"Elinor, return to the house," he said. "I will join you there presently." Elinor walked away, but she did not return to the hall as her father had commanded. Instead, she hid herself behind a clump of willows, where she could hear every word that passed between the two men. Some excited words ensued. Bertram Chesleigh was cool and calm. He denied that John Glenalvan had any right to call him to account for what he carelessly termed his innocent flirtation with little Golden. "From what I can hear," he said, "you have treated the girl both cruelly and wrongfully. I stand ready to answer to Golden's grandfather for any wrong he may consider I have done, but I shall make no apology to you, Mr. Glenalvan." "Why, not?" said the man, with repressed passion. "The girl is my niece!" "Yet you have wickedly secluded her from all society, and even debarred her of her freedom," said Bertram Chesleigh, indignantly. "It is your fault alone that she has been driven to seek the natural delights of youth in a clandestine manner." "It is not my fault, but her mother's," said John Glenalvan, significantly. His face grew pale as he spoke; his eyes strayed furtively to the quiet lake, lying silvery and serene in the clear moonlight. "How? I do not understand you," said the other, haughtily. John Glenalvan hesitated a moment. When he spoke it was with an affectation of deep feeling and manly sorrow. "Mr. Chesleigh," he said, "your unhesitating charge against me of cruelty to my niece forces me to the disclosure of a most painful family secret--one that I would fain have guarded from your knowledge. There is a strong reason for my course toward Golden Glenalvan." He paused, and the listener said, hoarsely: "A reason----" then paused, because his voice had broken utterly. "Yes, a reason," was the bitter reply. "Mr. Chesleigh, little Golden is the child of my own and only sister, but--how shall I tell you--she has no right and no place in the world. She is _a nameless child_!" The solid earth seemed to reel beneath Mr. Chesleigh's feet. He staggered back dizzily, and threw up his hands as if the man had struck him. "He is proud. The blow tells fearfully," thought Elinor, watching him through the trees with vindictive eyes. "Ah, my defiant Golden, your last chance is gone now. He will never look at you again!" "Mr. Glenalvan, you do not mean it. You are but trying my credulity," cried Bertram Chesleigh. "Is it likely that I would publish a falsehood to my own discredit?" inquired the other. "No, no--but, oh, God, this is too dreadful to believe!"