"At a very early day," answered the young man. "The twenty-fourth of December is her choice." "Shameful!" ejaculated the banker. "She is determined to push her power to the utmost. And you permitted it?" "Naming the day is the lady's prerogative, you know, sir," said Lance, bitterly. "I confess I did hint for a rather longer extension of my bachelor freedom; but she asserted that the peculiar circumstances attending our engagement would not admit of farther delay." "She was afraid you might possibly escape her toils if you were afforded a longer time in which to reflect on your position," asserted Mr. Lawrence. "Well, Lance, if you are determined to sacrifice yourself for a scruple of overstrained chivalry I need not urge you further. It would be useless. I am tempted to drive the deceitful jade forth from the shelter of my roof within the hour." "Oh, pray do not," said Lance, earnestly. "It would only precipitate the evil day of our union. She would claim my protection immediately then." "It is very probable she would. For your sake, then, Lance, I will let her remain, and even allow her marriage to take place in my house; but I can never like or respect her again, even as your wife." "I will leave you to make the truth known to Ada," continued Lancelot, bitterly; "do not allow her to believe that I am faithless to Lily's precious memory, Mr. Lawrence." "I will tell her the whole truth," answered Mr. Lawrence, deeply moved. Lance went away, and Mr. Lawrence hastened to communicate the astonishing news to Ada, who was confined to her sofa with her sprained ankle. "Papa, I am not so surprised as you expect me to be," said the young girl, frankly. "I have long seen that Mrs. Vance was using every art in her power to win poor Lance. Indeed, I incurred her everlasting displeasure some time ago by boldly charging her with it. She did not deny it, but retaliated by saying that I wanted him myself. She seized upon the occurrence of last night as a pretext for winning what she has long been angling for--the hand of our poor, unhappy Lance." "He will live to repent his boyish notion of chivalry, I am sure," he added; changing the subject abruptly, "I called on young Philip St. John to-day, and thanked him for his friendliness to you last night, and invited him to dinner. I had to show him some attention, you know," he said, observing the flush that colored Ada's cheek so suddenly. "You do not object, I hope?" "Oh, no, no," she murmured; "he was exceedingly kind." "He is a very superior young man," said the banker, cordially. "Well born, wealthy, and a lawyer by profession. He is a particular friend of Lance, which in itself is a recommendation to any young man," continued Mr. Lawrence, in whose eyes Lancelot Darling appeared the _beau ideal_ of human perfection.