Then the gentlemen got up to take leave. Miss Seabright also arose, to dismiss them; but when she saw that Lionel Hardcastle was about to bow the others out with the purpose of remaining himself, she courteously advanced, and invited them all to remain and dine. A quick telegraphic look from Lionel Hardcastle to his father arrested the old gentleman’s intention of accepting, so that, excusing himself, he took leave and withdrew, followed by the lawyer. Miss Seabright also followed, with the intention of leaving the library, but Lionel Hardcastle intercepted her purpose by bowing the gentlemen out, and closing the door after them. Miss Seabright retreated to the library table, where she stood erect, with one hand resting upon the table, and with her fiery eyes concentrating all their rays into a burning focus in the gaze she fixed upon his face. Yet he winced not; but advancing calmly toward her, said: “That attitude and gaze, Miss Seabright, would remind me that my authority as your guardian ceases from this hour.” “Without referring to that circumstance, Mr. Hardcastle, I would only plead excessive weariness of this room, and to be excused for the remainder of the day.” “You do not look in the least fatigued; and just now you even invited my father and your lawyer to remain and dine with you.” “And extended the same invitation to yourself; which I now repeat. Will you now accept it, and excuse me for an hour’s repose until dinner time?” she asked calmly—calmly, yet he could see by those dark eyes, which blazed and darkened under their heavy lids like a flashing and expiring flame, that under that quiet exterior, volcanic passion stirred, threatening every instant to break out in destroying fury, and only restrained by the force of her own will and the power of her own moral sense. He folded his arms, and gazed on her; his look was resolved, his face was ashen pale, all the strength and fire of his nature seemed concentrated and burning in his eyes, and in the gaze he fixed upon her face. He answered, slowly, “No, Miss Seabright; there is no repose for me, shall be none for you, until you hear me. I will not leave this room, nor suffer you to leave it, until you hear me. Hitherto you have disregarded your benefactor’s expressed will and wishes, contemned my claims, despised my love.” “Your ‘love’? Is yours the language or the deportment of love?” she asked, in the deep, stern tone of suppressed indignation.