At this reflection Richard Cramer entered the room, and the first words he uttered seemed to promise a realization of Dr. Macrae's desire. "Well, sir," he said, as he took the chair Dr. Macrae indicated, "well, sir, I am going with the Enniskillen Dragoons to India next week, but our route is far north, and so we shall doubtless escape the cholera." "But not the warlike native tribes?" "We are going to turn them into peaceable tribes." "Not an easy task." "It will be done." "Yes--finally." "Sir, you must know that I have loved your daughter ever since I first saw her. I ask your permission to make her my wife." Dr. Macrae remained silent. "I cannot bear the idea of waiting for nearly two years." "You will be compelled to wait." "Sir?" "It is my will that you wait." "Marion wishes to go with me." "Have you asked her to go with you?" "Not definitely, but----" "Ah! I thought so." "I will ask her to go with me now, and she will go." "She will not. I forbid it. She will be her own mistress in twenty months. She can marry you then--if she wishes. But I advise you to give her up." "Never! Until Marion gives me up I will never give Marion up. I swear it!" "She is my daughter for twenty months longer. Time is sure to bring changes. Even now she would not leave me to go with you to India. You must be mad to imagine such a thing." "I am in love. I trust her love by my own. She will do as I wish." "She will keep faith with her father. You shall see that," and he rose, threw open the door of the room, and called imperatively, "_Marion!_" "Yes, Father," was the ready answer. "Do you want me?" "Yes. Come quickly." Lord Cramer had followed him into the hall, and when Dr. Macrae perceived this some innate, in-born sense of courtesy due the stranger within his gate caused him to return at once to his study. In two or three minutes Cramer followed. He had Marion's hand in his, and Mrs. Caird was but a few steps behind. She entered the room with them, and Dr. Macrae looked at her not very pleasantly. "I did not call you, Jessy," he said. "I am aware of that fact, Ian," she answered. "I called myself." "We are not requiring your presence." "I was never more needed. What for are you wanting Marion?" "You can stay and hear, if you wish." Then Dr. Macrae took the chair at his desk, and Marion and Lord Cramer stood before him. Their hands were still clasped, and unconsciously Marion leaned slightly toward her lover. The transfiguration of love suffused her face, and she stood smiling in all its glory. Dr. Macrae was struck afresh by a beauty he had hitherto regarded too little. He saw in her at this hour the noblest type of Celtic loveliness--its winning face, splendid form, rich coloring, all vivified by a well-cultivated intellect, and made charming and winsome by childlike confidence and simplicity. For a moment his heart swelled with pride as the sense of his fatherhood flashed over him.