"
"Even so, sir--Miss Fairleigh not only declined, but I greatly fear
she is going to the ball against her parents' wishes. If this be so, I
must try to conquer this love. The girl who sets at naught the will of
her kind, loving parents--acting secretly against their wishes--would
not, I am sure, prove a good wife."
"Well spoken, my son. How about Miss Bland?"
"Of course she is going. We are to call for her."
"A good girl--resigning pleasure to duty. A rare good girl."
"Apparently, so, sir; but, indeed, I am impressed with the idea that
there is something hidden about her. She does not seem natural,"
replied David.
Father and son had just arrived at Mr. Fairleigh's when the door
opened to admit a middle-aged, poorly-clad woman. Showing them into
the drawing-room, the servant closed the door. Very soon after seating
themselves they heard the voice of Miss Bland in a very excited tone.
"My brother! How dare you ask me of him?"
"I dare for my child's sake. She is ill--perhaps dying."
"What is that to him or me? I told you and her I would have nothing
more to do with either, since her name became so shamefully connected
with my brother's. Will you be kind enough to relieve me of your
presence?"
"My daughter is as pure as you.
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