"Father!" she interrupted, "never mention this thing again! Thee can
neither give me away, nor sell me; though I am a woman, I belong to
myself. Thee knows I'm not hasty in anything. It was a long time before
I rightly knew my own heart; but when I did know it and found that it
had chosen truly, I gave it freely, and it is gone from me forever!"

"Martha, Martha!" cried Dr. Deane, starting from his seat, "what does
all this mean?"

"It means something which it is thy right to know, and therefore I have
made up my mind to tell thee, even at the risk of incurring thy lasting
displeasure. It means that I have followed the guidance of my own heart
and bestowed it on a man a thousand times better and nobler than Alfred
Barton ever was, and, if the Lord spares us to each other, I shall one
day be his wife!"

The Doctor glared at his daughter in speechless amazement. But she met
his gaze steadily, although her face grew a shade paler, and the
expression of the pain she could not entirely suppress, with the
knowledge of the struggle before her, trembled a little about the
corners of her lips.

"Who is this man?" he asked.

"Gilbert Potter."

Dr. Deane's pipe dropped from his hand and smashed upon the iron hearth.

"Martha Deane!" he cried. "Does the d---- _what_ possesses thee? Wasn't
it enough that thee should drive away the man I had picked out for thee,