But you're your own mistress, and you must do as you please." "Let me have time to think," the girl pleaded piteously; "let me have only a little time to think, father.

And you do believe that I'm sorry for you, don't you ?" she asked, kneeling beside him and clasping his unwilling hand.

"O father, I hope you believe that!" "I shall know what to believe when I know what you're going to do," the bailiff answered moodily; and his daughter knew him too well to hope for any more gracious speech than this.
She bade him good-night, and went slowly up to her own room to spend the weary wakeful hours in a bitter struggle, praying that she might be enlightened as to what she ought to do; praying that she might die rather than become the wife of Stephen Whitelaw.
When she and her father met at breakfast in the dull gray January morning, his aspect was even darker than it had been on the previous night; but he did not ask her if she had arrived at any conclusion.

He took his meal in sullen silence, and left her without a word.
They met again a little before noon, at which hour it was Mr.Carley's habit to consume a solid luncheon.

He took his seat in the same gloomy silence that he had preserved at breakfast-time, but flung an open letter across the table towards his daughter.
"Am I to read this ?" she asked gently.
"Yes, read it, and see what I've got to look to." The letter was from Sir David Forster; an angry one, revealing strong suspicions of his agent's dishonesty, and announcing that he should be at the Grange on the fifth of the month, to make a close investigation of all matters connected with the bailiff's administration.