"Oh, sir, don't call me by that ugly name. Let it be plain Dorothy." "Well then, Dorothy, now there is peace between us, sit down and tell me who first discovered that you had a fine voice." "Lord Wilton." "Lord Wilton!" Mr. Fitzmorris almost started to his feet. "He met me one day upon the heath, and told me that he had learned from Mrs. Martin that I had a good voice, and asked me to sing to him." "And you complied with the request?" "Certainly." "Don't you think that it was a strange request for a nobleman to make to a poor country girl? Do you know, Dorothy, what Lord Wilton is?" "Yes, Mr. Fitzmorris, the best friend I ever had in the world." "Dorothy, the friendship of such men is enmity to God. Lord Wilton is a man of the world. A man without religion, who is haunted continually by the stings of conscience. Such a man rarely seeks the acquaintance of a young girl beneath him in rank, for any good purpose." "Ah, you wrong him! indeed you do," cried Dorothy. "He wishes me to be good and happy, and to look upon him as a friend and father; and I love him as such. He placed me under Mrs. Martin's care, that I might be instructed to help her in the Sunday-school. Would a bad man have done that? For Mrs. Martin and her husband are among the excellent of the earth!" "A great change must have come over him. When I last saw him, but that is some years ago, he was all that I have represented him." Mr. Fitzmorris walked to the window, and stood with folded arms, apparently in deep thought. There had never been much intimacy between his branch of the family and Lord Wilton's, though they were first cousins. Their mutual uncle had left an immense fortune to the Earl, which Gerard's father thought should have been equally divided. He did not consider that he had been fairly treated in the matter, and accused the Earl of having undermined him in the good graces of the titled millionaire. These family quarrels are very bitter, and their pernicious effects are often traceable through several generations. It was not of this great family disappointment that General Fitzmorris was thinking, for he was very indifferent about wealth, only regarding it as a useful means of doing good. He was mentally glancing over several passages in the Earl's life, in which his conduct had been severely censured by the public, when the seduction and subsequent suicide of a beautiful girl adopted by his mother, had formed the theme of every tongue. And who was this beautiful country girl, this Dorothy Chance, that he should take such an interest in her education. He was afraid the old leaven was again at work, and he was determined, if possible, to frustrate his designs. "Is your father one of my parishioners, Dorothy?" he said, again addressing her. "Yes, sir, my adopted father." "Are you an orphan?"