"Since you will not listen to fair words, I defy you. I will go to Eastham and never leave Dora again until she will be my own."

High, angry words passed between them, but Ralph in his passion had told the secret Ronald had longed to know—Dora was at Eastham.

It was a sad story and yet no rare one. Love and jealousy robbed the boy of his better sense; duty and honor were forgotten. Under pretense of visiting one of his college friends, Ronald went to Eastham. Lord and Lady Earle saw him depart without any apprehension; they never suspected that he knew where Dora was.

It was a sad story, and bitter sorrow came from it. Word by word it can not be written, but when the heir of Earlescourt saw Dora again, her artless delight, her pretty joy and sorrow mingled, her fear and dislike of Ralph, her love for himself drove all thought of duty and honor from his mind. He prayed her to become his wife secretly. He had said that when once they were married his father would forgive them, and all would be well. He believed what he said; Dora had no will but his. She forgot all Lady Earle's warnings; she remembered only Ronald and his love. So they were married in the quiet parish church of Helsmeer, twenty miles from Eastham, and no human being either knew or guessed their secret.

There was no excuse, no palliation for an act that was undutiful, dishonorable, and deceitful—there was nothing to plead for him, save that he was young, and had never known a wish refused.

They were married. Dora Thorne became Dora Earle. Ronald parted from his pretty wife immediately. He arranged all his plans with what he considered consummate wisdom. He was to return home, and try by every argument in his power to soften his father and win his consent. If he still refused, then time would show him the best course. Come what might, Dora was his; nothing on earth could part them. He cared for very little else. Even if the very worst came, and his father sent him from home, it would only be for a time, and there was Dora to comfort him.

He returned to Earlescourt, and though his eyes were never raised in clear, true honesty to his father's face, Lord Earle saw that his son looked happy, and believed the cloud had passed away.

Dora was to remain at Eastham until she heard from him. He could not write to her, nor could she send one line to him; but he promised and believed that very soon he should take her in all honor to Earlescourt.