"That is nothing," he answered, almost impatiently. "I will wait till he does give his consent. Oh, Dorothy, the only thing I want to know is do you love me? If you can give me that assurance, nothing else in the world matters. Just say the little word. God surely meant us for each other, or I could not love you as I do." She dropped her eyes to the ground and remained motionless. He came a step nearer and took her hand in his. She did not resist, nor did she raise her eyes, but he felt that she was trembling from head to foot. "You are not angry with me?" he questioned, almost in a whisper. "No, no; I am not angry," she said, almost with a sob. "How could I be? You are a good man, and such love as yours humbles me." "Then you care for me just a little?" he said eagerly. "I cannot tell how much I care," she answered, and the tears came into her eyes and filled them to the brim. "But what does it matter? It must all end here and now." "Why end, Dorothy?" "Because my father would die before he gave me to you. You do not know him. You do not know how proud he is. Name and lineage are nothing to you, but they are everything to him." "But he would have married you to Lord Probus, a--a bloated brewer!" He spoke angrily and scornfully. "But he had been made a peer." "What does that matter if Nature made him a clown?" "Which Nature had not done. No, no; give him his due. He was commonplace, and not very well educated----" "And do these empty social distinctions count with you?" he questioned. "I sometimes hate them," she answered. "But what can I do? There is no escape. The laws of society are as inflexible as the laws of the Medes and Persians." "And you will fling love away as an offering to the prejudices of your father?" "Why do you tempt me? You must surely see how hard it is!" "Then you do love me!" he cried; and he caught her in his arms and kissed her. For a moment she struggled as if to free herself. Then her head dropped upon his shoulder. "Oh, Ralph," she whispered, "let me love you for one brief minute; then we must say farewell for ever!" CHAPTER XLI THE TABLES TURNED Three days later Ralph paused for a moment in front of a trim boarding-house or pension on the outskirts of Boulogne. It was here Sir John Hamblyn was "vegetating," as he told his friends--practising the strictest economy, and making a desperate and praiseworthy effort to recover somewhat his lost financial position. Ralph told no one what he intended to do. Ruth supposed that he had gone no farther than London, and that it was business connected with Great St. Goram Mine that called him there. Dorothy, having for a moment capitulated, had been making a brave but futile effort to forget, and trying to persuade herself that she had done a weak and foolish thing in admitting to Ralph Penlogan that she cared for him.