Later in the day, after he had written to the lawyers thanking them for their communication, and asking them to be so kind as to pay the five thousand pounds to his account in the London and County Bank, and after he and his mother had discussed Mr. Hamilton’s somewhat sudden decease during an attack of pneumonia, he damped all her joy by declaring that the first step he should take would be to go to London to Doris Anderson, and the second would be to marry her forthwith. "I think she will consent," he said, "as her only reason for refusing me before was that the debt was not paid. Now I have only to go to her and say, ’Doris, part of the debt is paid. I have come to marry you,’ and then she will consent--oh, yes, I know she will consent!" and his face was bright with joy and thankfulness. It was in vain that his mother vociferated and protested against his marrying Doris, he would not listen to her any longer. "It is of no use your talking about the matter, mother," he said; "I am going to marry Doris, and no amount of talking will prevent me." His mother was miserable; now less than ever did she desire Doris to be her son’s wife. As she lay tossing about on her sleepless bed that night she almost wished Bernard had not received his very substantial legacy, as he was going to use some of it for such a purpose. In the early morning she dressed hurriedly, purposing to speak to her son on the subject before he started for Doncaster to catch the early express for London. Early as she was, however, Bernard had been earlier, for he had already left the house when she came downstairs. Mrs. Cameron hired a dogcart and ordered a man to drive her as fast as possible to Doncaster Station. But it happened that the dogcart collided with a waggon on the way. No one was hurt, but there was some confusion and considerable delay, and when at length Mrs. Cameron was able to walk into the station at Doncaster, it was to catch sight of the express fast disappearing in the distance. "I have lost my son!" said the unhappy woman to herself. "He will never speak to me again when he finds out about the letters I have suppressed. He will hate me--yes, he will hate me for doing it." The thought followed that she would deserve her fate, for if ever a parent provoked her son to wrath she had done so. *CHAPTER XXI.* *BERNARD SEEKS DORIS.* The course of true love never did run smooth. SHAKESPEARE. "Is Miss Anderson in?" "No, sir. She doesn’t live here now, sir," answered Mrs. Austin, in melancholy tones. "Not live here! Then where is she?" cried Bernard somewhat faintly, for in his surprise and consternation at not finding Doris there a return of the faintness that had before troubled him seemed imminent. The good woman caught hold of him by the arm. "Excuse me, Mr. Cameron, sir," she exclaimed. "You are ill. Come inside, sir. Come inside the house."