Oh, is that you, Tom? Tom? I am coming down in a minute," Vita said, and the door was shut.

This change in his relations with Vita pained Tom greatly, but he could not remonstrate with her, for he had an unpleasant, guilty feeling- which, though he thought it absurd, he could not suppress -of having acted towards her in an underhand, deceitful manner.

He waited on the landing until Vita appeared, and he walked downstairs with her.

"Did you get an invitation for a dance at The Beacon to-morrow night?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," answered Vita, as if it was a matter of daily occurrence. "I sent back to say that Lord Southsea had left, but that we others would be delighted to go.'

Tom was considerably relieved. He feared Vita might have sent back some very unpleasant reply, for when she was stirred up she was inclined to act on impulse, and do whatsoever her heart, for the moment, dictated; and Tom longed for peace between the two houses.

After dinner Tom waited until his father had retired into his study, when he followed him and asked if he might have some conversation with him on a matter of considerable importance.

"Certainly. What is it? Take a seat," said Mr. Marston, going to a spirit-case and mixing himself a glass of grog.

Tom waited until this little performance was over, then he said:

"I have come to ask your consent to my marriage with Lady Sybil Challenger. I have proposed to her, and she has accepted me."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Mr. Marston. "You have proposed marriage to Lord Raymond's daughter? You must be mad!

"And why?" Tom asked.

"Because I will see you d-d first before I allow

it. That's why!" and Mr. Marston swallowed his grog at a gulp.

"Father, I beg of you to keep cool, and let us discuss this subject dispassionately. I know you do not care for me in the way a man usually cares for his only son, but I cannot help having a great affection for you; and the saddest thought of my life is that we are not more to one another. I should like to be the sharer of all your annoyances and troubles, and to look upon you as my greatest friend, in addition to the love and respect I owe you as a parent. I want you to consider how important this subject is to me, and treat it with a certain amount of consideration. I am deeply in love with Sybil Challenger, and I believe she is with me. Is the subject of your only son's marriage and future happiness to be dismissed with an explosion of wrath?""

"Now look here, my lad," replied Mr. Marston. "You are a great deal too fond of laying down the law, and coming the dutiful son over me. I can answer to God that I have done my duty towards you better than you or any one had a right to expect. I tell you, once and for all, I positively forbid your marriage with Lady Sybil Challenger. I not only will turn you out of this house and wash my hands of you for good and all, if you still entertain the idea, but I will prevent its taking place, though it will disgrace you and me to do so. Before you leave this room you shall promise me never to see Lady Sybil Challenger again, or you may take the consequences. There must be something wrong in your breeding for you to have fallen in love with her at all."

Tom was very angry, but he kept himself under control. "I think it is you who are mad," he said, with suppressed emotion. "I positively refuse to give up Lady Sybil. I believe she loves me well enough to marry me in spite of you, and I am quite certain I love her sufficiently to do so. So you may do your

worst."

"Damme! You defy me, do you?" said Mr. Marston, and, jumping up from his chair, he tried to seize his son by the throat.

Tom caught his wrists and griped them with all that superhuman strength which he possessed. Never before had Mr. Marston felt himself overpowered by mortal man, and it completely paralysed him.

"Don't compel me to raise a hand against you," said Tom, when he had held him for some seconds, and releasing his father's wrists, he walked out of the

room.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

PAYING TOLL

MR. MARSTON did not appear at any of the meals the next day, he remained all the time in his study, where he held interviews with sundry individuals. From the noise which proceeded from his room, it seemed as if the discussions going on were not always of a peaceable character; but Mr. Marston's deep strident voice overpowered the others, and was always heard loudest, longest, and last.

One of the first to arrive on the scene was an old lawyer who did most of Mr. Marston's business; he was sent for by a special messenger early in the morning, and remained closeted with Mr. Marston for several hours.

Several of the old servants about the estate were summoned and interrogated; but the stormiest interview of all was with Mrs. Cape, Tom's foster mother. Many of these servants, after their audience with Mr. Marston was over, sought out Tom, but he was not to be found. He had started off directly after breakfast

for a long solitary walk, to consider the situation. He had been perfectly dumbfoundered at his father's outburst the night before. He expected that his news would be received without enthusiasm or interest, but it never suggested itself to him that his father could possibly object to his engagement, still less that he should get in a passion about it; the worst that he had anticipated was that he might wish the marriage to be postponed for a year or so. "Give

"What was he to do?" he asked himself.

up Sybil? No a thousand times no!" On that point he was determined. This contretemps gave an additional zest to their engagement, and he loved her more than ever. But was he in a position to marry a girl who adored wealth? Well, scarcely. He had five thousand pounds, which his father had handed over to him on his twenty-first birthday; that was invested in railway stock in his own name, from which he derived an income of something over £200 a year. His half-pay as a naval lieutenant amounted to £100, and his full pay to another £100, so that he had £300 a year to live upon ashore, and £400 when employed at sea, keeping up two establishments, and separated from his beloved Sybil.

Sailors are naturally far-seeing, and the prospect of a family of small Toms and Sybils presented itself to his view, which, while it gave him pleasure in one sense, caused him consternation in another.

He determined to make a clean breast of it to Sybil at The Beacon that night. He would disguise nothing from her, and he believed she would be as ready to share his poverty as his pre-supposed wealth.

It was nearly dinner-time when he got back to Marston Towers, and he at once went up to his room and dressed for dinner. His father did not appear at table, and Tom was glad of his absence. It was very trying to live under the same roof with him during their present relations to one another. But to-night everything should be cleared up, and to-morrow all

would be plain sailing. If Sybil did remain but truc, Tom was prepared to defy the rest of the world.

The carriage came round at the appointed time, and Mrs. Forbes, Vita, and he drove off. They scarcely spoke during their drive, though Vita bravely tried, more than once, to make conversation. They all felt as if they were entering upon troubled waters, and were anxious and uncomfortable.

They were late in arriving at The Beacon, and dancing was in full swing. They were ushered into the ball-room, and Tom danced with Vita.

The latter's appearance was particularly fascinating to-night. She was pale and ethereal-looking, and there was an expression on her face which portrayed great depth of character, and made her very interesting beside the inane smiles of the ordinary run of milkmaid-looking country girls, who were in their seventh heaven of delight at being asked to The Beacon; for it was the first time, for a very long period, any such entertainment had been given there.

Directly the dance was over, Tom left Vita with Mrs. Forbes, and went in search of Sybil. He discovered her at last, sitting out with the man she had snubbed so ruthlessly at Bamford Abbey, who belonged to a detachment of cavalry quartered in the neighbouring town.

Tom expected that Sybil would immediately get rid of the "plunger," and devote herself to him; but she showed no such intention. At last Tom, finding he was to receive no special favours, mildly asked her for a dance.

Sybil said in an off hand way: "I am engaged for everything a long way down; but I will give you the next quadrille."

"There is some reason for this," Tom said to himself as he withdrew; and he gave Sybil the benefit of the doubt in believing the reason was a good one. He returned to look after Vita, and found her talking to Sir Gilbert Caldecott.