"Spare me—spare me, my dearest father!" cried Adelais, suddenly tearing herself from Rosamond's embrace, and falling on her knees before her sire: "I cannot marry that horrible man!" Mr. Torrens bit his lip almost till the blood came. "Listen to me, my dear father," continued the despairing girl, joining her hands together, while her cheeks were of marble whiteness, unanimated by a tinge of vital colouring,—"I am your daughter, and must obey you; but if you persist in saying, '_Receive that man as your husband_,' it is the same as if you were to utter the word, '_Die!_' Oh! no—you cannot—you will not sacrifice me in this cruel, cruel manner! What have I done to offend you, that my unhappiness has become your aim? Dearest father—relent—I implore you: on my knees, I beseech you to save me ere it be too late!" "Adelais," exclaimed Mr. Torrens, arming himself with that fatal sophistry which led him to believe that _he_ was the only judge of what was fitting for his daughter's welfare and happiness,—"Adelais, rise—I command you!" The miserable girl obeyed, but staggered with vacillating and irregular steps towards a chair, in which she sank, the agony of her soul now expelling all power of reflection from its seat. "I have gone too far to retreat—even if I were so disposed," continued Mr. Torrens. "Your happiness will be ensured by this union." "Her happiness, father!" said Rosamond, reproachfully. "Oh! no—never, never!" "Undutiful girl!" cried the venal parent: "do you league with your sister against me? I tell you that Adelais is about to become the wife of a young man who can give her an enviable position in society, and who at his uncle's death, will inherit an immense fortune. It is true that Mr. Curtis is somewhat rough in manner and incautious with his tongue; but perfection exists not in this world. To be brief, this marriage shall take place—it _must_—I dare not retract." "Father, one word more," exclaimed Adelais, suddenly recovering her power of thought and speech—those powers which anguish had for a few minutes completely subdued: "you are about to _sell_ your daughter to that man—he boasted to me that a few thousand pounds were the purchase-money—and hence my abrupt departure from the room." "The phrase was wrong—ill-chosen—coarse," ejaculated Mr. Torrens, evidently smarting under this announcement: "but we must not judge of words themselves—we must only look to the motives of him who utters them. Mr. Curtis is incapable of insulting you——" "Oh! you know not how abhorrent is the coarseness of his language!" cried Adelais, bursting into a torrent of tears. "You provoke me beyond the limits of human patience!" ejaculated Mr. Torrens, stamping his foot with rage. "But no more of this. You know my will—prepare to obey it. I ask you not to return to the drawing-room to-night;—to-morrow morning let me hope that you will show yourself a dutiful daughter towards a father who is anxious only to ensure your prosperity."