The late Sir Charles had been a big, burly, broad-shouldered man, with a powerful clean-shaven face--the kind of overbearing, pushing personality which was bound to come up on top wherever men were congregated. And Sir Charles had massively pushed his way from poverty to affluence, from obscurity into notoriety, if not fame. Now his honors and wealth were in the hands of two people infinitely weaker than he had been. Lillian was but a delicate girl, solely bent upon marriage with an undesirable suitor, while Sir John had no desire to do anything with his new income and new title save to enjoy the goods which the gods had sent him so unexpectedly. He was by no means a strong man, being finical, self-indulgent, and quite feminine in his love for dress and luxury. Much smaller and slighter than his masterful brother, he was perfectly arrayed on all occasions in purple and fine linen; very self-possessed, very polite, and invariably quiet in his manner. He had several small talents, and indulged in painting, poetry, and music, producing specimens of each as weak and neatly finished as himself. He also collected china and stamps, old lace and jewels, which he loved for their color and glitter. Such a man was too fantastical to earn the respect of Lillian, who adored the strength, which showed itself in Dan. Consequently, she felt certain that she would be able to force him to consent to her desires. But in this, the girl, inexperienced in worldly matters and in human nature, reckoned without knowledge of Sir John's obstinacy, which was a singularly striking trait of the man's character. Like most weak people the new baronet loved to domineer, and, moreover, when his ease was at stake, he could be strong even to cruelty, since fear begets that quality as much as it fosters cowardice. Moon had removed Lillian and Mrs. Bolstreath to his new house in Mayfair, because it was not wise that the girl should remain at Hampstead, where everything served to remind her of the good father she had lost. Therefore, Sir John wished for no trouble to take place under his roof, as such--as he put it--would shatter his nerves. The mere fact that Lillian wished to marry young Halliday, and that Curberry wished to marry her, was a fruitful source of ills. It stands to Sir John's credit that he did not take the easiest method of getting rid of his niece by allowing her to become Mrs. Halliday. He had a conscience of some sort, and wished to carry out his late brother's desire that Lillian should become a peeress. So far as the girl's inclinations were concerned he cared little, since he looked upon her as a child who required guidance. And to guide her in the proper direction--that is, towards the altar in Curberry's company--Sir John put himself to considerable inconvenience, and acted honestly with the very best intentions. His egotism--the powerful egotism of a weak man--prevented him from seeing that Lillian was also a human being, and had her right to freedom of