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Updated: July 5, 2025
It was that we might not go to Earlescourt at all that if papa did not return, or died young, all would go to a Mr. Lionel Dacre, and we should remain here. Imagine that fate living a long life and dying at the Elms!" "It is all conjecture," said her sister. "Try to be more contented, Beatrice. We do not make our own lives, we have not the control of our own destiny."
Now she listened to her lover's plans as if a ghostly hand had clutched her heart and benumbed her with fear. That evening it seemed to Beatrice Earle as though she would never be left alone. In the drawing room stood a dainty little escritoire used by the ladies of Earlescourt. Here she dared not write lest Lord Airlie should, as he often did, linger by her, pretending to assist her.
Stephen Thorne and his wife, although rather dazzled by the fact that their daughter had captivated the future Lord Earlescourt, let common sense and reason prevail, and saw the disparity and misery such a marriage would cause. They promised to be gentle and kind to Dora, not to scold or reproach her, and to allow some little time to elapse before urging Ralph Holt's claims.
Lord Earle loved his beautiful home; he spared no expense in improvements, and the time came when Earlescourt was known as a model estate. One thing he did of which he repented till the hour of his death.
A luncheon of fruit and wine was brought out into the garden, and they talked merrily of Earlescourt and the dear old friends there; of the ball and Prince di Borgesi; in all of which Dora felt that she had no share. Who was this beautiful lady, with her fair face and golden hair? The same face she saw that Ronald had painted in his picture, and every one admired. How graceful she was!
He did wonders upon the estate; model cottages seemed to rise by magic in place of the wretched tenements inhabited by poor tenants; schools, almshouses, churches, all testified to his zeal for improvement. People began to speak with warm admiration of the Earlescourt estate and of their master.
"Mother," cried the unhappy youth, "plead for me!" "It is useless," replied his father; "your choice has been made deliberately. I am not cruel. If you write to me I shall return your letters unopened. I shall refuse to see or hear from you, or to allow you to come near Earlescourt; but you can write to your mother I do not forbid that. She can see you under any roof save mine.
As the days and months passed, and the young heir did not return, wonder and surprise reigned at Earlescourt. Lord Earle never mentioned his son's name. People said he had gone abroad, and was living somewhere in Italy. To Lord Earl it seemed that his life was ended; he had no further plans, ambition died away; the grand purpose of his life would never be fulfilled.
One of the great beauties of Earlescourt was the broad terrace that ran along one side of the house; the view from it was unequaled for quiet loveliness. The lake shone in the distance from between the trees; the perfume from the hawthorn hedges filled the air, the fountains rippled merrily in the sunshine, and the flowers bloomed in sweet summer beauty.
If Lord Airlie ever discovered that any other man had called her his love, had kissed her face, and claimed her as his own, she would lose his affection. Of that she was also quite sure. If she would remain at Earlescourt, if she would retain her father's affection and Lord Airlie's love, they must never hear of Hugh Fernely. There could be no doubt on that head. What should she do with him?
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