What could she have said to him if she had been compelled to tell him of her engagement to Stephen Whitelaw?
What excuse could she have made for marrying a man about whom she had been wont to express herself to Frank Randall in most unequivocal terms?
Excuse there was none, since she could not betray her father.

It was better, therefore, that young Randall should hear of her marriage in the common course of things, and that he should think of her just as badly as he pleased.

This was only one more poisoned drop in a cup that was all bitterness.
"He will believe that I was a hypocrite at heart always," the unhappy girl said to herself, "and that I value Stephen Whitelaw's money more than his true heart--that I can marry a man I despise and dislike for the sake of being rich.

What can he think worse of me than that?
and how can he help thinking that?
He knows that I have a good spirit of my own, and that my father could not make me do anything against my will.

He will never believe that this marriage has been all my father's doing." The wedding morning came at last, bright and spring-like, with a sun that shone as gaily as if it had been lighting the happiest union that was ever recorded in the hymeneal register.