"Ah, my love," said George somewhat sadly. "I can only give you my heart. Money and position must come later. But if we both obey the inscription and bear the cross we shall win the crown of success in the end. Look how the gems flash, Lesbia--an earnest of the future." While they were both admiring the cross, a tall, lean man, perfectly dressed in a Bond Street kit, came softly down the grassy path. He looked like a gentleman, and also like a hawk, and his pale eyes wandered from one bent head to the other until they dropped to the flash of the jewelled cross, which glittered on Walker's palm. Then the newcomer started nervously, and took a step nearer to observe. Lesbia and her lover looked up as the shadow of the man fell across them, and in the movement they made, the cross fell on the grass. "Oh, father, how you startled us," cried the girl, springing to her feet. Mr. Walter Hale did not reply. His eyes were still on the purple stones of the cross, and when his daughter stooped to pick it up, he twitched his fingers as though anxious to take it from her. "Where did you get that?" he demanded abruptly and harshly. "Bridget gave it to me, and I have given it to George," she said, handing the ornament to her lover. "It belonged to my mother." "It did," said Hale sharply, "and therefore must not pass out of the family." "It won't," said Lesbia cheerfully; "George is to be my husband." Mr. Hale frowned. "You have yet to gain my permission," he said in dry tones. "Meanwhile, Mr. Walker, give me back the cross." "No!" said George, who did not like the tone of his future father-in-law and could be obstinate when necessary. "Lesbia gave it to me, and I intend to keep it." "Lesbia had no right to give it to you," cried Hale, his voice rising, and he extended his hand to take his desire. But Walker was too quick for him and dexterously swerving, shot the cross into his pocket. "It is Lesbia's first present to me," said he, excusing his obstinacy. "She has no right to make you presents," foamed the other, who had now entirely lost his temper. "She has the right of a lover," retorted George coolly. "There can be no question of love between you and my daughter." The girl moved to her lover's side, very pale and very defiant. "That is for me to decide," she said coldly, but with determination. "You go against your father, Lesbia?" "For the first time in my life. And why not, when the matter is so important?" Hale bit his lips and tried to stare her down: but as her eyes did not drop before his own he was the first to give way, and did so with inward rage. With an impatient shrug he wheeled to face young Walker. The two presented the striking contrast of untainted youth and artificial age too much versed in the evils of life. And youth had the advantage, for--as in the case of Lesbia--the older man tried to dominate without success. He was forced to take refuge in idle threats.