Then, with a renewal of courage indicated by the steadying of her
form and a spirited uplift of her head, she observed with a touch
of command in her voice:
"There are some things which must be discussed whatever our wishes
or preconceived resolves. The separation between you and Mr.
Oliver Ostrander cannot be so absolute (since whatever your cause
of complaint you are still his father and he your son) that you
will allow his whole life's happiness to be destroyed for the lack
of a few words between yourself and me."
He had made his bow, and he now proceeded to depart, severity in
his face and an implacable resolution in his eye. But some impulse
made him stop; some secret call from deeply hidden, possibly
unrecognised, affections gave him the will to say:
"A plea uttered through a veil is like an unsigned message. It
partakes too much of the indefinite. Will you lift your veil,
madam?"
"In a minute," she assured him. "The voice can convey truth as
certainly as the features. I will not deny you a glimpse of the
latter after you have heard my story. Will you hear it, judge?
Issues of no common importance hang upon your decision. I entreat-
-but no, you are a just man; I will rely upon your sense of right.
If your son's happiness fails to appeal to you, let that of a
young and innocent girl lovely as few are lovely either in body or
mind."
"Yourself, madam?"
"No, my daughter! Oliver Ostrander has done us that honour, sir.
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