And he did not love her! His love was given to Daisy Banks! Oh, no, she told herself; it was not true--it was some mistake; and with her breath coming in sobs, and her heart beating rapidly, she clung to her aunt's hand as they approached. Mrs Glaire stopped short when they reached the tree, and speaking in a very cold, contemptuous way, she raised her one hand at liberty, and pointing in the direction in which one of the two actors in the little comedy had fled, she said-- "Is this my son Richard?" "No," said Dick, with a forced laugh, and with a display of effrontery far from in keeping with his abject looks, "No--that was Daisy Banks." "I say, is this my son?" exclaimed Mrs Glaire, speaking in the same cold measured way. "I suppose so," said Dick, contemptuously. "There, don't make a bother out here in the wood;" and he half-turned away to gaze up towards where a thrush was loudly singing its farewell to the day. "I say is this my son?" reiterated Mrs Glaire, "who promised me upon his word of honour as a gentleman that he would see Daisy Banks no more." "Oh aunt," cried Eve, with almost a shriek of pain, as these words were to her like the lifting of a veil, "did you know of this?" "Yes," said Mrs Glaire, sternly, "I knew, my child, that he was playing false to you, and that he was often seeing this miserable girl." "There, let her alone," said Richard, defiantly. "I knew it, Eve," continued Mrs Glaire, speaking with suppressed anger; "but on my remonstrating, he promised me that it should all be at an end, and for the time, like a weak, foolish mother, I believed in his honour as a gentleman, and that he would keep his word to me and be faithful to you. You see how he keeps his word." "There, that'll do," cried Richard, defiantly. "I'm not going to be bullied. I like the girl, and shall marry her if I choose." "Liar! Coward!" exclaimed Mrs Glaire. "You would not marry her: but break the miserable girl's heart, as you would break that of your cousin, if I would stand by and see you do the wrong." "Oh no, no, no, aunt--aunt--pray don't," sobbed Eve, interposing. "You are hard upon dear Dick, aunt. He does not care for her: it is some mistake. He cannot care for her. It is Daisy's doing; the wicked girl has led him away. Dick, dear Dick, tell me, tell me, you don't love her, that--that--Oh, Dick, it can't--it can't be true." She threw herself sobbing on his breast, but with a degree of force, hardly to be expected from her, Mrs Glaire drew Eve away and stood between them. "No," she exclaimed, "he shall not touch you; he shall never touch you again till this disgrace is wiped away, and he has shown himself in some way worthy of your love; for I will not stand by and see your future blasted by the action of a son who has proved himself a scoundrel."