"Let us drop his name," interrupted the old man, "it has not crossed my lips for years, but now that your suggestion brings back the past to me, I am puzzled and surprised a little. I remember now, how Honor carefully collected every little trifling belonging of Guy's that had been left at our house, and carried them to her own room, where they have laid since. I thought at the time, it was to spare me the pain of coming across them, as she had heard something of our dispute; but now, I recognize the possibility of there having been a more pitiful motive. She never utters his name either. I wonder have I done them both the awful wrong of thrusting myself between their young hearts, and spoiling the happy ambition of their lives--may God help me to repair it if I have!" Guy's head fell wearily on his folded arms that rested on the back of a vacant chair in front of him. This was such a painful scene to witness in silence that he felt himself almost overcome. He never cherished Honor so wildly or devotedly as he did at this moment. The details that fell from the lips of his uncle were items of a sad, sweet tale for him--he no longer doubted of her faithful love for him now. Lest Mr. Rayne should become too remorseful for the injustice he had done these young people, Vivian hastened to speak in a reassuring voice. "But it is plain, Mr. Rayne, if your nephew thought anything of this girl, he would have sent her some word or token of regard at parting, in spite of you or anyone else, that might encourage or sustain her love during their separation. This he did not think it worth his while to do, which is almost proof positive that he cared very little for her." "Heaven help me to bear this!" was Guy's inarticulate prayer as those last words reached his ears. "Of all the infamous blackguards and disreputable scoundrels I ever met"--here he stopped, and listened again. They had resumed the topic of Vivian's proposal. "I tell you," said Mr. Rayne wearily, "to visit and court her for three months longer, anyway. At the end of that time you can propose if you will, and I will give my consent readily. I am glad to hear you say you have means enough to hold you independent of my little girl's fortune. I would not like to see her wedded for her dowry." "The wealth of character and beauty is her real dowry, Mr. Rayne," the hypocrite replied, "Any other is worthless before that." "Aye, aye! you are right there, my boy," added Mr. Rayne, shaking his head pensively. Then changing his tone suddenly said, "I feel a little chilly here, Vivian, my boy; let us go inside." "Take my arm, Mr. Rayne, and let me feel that in even so little a thing I can make myself useful to you."