will move heaven and earth before that false woman darken the doors
of my father's house as mistress!"

All this was said with such rapidity that Owen had no time for the
words that thronged to his lips. "Father!" (he burst forth at
length) "Father, whosoever told you that Nest Pritchard was a harlot
told you a lie as false as hell! Ay! a lie as false as hell!" he
added, in a voice of thunder, while he advanced a step or two nearer
to the Squire. And then, in a lower tone, he said -

"She is as pure as your own wife; nay, God help me! as the dear,
precious mother who brought me forth, and then left me--with no
refuge in a mother's heart--to struggle on through life alone. I
tell you Nest is as pure as that dear, dead mother!"

"Fool--poor fool!"

At this moment the child--the little Owen--who had kept gazing from
one angry countenance to the other, and with earnest look, trying to
understand what had brought the fierce glare into the face where till
now he had read nothing but love, in some way attracted the Squire's
attention, and increased his wrath.

"Yes," he continued, "poor, weak fool that you are, hugging the child
of another as if it were your own offspring!" Owen involuntarily
caressed the affrighted child, and half smiled at the implication of
his father's words. This the Squire perceived, and raising his voice
to a scream of rage, he went on:

"I bid you, if you call yourself my son, to cast away that miserable,