"I was not aware that I appeared any happier when in his society than on
any other occasion."
"It is upon that very point that I desire to speak to you," he went on
in a low serious tone. "You will remember that before we left
Stratfield Mortimer, I gave you a few words of kindly advice regarding
an impossible lover with whom you had foolishly become infatuated."
"Yes," she said, "I well remember."
"Then it is upon the subject of your marriage that I want again to say a
few words to you."
"Marriage!" she laughed. "Why, I shall not marry for years yet, dear
old dad. Besides, if I left you, whatever would you do?"
"Ah, yes, my girl," he answered hoarsely, as a shadow of pain flitted
for an instant across his darkened brow. "You must not lose the chance
of youth."
She closed her book, placed it aside slowly, and regarded him with
surprise.
"Haven't you always urged me to wait?" she asked half-reproachfully,
toying with the two little gipsy rings upon her slim finger. "I
understood that you were entirely against my marriage."
"So I was when you did not possess the chance of making a wealthy and
satisfactory alliance," he replied.
His daughter looked at him inquiringly, but hazarded no remark. She saw
by the expression of his face how terribly in earnest he was.
"You, of course, know to whom I refer," he added, speaking in a low,
intense tone, as he bent towards her, gazing still seriously into the
sweet, open countenance.
"To Zertho," she observed mechanically.
"Yes. If you reflect, as I have already reflected times without number
during these past few weeks, Liane, you must recognise that your
position as the daughter of an almost penniless adventurer, is by no
means an enviable one. If anything happened to me you would be left
without a friend, and without a penny. Such thoughts are, I admit, not
exactly pleasant ones, nevertheless the truth must be faced, at this,
the most important crisis of your life. Again, I have nothing to give
you, and can hope for nothing. In the days bygone I managed to pick up
sufficient to provide us with the comforts and luxuries of life, but
now, alas! luck and friends have alike deserted me, and I am left
ruined. I--"
"But you are not friendless, dear old dad," Liane cried suddenly, the
light of affection glowing in her beautiful eyes as, with a sudden
movement, she sprang across to him, and kneeling beside his chair as she
often did, put both her soft, clinging arms about his neck. "I am your
friend, as I have always been. I do not want to marry and leave you,"
and she burst into tears.
His voice became choked by a sob he vainly strove to keep back. He felt
his resolution giving way, and bit his lip.
"If--if you would remain my friend, Liane, you will marry," he managed
to ejaculate at last, although the words seemed to stifle him, and he
hated himself for having uttered them.
"No, dad--I will never allow you to live alone."
"But you must, dearest," he answered with emphasis, fondly pushing back
her dark hair from her brow. "Think what a chance you now have of
securing position, wealth and everything which contributes to life's
happiness. Zertho loves you."
"I know," she answered, with a touch of ineffable sadness in her voice
and raising her tear-stained face to his. "But I am happy as I am, with
you."
"True. Yet in a few months the money we have will become exhausted, and
whence we shall obtain more I know not," he said with a look of despair.
"You have a chance to become a princess--the wife of a man even
wealthier than his sovereign--therefore you should seriously reflect,
Liane, ere you refuse."
"How did you know that Zertho loves me?" she suddenly inquired, turning
her frank face upward to his.
"Because he has told me," he answered, in a voice low almost as a
whisper. "He asked my permission to speak to you and offer you
marriage."
As he looked at her the thought flashed across his mind that he, her
father, who loved her so dearly, was deceiving her. What would she say
if she knew the truth?
"Yes," she exclaimed with a sigh, "he says that he loves me, and has
asked me to become his wife. But I have refused."
"Why?"
"Because I do not, I cannot love him, dad. Surely you would never wish
me to marry a man for whom I have no affection, and in whom I have no
trust." Her father held his breath and evaded her gaze. Her argument
was unassailable. The words stabbed his tortured conscience.
"But would not the fact of your becoming Princess d'Auzac place you in a
position of independence such as thousands of women would envy?" he
hazarded, again stroking her silky hair with tenderness. "You know
Zertho well. He's a good fellow and would make you an excellent
husband, no doubt."
