“Yet nevertheless, my dear young friend, it was upon _that subject_ that I wished to speak to you. Mr. and Mrs. Ashley will make this house their permanent home. My son’s wife will be the mistress of the establishment, of course. Will it be pleasant for you to meet them in daily, hourly intercourse? I have seen it written, that ‘friendship sometimes turns to love, but love to friendship never.’ A brimstone sentiment, I admit. Still, I can imagine cases and characters to which it is applicable. For instance, I do not think it possible for you and your cousin ever to be friends.” Mark was silent. “You do not speak. Do you perchance imagine that you two could live comfortably under the same roof?” “Colonel Ashley, I know we could not.” “That will do; we understand each other. And I leave all the rest to yourself. I will speak with you again to-morrow. In the meantime, do me the favour to let Miss Vivian know that I wish to see her.” CHAPTER XVI. THE CONFESSION. “She’ll go with him, in all his weal and woe; She’ll be with him in sunshine and in storm; In his afflictions, should they fall on him; In his temptations, when bad men beset him; In all the perils which may press around him; And, should they crush him, in the hour of death.” _Taylor—“Philip Van Artevelde.”_ “Come here, Rosalie; I want to have a very serious talk with you, my child,” said Colonel Ashley, rising to meet his niece, as she entered, and leading her to a seat. “Now, my dear, I am very sorry for something that I have just heard. Nay, now, be calm, my dear—I am not going to scold. If I indulge in any sort of reproach, it must be in self-reproach for my own reprehensible carelessness. And so, my child, you are engaged to be married!” Rosalie’s face crimsoned, and her eyes fell to the ground. “And what good, Rosalie, do you think will ever come of this imprudent step?” The blush deepened on her cheek, but she did not reply. “And what am I to think of this penniless young man, who uses his position in my family to wile the affections of my niece—an heiress? Would it not be a fair and rational conclusion to set him down as an unprincipled fortune-hunter?” Rosalie started. Her eyes flashed, her lips quivered. She exclaimed— “Uncle, you do not believe that—you do not!” “Would it not be fair to believe it?” “Uncle, you are a noble-hearted being—you always recognise true nobility in others. Uncle, be just to Mr. Sutherland—nay, be just to yourself—unsay your words.” “Why, Rosalie, ninety-nine out of a hundred would call your lover a fortune-hunter.” “Oh, sir, they could not—they could not! knowing that Mr. Sutherland voluntarily renounced a large fortune for an idea of duty.”