Would Pauline ever submit to such control? Her pale, grand face rose before him, the haughty lips, the proud, calm eyes--the man who mastered her, who brought her mind into subjection, would indeed be a superior being. For the first time a doubt crossed Sir Oswald's mind as to whether she would ever recognize that superior being in Captain Langton. He knew that there were depths in the girl's nature beyond his own reach. It was not all pride, all defiance--there were genius, poetry, originality, grandeur of intellect, and greatness of heart before which the baronet knew that he stood in hopeless, helpless awe. Lady Hampton laid her hand on his arm. "Do not despond, old friend," she said. "I understand you. I should feel like you. I should dread to leave the inheritance of my fathers in such dangerous hands. But, Sir Oswald, why despond? Why not marry?" The baronet started. "Marry!" he repeated. "Why, I have never thought of such a thing." "Think of it now," counseled the lady, laughingly; "you will find the advice most excellent. Instead of tormenting yourself about an ill-conditioned girl, who delights in defying you, you can have an amiable, accomplished, elegant, and gentle wife to rule your household and attend to your comfort--you might have a son of your own to succeed you, and Darrell Court might yet remain in the hands of the Darrells." "But, my dear Lady Hampton, where should I find such a wife? I am no longer young--who would marry me?" "Any sensible girl in England. Take my advice, Sir Oswald. Let us have a Lady Darrell, and not an ill-trained girl who will delight in setting the world at defiance. Indeed, I consider that marriage is a duty which you owe to society and to your race." "I have never thought of it. I have always considered myself as having, so to speak, finished with life." "You have made a great mistake, but it is one that fortunately can be remedied." Lady Hampton rose from her seat, and walked a few steps forward. "I have put his thoughts in the right groove," she mused; "but I ought to say a word about Elinor." She turned to him again. "You ask me who would marry you. Why, Sir Oswald, in England there are hundreds of girls, well-bred, elegant, graceful, gentle, like my niece, who would ask nothing better from fortune than a husband like yourself." She saw her words take effect. She had turned his thoughts and ideas in the right direction at last. "Shall we go and look after our truants?" she asked, suavely. And they walked together down the path where Pauline had so indignantly gathered the broken lily. As though unconsciously, Lady Hampton began to speak of her niece. "I have adopted Elinor entirely," she said--"indeed there was no other course for me to pursue. Her mother was my youngest sister; she has been dead many years. Elinor has been living with her father, but he has just secured a government appointment abroad, and I asked him to give his daughter to me."