Calmly, but with trembling lips, Ronald gave him every
particular.

"Yes, the marriage is legal enough," said the master of
Earlescourt. "You had to choose between duty, honor, home,
position--and Dora Thorne. You preferred Dora; you must leave
the rest."

"Father, you will forgive me," cried Ronald. "I am your only
son."

"Yes," said Lord Earle, drearily, "you are my only son. Heaven
grant no other child may pierce his father's heart as you have
done mine! Years ago, Ronald, my life was blighted--my hopes,
wishes, ambitions, and plans all melted; they lived again in you.
I longed with wicked impatience for the time when you should
carry out my dreams, and add fresh luster to a grand old name. I
have lived in your life; and now, for the sake of a simple,
pretty, foolish girl, you have forsaken me--you have
deliberately trampled upon every hope that I had."

"Let me atone for it," cried Ronald. "I never thought of these
things."

"You can not atone," said Lord Earle, gravely. "I can never
trust you again. From this time forth I have no son. My heir
you must be when the life you have darkened ends. My son is dead
to me."

There was no anger in the stern, grave face turned toward the