"That reminds me," he began, pursing his lips. "I have been reflecting during your absence. Has it occurred to you that this act of yours is certain to react with grave consequences upon the very people you would--er--befriend? I am forced to remind you that the finger of scorn will not be pointed at you alone. Your daughter will not escape the--er--ignominy of being--ahem!--of being your daughter, in fact. Young Gwynne will find his position here very greatly affected by the--er--" "I quite understand all that, Andrew. I am not thinking of the present so much as I am considering the future. The past, so far as we all are concerned, is easily disposed of, but these two young people have a long life ahead of them. It is not my idea that they shall spend it here in this town,--or even in this State." "You mean you will urge them to leave Lafayette forever?" "Certainly." "But if I know Viola,--and I think I do,--she will refuse to desert you. As for Gwynne, he strikes me as a fellow who would not turn tail under fire." "In any case, Andrew, it will be for them to decide. Kenneth had already established himself as a lawyer back in the old home town. I shall urge him to return to that place with Viola as soon as they are married. His mother was a Blythe. There is no blot upon the name of Blythe. My daughter was born there. Her father was an honest, God-fearing, highly respected man. His name and his memory are untarnished. No man can say aught against the half of Kenneth that is Blythe, nor the half of Viola that is Carter. I should like the daughter of Owen Carter to go back and live among his people as the wife of the son of Laura Blythe, and to honourably bear the name that was denied me by a Gwynne." He looked at her shrewdly for a moment and then, as the full significance of her plan grew upon him, revealing in a flash the motive behind it, he exclaimed: "Well, by gosh, you certainly have done an almighty lot of calculating." "And why shouldn't I? She is my child. Is it likely that I would give myself the worst of everything without seeing to it that she gets the best of everything? No, my friend; you must not underrate my intelligence. I will speak plainly to you,--but in confidence. This is between you and me. There is no love lost between Kenneth Gwynne and me. He hates me and always will, no matter how hard he may try to overcome it. In a different way I hate him. We must not be where we can see each other. I am sorely afraid that the tender love he now has for Viola would fail to outlast the hatred he feels toward me. I leave you to imagine what that would mean to her. He has it in his power to give her a place among his people. He can force them to honour and respect her, and her children will be THEIR children. Do you see? Need I say more?" "You need say nothing more. I understand what you want, Mrs. Gwyn,--and I must say that you are in a sense justified. What is to become of young Gwynne's property here in this county?"