"I can never marry him," she answered, decisively.
"You will refuse his offer?" he observed, hoarsely. Her firmness was
causing him some anxiety.
"I have already refused," she replied.
Slowly he grasped her hand, and after a brief pause looked her steadily
in the face, saying--
"Liane, you must become his wife."
"I love but one man, dad, and cannot love another," she sobbed
passionately, her arms still about his neck.
"Forget him."
She remained silent a few moments; then, at last looking up with calm,
inquiring gaze, asked--
"Why are you so earnestly persuading me to marry this man who is neither
your true friend nor mine, dad? What object can you have in urging me
to do what can only bring me grief and dire unhappiness?"
He made no reply. His face, she noticed, had grown hard and cold; he
was entirely unlike himself.
"I love George," she went on. "I will only marry him."
"Surely you will not ruin all your future, and mine, for his sake," he
blurted forth at last.
"Your future!" she gasped, drawing away from him and regarding him with
sudden surprise as the truth dawned upon her. "I see it all now! With
me as Princess d'Auzac, the wife of a wealthy man, you would never
want."
His teeth were set. He held her small, soft hand so tightly that it
hurt her. He tried to speak, but his lips refused to utter sound. He
was persuading his daughter to wreck her young life in order to secure
his own safety. The thought was revolting, yet he was forced to act
thus: to stand calmly by and witness her self-sacrifice, or bear the
consequences of exposure.
He bowed his head in agony of mind. A lump rose in his throat, so that
his words were again stifled.
"My marriage would, I know, relieve you of a serious responsibility,"
she went on, calmly, without any trace of reproach. "I am not unmindful
of the fact that if I married Zertho I should gain wealth and position;
yet I do not love him. I--I hate him."
"He has been kind to us, and I believe he is extremely fond of you," he
said, wincing beneath the lie that fear alone forced to his lips. "Is
it not but natural that I should seek for you an improved social
position and such wealth as will place you beyond all anxiety in future?
Heaven knows that the past has been full enough of care and poverty."
"Ah! I know that, poor dad," Liane answered caressingly, in a tone of
sympathy, her arms again about his neck. "In the days gone by, because
you played fairly, and was never an unscrupulous sharper like Zertho,
luck forsook you. They laughed at you because you cared so much for me:
because you held Nelly and I aloof from the dregs of society into which
you had fallen. You were courageous always, and never when the days
were darkest did you relinquish hope, or did your love for me wane.
Yet," and she paused, "yet if you still cared for me as once you did, I
cannot but feel that you would hesitate ere you urged me to a hateful
alliance with a man I can never love."
"I am but endeavouring to secure your future happiness, Liane," he
answered, his voice sounding deep and hollow.
A silence fell, deep and impressive, broken only by the low, monotonous
roar of the waves beating upon the shore outside, and the musical jingle
of the bells on a pair of carriage-horses that were passing. Liane
started as she recognised the sound. They were Zertho's. Erle Brooker
would have rather died by his own hand ere he had persuaded her to marry
this man; yet for the hundredth time he proved to himself that by
suicide he would merely leave her unprotected, while she would most
probably afterwards learn from Zertho the terrible secret which he was
determined should, at all hazards, remain locked within his own troubled
heart.
"To persuade me to marry the Prince is but to urge me to a doom worse
than death," she exclaimed passionately at last. "No, dad, I am sure
you would never wish me to do this when I am so contented to live as I
am with you. If we are penniless--well, I shall never complain. It
will not be the first time that I have wanted a meal, and gone early to
bed because I've been hungry. I promise I'll not complain, only do not
endeavour to force me to marry Zertho. Let me remain with you."
"Alas! you cannot, my child!" he answered in a hard, dry, agonised tone,
his hand trembling nervously.
"Why?"
"You must forget young Stratfield, and become Princess d'Auzac," he said
firmly, intense anxiety betrayed upon his haggard countenance.
"Never!"
"But you must," he cried brokenly, with emphasis. "It is imperative--
for my sake, Liane--you must marry him, for my sake."