'Augusta, this is supreme folly.'

The sobs went on for some minutes longer unchecked. I heard his step
sounding heavily as he walked up and down the room.

'I am waiting to hear the meaning of all this,' he said by and by.
'I suppose there is some meaning.'

'O Angus, is it so easy for you to forget the past?'

'It was forgotten long ago,' he answered, 'by both of us, I should
think. When my mother bribed you to leave Ilfracombe, you bartered
my love and my happiness for the petty price she was able to pay. I
was a weak fool in those days, and I took the business to heart
bitterly enough, God knows; but the lesson was a useful one, and it
served its turn. I have never trusted myself to love any woman since
that day, till I met the pure young creature who is to be my wife.
Her truth is above all doubt; she will not sell her birthright for a
mess of pottage.'

'The mess of pottage was not for me, Angus. It was my father's
bargain, not mine. I was told that you had done with me--that you had
never meant to marry me. Yes, Angus, your mother told me that with
her own lips--told me that she interfered to save me from misery and
dishonour. And then I was hurried off to a cheap French convent, to
learn to provide for myself. A couple of years' schooling was the
price I received for my broken heart. That was what your mother
called making me a lady. I think I should have gone mad in those two
dreary years, if it had not been for my passionate love of music. I