“My darling!” he said, in low, intense pleading tones. “I am going with _you_,” she whispered; and his arms instantly encircled her, a low-spoken thanksgiving and blessing falling from his lips, the burden rolling from his heart. “Papa is already so estranged from me,” she continued, “that I know I should be miserable to let you go back alone; you would be very unhappy also.” The closer clasp of the arms infolding her confirmed the truth of her statements, and told her how very dear she was to him. The golden head drooped and rested trustfully against his shoulder, and she went on: “Perhaps, when he sees how determined I am, he may relent and consent to go with us. At all events, I feel that I have no right to ruin both our lives, and yield to an unreasonable command of his.” Before Earle could reply, Mr. Dalton himself entered the room. “Ah! quite an affecting tableau,” he said, with a disagreeable sneer; “it seems to be my privilege to—to have the benefit of these interesting scenes.” His eyes glittered with anger as they rested upon Earle, but he continued, speaking to Editha: “I must beg pardon for the intrusion; I merely came to say that I want you to be ready to go to Newport next week.” Editha flushed. He had never spoken quite so peremptorily to her before; he had been more willing to consult her convenience and pleasure, more especially since he had in a measure been dependent upon her income to supply his own wants. She had seen, too, the look of malignant hatred which he had cast upon Earle, and her spirit arose in rebellion against it. She had quietly withdrawn from her lover’s embrace when the door opened, but remained standing by his side. “Papa, I—I am not going to Newport this summer,” she said, with outward calmness; but Earle could almost feel her tremble, and his heart ached for her, in prospect of the conflict which he knew must come. “Not going to Newport!” Mr. Dalton said, with raised eyebrows and well-feigned surprise. “Who ever heard of such a thing as our not going to Newport during the summer? Of course you are going to Newport, Editha; I could not think of leaving you at home alone, and—I should be so exceedingly lonesome;” and he shot a cunning glance at the young couple, that disagreeable sneer still upon his lips. “Papa, I am really sorry if you will be lonely——” began Editha, a tremble in her voice, when Earle quietly laid his hand upon hers and stopped her. “Mr. Dalton,” he said, in a cold, business-like tone, “we may as well come to the point and have this matter settled once for all. Editha has already decided to return with me to Europe as my wife.” Instead of a blaze of anger, as he had expected, Mr. Dalton chuckled audibly, and gleefully rubbed his hands together, as if this were really a delightful piece of news to him. But he took no more notice of Earle than if he had not been there. Instead, he again addressed himself to Editha: