At this moment the Earl appeared standing beside them in the
moonlight. His stern face was distorted with indignation.

"So!" he said, turning to Ronald, "it appears that you have
chosen!"

"I have," said Ronald with hauteur.

"You prefer to marry this penniless girl rather than the
heiress I have selected for you."

Gertrude looked from father to son in amazement.

"Yes," said Ronald.

"Be it so," said the Earl, draining a dipper of gin which he
carried, and resuming his calm. "Then I disinherit you.
Leave this place, and never return to it."

"Come, Gertrude," said Ronald tenderly, "let us flee together."

Gertrude stood before them. The rose had fallen from her head.
The lace had fallen from her ear and the bagstring had come
undone from her waist. Her newspapers were crumpled beyond
recognition. But dishevelled and illegible as she was, she was
still mistress of herself.

"Never," she said firmly. "Ronald, you shall never make this
sacrifice for me." Then to the Earl, in tones of ice, "There is