“Look at me, mistress!” he said, placing his hands upon the arms of his chair, bending forward and gazing on her with fixed, keen eyes, that burned like fire beneath the pent roof of his shaggy iron-gray brows.

Corona looked up at him.

“Do you know, madam, that in rejecting the hand of the Duke of Cumbervale you have offered me an unpardonable affront?”

“No, grandfather, I did not know it; and certainly I never meant—­never could possibly have meant—­to affront you,” said Corona, deprecatingly.  “If I have been so unhappy as to disappoint your wishes, I am very sorry, my dear grandfather, but—­”

He harshly interrupted her.

“Do not you dare to call me grandfather, either now or ever again!  I disclaim forever that relationship, and all relationship with the false, flirting, coquettish, unprincipled creature that you are!  Your late suitor may forgive your treachery to him, beguiling him by your once pretended preference to pass by all eligible matches and cross the ocean for your sake!  Yes; he may forgive you, because he is a fool (being a duke)!  But as for me—­I will never pardon the outrageous affront you have put upon me, in rejecting the man of my choice!  Never, as long as I live, so help me—­”

“Oh!—­oh, grandfather!” cried Corona, arresting his half-sworn oath, “don’t say that!  I am sorry to have crossed your will in this matter, or in any way; but, oh, my dear grandfather—­”

“Stop there!” vociferated the Iron King, with a stamp.  “I am no grandfather of yours!  How dare you insult me with the name when I have forbidden you to do so?”

“I beg your pardon, sir.  It was a mere slip of the tongue.  I spoke impulsively.  I had forgotten your prohibition.  I shall not certainly offend in that way again,” said Corona, quietly.

“You had better not!”

“I was about to say, when you interrupted me,” resumed Cora, earnestly, “that I am grieved to have been compelled to disappoint you by rejecting the Duke of Cumbervale; but, sir, I could not do otherwise.  I could not accept a man whom I could not love.  To have done so would have been a great sin.  Surely, sir, you must know it would have been a sin,” pleaded Corona.

“Stuff and nonsense!” roared the Iron King.  “Don’t dare to talk such sentimental rubbish to me!  You can’t love him, can’t you?  Tell that to an idiot, not to me!  When we were in London, two or three years ago, you loved him so well that you were ready to break your engagement with your betrothed husband, Regulas Rothsay, in order to marry this duke.  Yes; and you would certainly have done so if I had not put a stop to the affair by having an explanation with the suitor, telling him of your prior engagement, and also of your want of fortune, and bringing you back home to your forgotten duties.”

“Oh, sir, I deserve all your reproaches for that forgetfulness.  I was very wrong then,” said Cora, with a sigh.