Your father has forbidden you to go!’” “Well?” “She said, ‘I hate being horrid to you and father, but I feel it my duty to go to that ball!’” “Felt it her duty!” “‘Very well,’ I said, ‘then I wash my hands of the whole business. Now I have done something for which you might be pardoned if you did kill me. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. CHAPTER XX. Forgive me. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion.
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