbearing and always courteous, yet he never seemed to gain any ground with his enemy, and at last resolved to bring matters to a crisis. He called upon Mr. Dalton one morning at his own room, and formally proposed for Editha’s hand in marriage. Of course he had anticipated a refusal, and of course he got it. “I think, Mr. Dalton,” he said, not at all disconcerted, “that if you will listen while I explain to you something of the change that has occurred in my prospects during the last few months, you will not only be willing to waive all your objections, but give us both your blessing, instead of so curt a refusal.” Mr. Dalton sneered visibly at this; indeed his face was gradually acquiring a habitual sneer, as if things generally were disturbing his tranquillity. “Ahem! Mr. Wayne, permit me to say that no change, _of whatever nature_, in your prospects would affect my decision. You cannot marry Miss Dalton.” “But, sir, remember that no stain rests upon my name now. I am free from every taint.” “Indeed! I am glad that _you_ are so happy as to think so,” he returned, satirically. Earle flushed, but, controlling his indignation, he returned: “I not only think so, but all the world will be obliged to acknowledge it very soon, as I have already taken measures to have John Loker’s confession made public.” “What the world may think does not concern me at all; you will please consider my answer as final and unalterable;” and he waived his hand as if to dismiss the subject entirely. Again the hot blood rushed to Earle’s very forehead, and it was all he could do not to let his temper fly.