responsibility of managing her in the hands of a husband. The stubborn
violence of Sir George's nature, the rough side of which had never before
been shown to Dorothy, in her became adroit wilfulness of a quality that
no masculine mind may compass. But her life had been so entirely
undisturbed by opposing influences that her father, firm in the belief
that no one in his household would dare to thwart his will, had remained
in dangerous ignorance of the latent trouble which pervaded his daughter
from the soles of her shapely feet to the top of her glory-crowned head.

Sir George, in casting about for a son-in-law, had hit upon the heir to
the house of Derby as a suitable match for his child, and had entered into
an alliance offensive and defensive with the earl against the common
enemy, Dorothy. The two fathers had partly agreed that the heir to Derby
should wed the heiress of Haddon. The heir, although he had never seen his
cousin except when she was a plain, unattractive girl, was entirely
willing for the match, but the heiress--well, she had not been consulted,
and everybody connected with the affair instinctively knew there would be
trouble in that quarter. Sir George, however, had determined that Dorothy
should do her part in case the contract of marriage should be agreed upon
between the heads of the houses. He had fully resolved to assert the
majesty of the law vested in him as a father and to compel Dorothy to do
his bidding, if there were efficacy in force and chastisement. At the time
when Sir George spoke to Dorothy about the Derby marriage, she had been a
prisoner for a fortnight or more, and had learned that her only hope
against her father lay in cunning. So she wept, and begged for time in
which to consider the answer she would give to Lord Derby's request. She
begged for two months, or even one month, in which to bring herself to
accede to her father's commands.

"You have always been so kind and good to me, father, that I shall try to