The old man let the key fall--he straightened himself. His voice shook with anger. "It is well. It is as I could have wished it. I take him at his word. Never. Never--let me say it again. Never, and once again, never; and each never shuts a door on him for all time. Never shall he have my forgiveness. Never shall he inherit an acre or a pound of mine. Never will I speak to him another word. Nay, were he dying, I would not go to see him; could I by a word save his life, I would not do it. Go tell him that. Now go--and Elizabeth, hold the candle. I will open the door; go in before me to my room; I'll lock the door on us both. Now all is plain. The wind has cleared away the mists, and we must settle all between us this night, with the way open before us." He managed to unfasten the door, and he made his daughter pass in, carrying the light. Then he turned the key in the lock. The little table was strewn with deeds and papers and books. Bessie cast a glance at it, and saw no spot on which she could set the candle. She therefore held it in her hand, standing before her father, who threw himself into his chair. She was pale, composed, and resolved. He could have nothing further to urge than what had been urged already, and she had her answer to that. The candle was short, it had swaled down into the tray, and could not burn for more than ten minutes. "Elizabeth," said her father, "I shall not repeat what has been said already. I have told you what my wishes, what my commands are. You can see in Anthony what follows on the rebellion of a child against the father. Let me see in you that obedience which leads to happiness as surely as his disobedience has brought him to misery. But I have said all this before, and I will not now repeat it. There are further considerations which make me desire that you should take Anthony Crymes without delay." He drew a long breath, and vainly endeavoured to conceal his agitation. "I bought this place--Hall--where my forefathers have been as tenants for many generations; I bought it, but I had not sufficient money at command, so I mortgaged the estate, and borrowed the money to pay for it. Then I thought soon and easily to have paid off the debt. The mortgagee did not press; but having Hall as mine own was, I found, another thing to having Hall as a tenant. My position was changed, and with this change came increased expenditure. Anthony cost much money, he was of no use in the farm, and he threw about money as he liked. But not so only. I rebuilt nearly the whole of the house; I might have spent this money in paying off the mortgage, or in reducing it, but instead of that I rebuilt and enlarged the house. I thought that my new position required it, and the old farmhouse was small and inconvenient, and ill-suited to my new position. But I had no fear. The mortgagee did not require the money. Then of late we have had bad times, and I have had the drag of the mortgage on me. A little while ago I had notice