"Because I loved him all the while, uncle," she writes, pleadingly, "and at last I found it would break my heart to give him up. I could not love Mr. Charteris, though I tried hard, because you wished it. And indeed, Uncle Langton, you are deceived in Vane Charteris. It was your money he wanted, not me; but poor Clyde loves me for myself alone. I know you will forgive me when I come back to you, for you cannot long be angry with your own loving Maud." All this to the uncle she had disobeyed, but not one word to the lover she had betrayed and deserted. He stands silent, biting his lips to keep back the words that rush to them, a lurid flame of angry scorn burning in his dark blue eyes. "I could bear all else but that most cruel thrust," he says to his old friend, hoarsely, when the dismayed bride's-maids have left them together, amid the splendid paraphernalia of the bridal chamber. "When she knew how I loved her, to cast that wretched money into my face! Great God! the falsity of women! Henceforth I live only for revenge!" The old man, so old and feeble that people said of him already that he had "one foot in the grave and the other on the brink," whirled around, and paused in his terrible revilings of Maud and her chosen lover, and looked strangely at his favorite. "So you want revenge, my boy," he said, chuckling wickedly. "You are right to live for it. Very well, you shall have it ready made to your hand." "How?" Vane Charteris asked, eagerly. "That false, deceitful jade shall never receive a penny from my hoarded wealth!" declared Mr. Langton. "You shall have all." But Vane Charteris shakes his head, decisively. "No," he says, firmly, "I will not have my revenge that way. It would be defrauding another. You have another niece." "I have not forgotten her claims," Mr. Langton says, grimly. "I was going on to speak of her when you interrupted me. What I was about to say was this: Reine Langton shall be my heiress, and you shall be her husband." Vane Charteris starts and recoils. "No, no!" he exclaims. "What! you refuse my niece's hand when I offer it to you?" he storms. "Yes; I cannot marry her, for I do not love her," Vane answers, firmly. "You handsome idiot! Who said anything about love? I thought we were discussing revenge," cries the old man, testily. "So we were, but I cannot take my revenge like that! I would sooner die than have an unloved wife tied around my neck like a mill-stone," Vane Charteris answers, gravely. "An unloved wife," the old man repeats; "and pray, couldn't you love my niece, Reine? She's a bright little beauty to my thinking." "Love that little hoiden, that incorrigible vixen!" the young man cries, regarding his mother's old friend as if he thought he had taken leave of his senses. Mr. Langton frowns darkly. "Take care," he says, "you are speaking of my heiress, remember. I see how it is. Maud disliked Reine--jealous of her bright prettiness, perhaps--she has set you against her."