Anxious to make a good impression, he made a more than usually careful toilette in his own old and familiar room; but when he took his seat at table, the presence of Tunley and the servants, and also of John Balderstone, who had dropped in on business, and whom the baronet had pressed to remain, precluded all reference to his secret for a time, till the cloth was removed, the dessert laid, the decanters ranged in rank-entire before the host, and Tunley was told he might withdraw till rung for. 'And now for your story, Piers,' said the elder Montgomerie: 'the claret stands with you.' 'I must first drink to you, and congratulate you on your promotion,' replied his son. 'Yes, I am full colonel now, Piers, and may fairly hope to be a lieutenant-general some of these days. But now for the story,' he repeated uneasily; 'I suppose John Balderstone may hear it?' 'Of course, sir,' said Piers, coughing nervously, and twice draining his large green claret-glass to gain time, while he felt that his colour came and went, and his father's keen eyes were fixed upon him with equal scrutiny and affection. Young Piers glanced at the stately table, with its massive plate, glittering crystal, rich wines and luxuriant fruit, and thinking with joy of her who would be the presiding goddess there to-morrow, told his narrative in a manly and honest manner, yet not without some trepidation of tone, while his father sat bolt upright in his chair, staring at him with a face expressive of rage, incredulity, and absolute grief, as if he felt that his only son and heir had gone mad. Worthy John Balderstone also looked scared and bewildered. 'And now, sir,' continued the son, despite the terrible frown that deepened on his father's face, 'I have told you all, except my darling's name.' 'Her name be----! what is her name to me? Zounds, sir! I don't want to hear it--the daughter of a beggarly painter--an adventuress--to become in time Lady Montgomerie of Eaglescraig! No, sir, no; damme, I'll break the entail; I'll--I'll----' Sir Piers for a few moments was literally choking with rage. 'That my wife is poor and nameless, according to your mode of thinking, father, is no fault of hers; her beauty is great, her goodness and accomplishments are rarely surpassed, and surely you will forgive us, we love each other so?' urged young Piers; and as he spoke his heart was in his voice, and his very soul seemed welling out of his fine dark eyes. 'May the moment that I forgive you and her be my last on earth!' thundered Sir Piers, smiting the table with his clenched hand; 'forgive you--not if I lived for a thousand years! Away--away! quit my sight and never let me see your face again!' And literally he began to tutor himself to hate his son as much as he had idolised him before.