"Hartledon, you are bound in honour to my daughter; you have sought her affections, and gained them. Ah, Percival, don't you know that it is you she has loved all along? In the days when I was worrying her about your brother, she cared only for you. You cannot be so infamous as to desert her." "I wish to Heaven she had never seen me!" cried the unfortunate man, beginning to wonder whether he could break through these trammels. "I'd sacrifice myself willingly, if that would put things straight." "You cannot sacrifice Maude. Look at her!" and the crafty old dowager flourished her hand towards the fireplace, where Maude stood in all her beauty. "A daughter of the house of Kirton cannot be taken up and cast aside at will. What would the world say of her?" "The world need never know." "Not know!" shrieked the dowager; "not know! Why, her trousseau is ordered, and some of the things have arrived. Good Heavens, Hartledon, you dare not trifle with Maude in this way. You could never show your face amongst men again." "But neither dare I trifle with Anne Ashton," said Lord Hartledon, completely broken down by the gratuitous information. He saw that the situation was worse than even he had bargained for, and all his irresolution began to return upon him. "If I knew what was right to be done, I'm sure I'd do it." "Right, did you say? Right? There cannot be a question about that. Which is the more fitting to grace your coronet: Maude, or a country parson's daughter?" "I'm sure if this goes on I shall shoot myself," cried Val. "Taken to task at the Rectory, taken to task here--shooting would be bliss to it." "No doubt," returned the dowager. "It can't be a very pleasant position for you. Any one but you would get out of it, and set the matter at rest." "I should like to know how." "So long as you are a single man they naturally remain on the high ropes at the Rectory, with their fine visions for Anne--" "I wish you would understand once for all, Lady Kirton, that the Ashtons are our equals in every way," he interrupted: "and," he added, "in worth and goodness infinitely our superiors." The dowager gave a sniff. "You think so, I know, Hart. Well, the only plan to bring you peace is this: make Maude your wife. At once; without delay." The proposition took away Val's breath. "I could not do it, Lady Kirton. To begin with, they'd bring an action against me for breach of promise." "Breach of nonsense!" wrathfully returned the dowager. "Was ever such a thing heard of yet, as a doctor of divinity bringing an action of that nature? He'd lose his gown." "I wish I was at the bottom of a deep well, never to come up again!" mentally aspirated the unfortunate man. "Will--you--marry--Maude?" demanded the dowager, with a fixed denunciation in every word, which was as so much slow torture to her victim. "I wish I could. You must see for yourself, Lady Kirton, that I cannot. Maude must see it." "I see nothing of the sort. You are bound to her in honour."