"All I can do is to remain single to the end of my days," said Val, after a pause. "I have been a great villain to both, and I cannot repair it to either. The one stands in the way of the other." "But--" "I beg your pardon, ma'am," he interrupted, so peremptorily that the old woman trembled for her power. "This is my final decision, and I will not hear another word. I feel ready to hang myself, as it is. You tell me I cannot marry any other than Maude without being a scoundrel; the same thing precisely applies to Anne. I shall remain single." "You will give me one promise--for Maude's sake. Not, after this, to marry Anne Ashton." "Why, how can I do it?" asked he, in tones of exasperation. "Don't you see that it is impossible? I shall not see the Ashtons again, ma'am; I would rather go a hundred miles the other way than face them." The countess-dowager probably deemed she had said sufficient for safety; for she went out and shut the door after her. Lord Hartledon dashed his hair from his brow with a hasty hand, and was about to leave the room by the other door, when Maude came up to him. "Is this to be the end of it, Percival?" She spoke in tones of pain, of tremulous tenderness; all her pride gone out of her. Lord Hartledon laid his hand upon her shoulder, meeting the dark eyes that were raised to his through tears. "Do you indeed love me like this, Maude? Somehow I never thought it." "I love you better than the whole world. I love you enough to give up everything for you." The emphasis conveyed a reproach--that he did not "give up everything" for her. But Lord Hartledon kept his head for once. "Heaven knows my bitter repentance. If I could repair this folly of mine by any sacrifice on my own part, I would gladly do it. Let me go, Maude! I have been here long enough, unless I were more worthy. I would ask you to forgive me if I knew how to frame the petition." She released the hand of which she had made a prisoner--released it with a movement of petulance; and Lord Hartledon quitted the room, the words she had just spoken beating their refrain on his brain. It did not occur to him in his gratified vanity to remember that Anne Ashton, about whose love there could be no doubt, never avowed it in those pretty speeches. "Well?" said Mr. Carr, when he got back to the dining-room. "It is not well, Carr; it is ill. There can be no release. The old dowager won't have it." "But surely you will not resign Miss Ashton for Lady Maude!" cried the barrister, after a pause of amazement. "I resign both; I see that I cannot do anything else in honour. Excuse me, Carr, but I'd rather not say any more about it just now; I feel half maddened." "Elster's folly," mentally spoke Thomas Carr. CHAPTER XVII. AN AGREEABLE WEDDING.