Drake looked straight before him. Had this offer been made a month

before he would have accepted it without a moment's hesitation, for he

had thought himself in love with Luce, and, more important, he had

thought that she had cared for him. But now all was changed. He knew

that if a hundred thousand a year were dependent upon marrying Luce he

couldn't accept it.

The earl stared at him, and filled another glass with the port, which

was a poison to him.

"Eh? What the devil do you mean? I say that if you'll settle down and

marry Luce I will provide a suitable income for you. What the blazes are

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you hesitating about? Why--confound it!--aren't you satisfied? You don't

want to be told that I'm not bound to give you a penny!"

The old man's handsome face was growing red, and his eyes were beginning

to glitter; the port was doing its fell work.

"I know," said Drake, with a quietude which only made his uncle more

angry, "and I'm very much obliged to you. I know what ten thousand a

year means; but I'm afraid I can't fulfill the conditions."

"What the devil do you mean?" demanded the earl.

Drake smoked in silence for a moment or two. Most men would have said at

once that Lady Lucille Turfleigh had, on his change of prospects, jilted

him; but Drake had some old-world notions of honor in respect to women,

and he could not give Lady Luce away.

"I'm afraid I can't marry Luce," he said. "Our engagement is broken

off."

The earl swore a good old Tory oath.

"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" he said. "One of the nicest

girls I know, and--devoted to you. More devoted to you than you deserve.

And you don't mean to marry her? I suppose you've seen some one else?"

Drake grew hot, but he still clung to his notion of honor.

"I tell you what it is, Drake," said the earl, bringing down his port

glass on the table so violently that it snapped off at the stem, "you

young fellows of the present day haven't any idea of honor. Here's a

girl, a beautiful girl, and nice in every way, simply devoted to you,

and you go and throw her over. For some insane fancy, I suppose! Well,

see here, I'm d----d if I'll countenance it. I abide by my condition.

You make it up with Luce and marry her, and I'll settle this money on

you, as I've said. If not----"




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