worse than fruitless."

"And you knew this, and yet dared to persist in your folly?"

"I did. Because I loved the young lady; and felt that I never could be
happy without her."

"And with her I am determined that you never shall be happy. It was my
intention, at my decease, to have bequeathed to you the manor of Worden,
with its fine old hall, and the noble woods by which it is surrounded;
but as you mean to please yourself in the choice of a wife, I shall take
the same privilege in the choice of my heirs. Here you have no longer a
home. You may leave the Hall to-morrow, and earn a fortune for yourself
and your bride. You have ceased to be my son. I never wish to see your
face again."

Mark Hurdlestone, who had listened most attentively to the conversation,
now advanced from the recess of the window, and, pretending to take his
brother's part, began to expostulate with his father on the violence of
his proceedings; begging him to check his indignation, and allow his
brother time to perceive his error. "He could not," he said, "excuse his
brother's conduct. His want of duty and respect to such an excellent
parent he considered perfectly inexcusable, and most ungrateful, after
the many bills he had paid for him, and the great expense he had been
to the family during his continental tour. But then he hoped that his
father would have compassion upon his youth, and take into account the
natural weakness of his intellect, which latter defect made him an easy
dupe to artful people."

Algernon's mind was too much overwhelmed with his misfortune to notice