"Sure and is it St. Udo Brand I would compare with the likes of him!" exclaimed Lady Dora scornfully, "and is it you, mavourneen, that I see with the blush of shame on account of him? You don't mean to be so insane as to marry him, Miss Walsingham, darling?" "I don't expect to marry him," answered Margaret, gravely. "He's not worthy of you," cried Lady Dora, holding her off at arm's length and looking at her with dubious eyes. "I'll grant that he was a gallant soldier and a handsome man but he's old in sin, and it's not for you, my white dove, to nestle in the vulture's nest, and you won't--you won't!" snatching her to her bosom and straining her close. "I will hear nothing against St. Udo Brand," said Margaret, withdrawing herself and standing erect so that the generous fire in her face and voice invested her splendid figure with a dignity most queen-like; "I cannot expect the world to believe in the true nobility of his character, but I know it. Desperate he may have been--reckless, scorning, but the crisis of his sinning has passed, and the man is noble still; and Heaven will bless immeasurably the woman who marries him." She clasped her hands in her generous excitement, and stood, a resistless and passionate conqueror, confessing the greatness of her forgiveness for the first time. "Faith, I see how it is that you haven't a thought for poor Alfred," sighed Lady Dora, looking at her with tears in her bright black eyes; "because of the fellow's misfortunes and on account of keeping his castle for him from another impostor who was worse than himself, you have fallen in love with St. Udo Brand in spite of his evil reputation." "I would give up anything--my life--to make amends to Colonel Brand for the misfortunes I have brought upon him," said Margaret, with burning cheeks and distressed eyes, "but I never expect, or wish him to prize my love. I owe him much, for being the marplot of his life"--she paused, and the tears rolled sadly down her cheeks--"but I never dreamed--not once, that he would care for my love!" "A better man cares for your love then," retorted Lady Dora, "and it's not throwing yourself away you would be if you gave it. Now, Miss Walsingham, darling, won't you take a friend's advice and wear a ducal coronet? Won't you have me for a sister?" "Your brother does me too much honor to propose such a thing," returned Margaret, simply. "Not a bit of it! I'll tell you candidly I thought so myself at first, and that's why I was so long in making up to you, for a simpleton as I was, and poor Alfred tearing at me every day. But I couldn't help liking you at the last, mavourneen, and I'd be the happiest woman in the three kingdoms to call you the Duchess of Piermont, and--there, it's out!" Margaret gazed in considerable surprise at her enthusiastic friend.