"It will be done."
"Yes--finally."
"Sir, you must know that I have loved your daughter ever since I first saw her. I ask your permission to make her my wife."
Dr. Macrae remained silent.
"I cannot bear the idea of waiting for nearly two years."
"You will be compelled to wait."
"Sir?"
"It is my will that you wait."
"Marion wishes to go with me."
"Have you asked her to go with you?"
"Not definitely, but----"
"Ah! I thought so."
"I will ask her to go with me now, and she will go."
"She will not. I forbid it. She will be her own mistress in twenty months. She can marry you then--if she wishes. But I advise you to give her up."
"Never! Until Marion gives me up I will never give Marion up. I swear it!"
"She is my daughter for twenty months longer. Time is sure to bring changes. Even now she would not leave me to go with you to India. You must be mad to imagine such a thing."
"I am in love. I trust her love by my own. She will do as I wish."
"She will keep faith with her father. You shall see that," and he rose, threw open the door of the room, and called imperatively,
"_Marion!_"
"Yes, Father," was the ready answer. "Do you want me?"
"Yes. Come quickly."
Lord Cramer had followed him into the hall, and when Dr. Macrae perceived this some innate, in-born sense of courtesy due the stranger within his gate caused him to return at once to his study. In two or three minutes Cramer followed. He had Marion"s hand in his, and Mrs.
Caird was but a few steps behind. She entered the room with them, and Dr. Macrae looked at her not very pleasantly.
"I did not call you, Jessy," he said.
"I am aware of that fact, Ian," she answered. "I called myself."
"We are not requiring your presence."
"I was never more needed. What for are you wanting Marion?"
"You can stay and hear, if you wish."
Then Dr. Macrae took the chair at his desk, and Marion and Lord Cramer stood before him. Their hands were still clasped, and unconsciously Marion leaned slightly toward her lover. The transfiguration of love suffused her face, and she stood smiling in all its glory. Dr. Macrae was struck afresh by a beauty he had hitherto regarded too little. He saw in her at this hour the n.o.blest type of Celtic loveliness--its winning face, splendid form, rich coloring, all vivified by a well-cultivated intellect, and made charming and winsome by childlike confidence and simplicity. For a moment his heart swelled with pride as the sense of his fatherhood flashed over him.
"Marion," he said not unkindly, "Marion, Lord Cramer tells me you are willing to go to India with him. I cannot believe it."
"I have promised Richard to be his wife, so then, wherever he dwells, there my home will be. Is not that right, Father?"
"Yes, under proper conditions. But a promise made out of law and time is no promise. The law of your native land forbids you to make that promise, without my consent, until you are twenty-one years old."
"What right has the law of England to interfere with my marriage?" Then she laughed cheerfully, and said, "But it is no matter, dear Father, for you are above the law in this case. You have only to say, "I do not want to delay or spoil your happiness, Marion; I am quite willing you should marry----""
"Marion, it would be impossible for me to say such words. How can I be willing for you to go to a country so far off--a country full of deadly diseases and constant fighting--where the heat is intolerable and savage beasts, treacherous men and deadly serpents abound everywhere--yes, where even the insect life makes human existence a constant torture."
"Father, many delicately nurtured women brave all these things, for their husbands" sakes."
"Yes, and the majority die in doing so. That is, however, your side of the question. But I also have a definite right in this matter, a direct ethical right, which in the stress of this unhappy hour I feel fully justified in claiming. In my favor the law considers that for nineteen years I have had all the care, anxiety and expense of your feeding, clothing and education--that I have provided you with teachers and physicians, and looked after your religious instruction."
"I cannot see that there was any necessity for the law of the land to be looking after your rights in respect to the care and education of the children," said Mrs. Caird. "The interest of Marion"s money paid both Marion"s and Donald"s expenses excepting----"
"I am stating the conditions and provisions of a law, Jessy, not any particular application of it."
"Then what for are you naming its application to yourself?"
Dr. Macrae ignored Mrs. Caird"s question, and continued: "This law argues, and very justly, that a girl who has received nineteen years of unlimited love and attention of all kinds should remain until she is twenty-one to brighten her parents" home, learn how to estimate their affection and goodness to her, and get some ideas concerning the world into which she may finally go. It permits her parents, also, to bring proper lovers to her notice, and to point out the faults of those not worthy of her regard. It is a law that all girls with money of their own should rigorously observe;" and in making this last remark Dr. Macrae looked so pointedly at Lord Cramer that he was quite justified in defending himself.
"Minister Macrae," he said, "I have never supposed that Marion had any fortune; if she has, I want none of it. You ought to know that. Not a penny piece." And he raised his head proudly and drew Marion closer to his side, and whispered a word or two, which she answered by a bright, loving smile, and an emphatic, "No!"
"Marion has twenty thousand pounds from her mother," said Dr. Macrae.
"She has a very wealthy uncle who will not forget her--and other relatives."
"You need not count Jessy Caird among "the other relatives," Ian. My money is all going to Donald--every bawbee of it."
Dr. Macrae looked at her, and then continued: "My dear Marion, the case is now fully stated to you. You are your own judge. I am at your mercy"; and he stood up and regarded the poor girl with eyes from which his pa.s.sionate soul radiated an influence that it was almost impossible to resist.
"O Father!" she cried, "what is it you wish?"
"That you should deal justly with me. If you have no love left for your father, at least give him justice."
"You mean that I must pay you the toll of two years" love service for my support and education?"
"Yes."
Then she turned to her lover and put her hands upon his shoulders. Her cheeks were flaming and her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears. "Good-bye, Richard!" she cried. "Good-bye, dearest of all! I must pay this debt. My Father refuses to release me. I must free myself."
"This decision is what I expected from my daughter," said Dr. Macrae, and he rose and went to her side and took her hand.