"Lady Dora," he said, in his deep emphatic voice, "I have yet to learn in how much I, the _legitimate_ son of Tremenhere of the manor, am beneath Miss Dalzell of Gatestone, or those whom she calls kindred. True, she is now but an artist's wife; but that artist will make his name one to be respected by all;--he is working for a great end and purpose. Rely upon it, till that purpose be accomplished, his wife, the solace of all his best, happiest hours, will only keep her smiles to cheer his home, and support him in many trials; she will not, either from choice or necessity, lavish them on a cold, heartless society. _There_, his path of toil and bitterness, full often, shall be alone. As a flawless gem Minnie is to me; she needs no costly setting to prove her worth. It is not in a world like yours--like mine--she shall be named, to have one breath of slander dim her brightness now; but as surely as you and I stand face to face this day, so surely shall the day of her triumph come, and emanating from behind the cloud which now makes me so deep a shadow over your path." His face worked with the energy of his soul's anguish, at the thought even of his pure Minnie being dragged forth a target for the world's scorn, and for his sake, who would gladly shed his life's blood to save her one pang. He felt choking at the thought. "So," he continued, with bitter irony, "you would have me as a tame lion in a cage, to caress through the bars in all security; but the moment it should dare dream of liberty, and, bursting its bonds, stand among you free, for every arm to be raised against it--every hand to hold a weapon to drive it back to slavery! I, Lady Dora, will be none such. I am proud as yourself--proud of my name, _even as it is_; and I will yet make it sound, with Fame's trumpet to herald it, unless the powers of hell combine against me, and _then_ I will show Minnie to the world--not before!" "Pardon me," she cried, looking very pale--her better genius had triumphed; "pray, pardon me, Mr. Tremenhere; I did not mean to pain you--I----" she was almost in tears. "Lady Dora," he sternly said, "you and I understand each other. You have a noble heart; let not the blighting world profane it with its heartless wisdom. _Your_ pride is the upas poison, withering all it touches: _mine_ is spirit's right, riding on the winds which shall blast my enemies, and uproot them like trees in a whirlwind,--'tis the pride of love, too, which forbids my breathing the name of my beloved Minnie any where, until I can proclaim her with a voice no one can still, as Tremenhere's wife should be proclaimed! Rest satisfied," he contemptuously added; "your pride will not be shaken from its pedestal by the artist's wife!" He turned coldly away. "Mr. Tremenhere--Miles Tremenhere!" she whispered anxiously, half rising; but he passed forward without hesitating, and joined the group at the fire.