Emily Hotspur blushed up to her brows, and her cheeks and forehead were suffused with blood; but her mouth was set as firm as a rock, and then came that curl over her eye which her father had so dearly loved when she was a child, but which was now held by him to be so dangerous. She was not going to be talked out of her love in that way. Of course there had been things,--were things of which she knew nothing and desired to know nothing. Though she herself was as pure as the driven snow, she did not require to be told that there were impurities in the world. If it was meant to be insinuated that he was untrue to her, she simply disbelieved it. But what if he were? His untruth would not justify hers. And untruth was impossible to her. She loved him, and had told him so. Let him be ever so false, it was for her to bring him back to truth or to spend herself in the endeavour. Her father did not understand her at all when he talked to her after this fashion. But she said nothing. Her father was alluding to a matter on which she could say nothing. "If I could explain to you the way in which he has raised money for his daily needs, you would feel that he had degraded himself beneath your notice." "He cannot degrade himself beneath my notice;--not now. It is too late." "But, Emily,--do you mean to say then that, let you set your affections where you might,--however wrongly, on however base a subject,--your mamma and I ought to yield to them, merely because they are so set?" "He is your heir, Papa." "No; you are my heir. But I will not argue upon that. Grant that he were my heir; even though every acre that is mine must go to feed his wickedness the very moment that I die, would that be a reason for giving my child to him also? Do you think that you are no more to me than the acres, or the house, or the empty title? They are all nothing to my love for you." "Papa!" "I do not think that you have known it. Nay, darling, I have hardly known it myself. All other anxieties have ceased with me now that I have come to know what it really is to be anxious for you. Do you think that I would not abandon any consideration as to wealth or family for your happiness? It has come to that with me, Emily, that they are nothing to me now;--nothing. You are everything." "Dear Papa!" And now once again she leant upon his shoulder. "When I tell you of the young man's life, you will not listen to me. You regard it simply as groundless opposition." "No, Papa; not groundless,--only useless." "But am I not bound to see that my girl be not united to a man who would disgrace her, misuse her, drag her into the dirt,"--that idea of dragging George out was strong in Emily's mind as she listened to this,--"make her wretched and contemptible, and degrade her? Surely this is a father's duty; and my child should not turn from me, and almost refuse to speak to me, because I do it as best I can!" "I do not turn from you, Papa." "Has my darling been to me as she used to be?"