‘I am grieved enough to say so,’ repeated Louis; ’but, as he puts it, I do not see how Mary can refuse to obey him.’

‘I declare, Fitzjocelyn,’ exclaimed his father, with some anger, ’any one who takes the trouble, may talk you into anything imaginable!’

‘Not into believing her wrong.’

‘I did not think you so weak!’ continued his father.  ’It is the very case where a woman’s exaggerated notions of right may be wrought on to do her infinite harm!  They become quite ridiculous without some one to show that such things may be carried too far!  I must say, I did expect strength of mind and common sense for your own interest.  I esteem it a mere matter of duty to put an end to such nonsense.’

‘My dear father,’ said Louis, ’it was Mary and her mother who first taught me my own obligations.  I should never dare to interfere with any one’s filial duty—­above all, where my own happiness is so deeply concerned.’

’Yours!  I am not talking of yours.  What is to become of Mary with such a man as that? and this Spanish woman, who, if she does not deserve all that has been said of her, no doubt soon will?—­no education, no principles, breaking out of her convent!  And you let yourself be drawn into calling it Mary’s duty to run into such company as that!  You are not fit to protect her.’

’From all I have heard of Mr. Ponsonby, I am convinced he has too much regard for his daughter to summon her into any improper society.  I do not hear that he has been to blame as a father.  I wish I could see it as you do; but not only do I know that Mary could not have an instant’s peace under the sense of his displeasure, but it seems to me that this is one of the express commands which could not be disobeyed without setting aside the law of Heaven.  If I gave my voice against it, I should fear to bring on us a curse, and not a blessing.’

’Fitzjocelyn, I always knew how it would be if you took to being one of those very good people.  Nothing is so weak, and yet so unmanageable.  Any rational being would look on it as a duty to rescue her from such a man as that; but that is too ordinary a virtue for you.  You must go higher.’

Louis made no answer.  Never had his father pained him so much, and he could ill brook additional suffering.

‘However,’ said the Earl, recovering, ’I shall see her.  I shall put the matter in a just light.  She is a sensible girl, and will understand me when she has recovered the shock.  On one head I shall give warning.  She must choose between us and her father.  If she persist in going out to join this establishment, I will have your engagement given up.’

‘Father! father! you would not be so cruel!’

’I know what I am saying.  Am I to allow you to be encumbered all the time she is on the other side of the world, waiting Ponsonby’s pleasure, to come home at last, in ten or fifteen years’ time, worried and fretted to death, like her poor mother?  No, Louis, it must be now or never.’