'Thus, if you marry him, I know that besides making noble settlements upon you he will--by a scrape of his pen--clear off nearly all the fatal encumbrances on our Scottish property; and I shall die, in old age--as I lived till ruin overtook me--Cheyne of Essilmont and that ilk.' 'And when you die, papa--' Alison began, in a broken voice. 'The estate becomes yours and his--it is all one.' ('And I have promised to wait for Bevil!' thought the girl in her heart.) 'In the hope that you might yet learn to love him--indeed upon the faith that you would do so yet'--said Sir Ranald, after a pause, 'he has made me, kindly and generously, heavy advances, which I have lost unwisely, and am totally unable to repay. How then am I to act? I can but look to you to listen to him patiently and, with some consideration for me, if he speaks of his love to you again, Alison.' To the latter it seemed that it was always himself, not her, that he considered in this proposed matrimonial bargain. The old man was very white; his thin lips were tremulous with earnestness; his china-blue eyes lowered beneath the glance of his daughter, and his naturally proud heart was wrung with pain at the admissions he was making. She remained silent. 'You can have no previous--no secret attachment, Alison?' said Sir Ranald, after another pause. The existence of one dearer to her than her own life was ignored in this question. What was she to reply? but reply she must, as he was eyeing her keenly, and even suspiciously. 'Do not be angry with me, dearest papa, but Lord Cadbury I never, never could learn to love,' she urged. 'And what about this fellow Goring?' he exclaimed, sternly, as he thought suddenly of many presents of flowers and music, with _Punch's_ and _Graphics_, &c. 'Goring,' she repeated, growing deadly pale, even to the lips. 'It cannot be that you are capable of such infernal folly and tomfoolery as to be wasting a thought on _him_?' 'He is different indeed,' said Alison, almost with anger, but added, 'believe me, papa, the man I love most in the world is yourself;' and she nestled her sweet face in his neck as she spoke. 'I have had my suspicions of Captain Goring for some time past; an empty-headed military dandy--handsome, I admit, but too handsome to have much in him,' resumed Sir Ranald, angrily--'a dangler, a detrimental, who, I have no doubt, in weak recommendation of himself could say, like the man in the play, "I have not much money, but what I have I spend upon myself."' 'Oh, papa!' exclaimed Alison, who was blushing deeply now. 'Pardon me if I wrong you, child,' said Sir Ranald; 'but in this most serious matter of your whole future life I cannot, and must not, be crossed.' Alison felt her heart sinking, for, after this pointed and sharp allusion to Bevil Goring, it was pretty plain that his visits to Chilcote, though supposed to be casual ones at stated intervals, would have to cease.