strong god thou art the enemy of gods,

a hater of blind eros and his joys,

thy rule is bitter as the stinging rods

that scourge at dian's feast the spartan boys;

evil his soul who asks thine evil aid,

and in revenge such evil aid employs,

in sundering the hearts of youth and maid.

the garsworth family was never a very prolific one, but the estates had always descended in a direct line from father to son. many a time the race seemed to be on the point of extinction owing to the representative being an only child, yet though the line dwindled down to depending on one life alone for its continuity it never absolutely died out. in the event of such a thing taking place it would have been difficult to say who would have succeeded to the estates, as the garsworth family seemed to be averse to matrimony and their connection with the county families was, to say the least, doubtful. besides, as there was no entail, the estates were completely at the disposal of the head of the family for the time being, and he could will them to whomsoever he pleased. as hitherto son had always succeeded father, there had been no necessity for the exercise of such a power, but now the sole representative of the race being unmarried he was at liberty to use his own judgment in disposing of the estates.

in the opinion of right-minded people there could be very little doubt as to who should succeed the squire, for una was the next of kin. she was the only living representative of the younger branch of the family, being the grand-daughter of the squire's aunt, and therefore his second cousin. miss cassandra, although she constantly alluded to randal garsworth as "my cousin," was as a matter of fact only a relation by marriage, being una's paternal aunt.

una's parents had died while she was a child and she had been brought up by the kind-hearted though eccentric miss cassy, who sent her to germany in order to complete her education. miss cassandra, having an income of three hundred a year, dwelt in london, where she was known among a select society of well-born fossils who looked upon her as a mere child. una, having finished her education, came back to england and took up her abode with miss cassy, and having an income of some two hundred a year joined it to that of her aunt, and thus the two women managed to live very comfortably in a small way.

on seeing una's beauty, however, miss cassandra had no intention that she should live a dismal life in a smoky london suburb, without at least one chance of seeing the gay world and marrying as befitted her birth and loveliness, so she wrote to squire garsworth on the subject. the old man sent in reply a gracious message that una could come down and stay at the grange, and that he would not forget her in his will. miss cassy, not knowing the idiosyncrasies of the recluse, saw in her mind's eye a hospitable country house full of joyous company, so persuaded una to accept the invitation, saying she herself would go also. after some demur squire garsworth agreed to miss cassy coming, and in due time, having broken up their london home, the two ladies arrived at the grange.

their dismay was great at finding the sordid way in which the squire lived, and miss cassy would have promptly returned to london, only una, being touched by the loneliness of her kinsman, determined to remain, persuading miss cassy to do likewise. so they lived quietly at the grange on the somewhat begrudged hospitality of the old man, their own incomes obtaining for them any luxuries they might require, as they certainly received nothing but the bare necessities of life from their host.

in the mad pursuit of his delusion, garsworth, in contrast to the lavishness of his youth, had become absolutely penurious in his mode of life. the large staff of servants necessary for such an immense house as the grange had been long ago dispensed with, and patience allerby, assisted by jellicks looked after the household, while the stony munks exercised a grim sovereignty over the exterior arrangements. the squire mostly lived in his own study, and una, aided by miss cassy, managed to make one room habitable for themselves, but the rest of the house was given over to the rats and spiders, becoming at last so lonely and eerie that miss cassy frequently declared it was haunted.

una having fallen in love with reginald, was quite content in her dreary exile, but miss cassy, used to the lively entertainments of the fossilized society in london, longed to get away from the place, and looked forward to the squire dying with a certain ghastly eagerness, as she thought una would then come in for all the estates and they could once more live london.

on the morning after the concert miss cassy and una seated at a late breakfast, were talking seriously about the unsettled health of the squire, who was now obviously breaking up.

"he's about seventy-three now," said miss cassy thoughtfully, "i'm sure he can't live long.

"my dear aunty!" replied una in a shocked tone, "how can you talk so?"

"why not?" retorted miss cassy indignantly. "he's not much use alive. i'm sure he'd be more use dead."

"why?"

"because you'd get his money and we could go back to dear london."

"i don't want his money," said una with great spirit, "and certainly don't care about speculating on cousin garsworth's death to gain it. i wonder at your doing so, aunt."

"well, i'm sure, una," whimpered miss cassy, producing her handkerchief, "you are so odd--i only meant to say i'm tired of this place--it is dull--now isn't it? i need excitement, you know i need excitement--and after me bringing you up. i always dressed you beautifully--real lace--and kept you so clean. i always had your nerves attended to--you blame me now--i want to see you rich--it isn't odd--wishing to see you rich, and i'm so dull here; really una, you are unkind--quite crushing--i'm only an ivy--oh, why wasn't i married? there's nothing for one to cling to--you don't want me to cling."

"my dear auntie," said una with a smile, "you are so sensitive."

"ivy," sobbed miss cassy, "nerves--mother's side--you've got none--so very odd."

"i don't want you to think of the squire dying, it won't benefit me at all."

miss cassy removed her handkerchief and gasped:

"quite ten thousand a year--he can't take it away--you're his only relative--no one could be so odd as to leave it to a what's-it's-name asylum or a cats'-home."

"i don't know whom he'll leave the money to," said una deliberately. "i certainly ought to get it, but you know the squire's delusion about re-incarnation--you may depend his will is mixed up with the idea, how i don't know--but there will be some trouble at his death."

"such an idiot he is," groaned miss cassy, "quite eccentric--hereditary--i've seen it in you--bad blood you know--it's in all old families--our family was always sane."

to prove which sanity miss cassy arose from the table to go to her room, and placed the tea cosy on her head to protect her from cold. the eccentric lady walked to the door talking in a broken fashion all the time.

"i'm sure i don't want his money--small income but sure--yes--but it's so dull--i love london--i can't blossom here--i'm like a cabbage--in town i expand--such nice amusements--madame tussaud's and the crystal palace--so exciting--it's food--food--oh, dear me, dr. nestley is this you? how is my cousin? better?--so glad--it's very odd, isn't it? i mean it's not odd i'm glad--no--quite so--oh, you want to see miss challoner--yes--good-bye just now," and miss cassy, with the tea cosy perched on her head, disappeared, leaving nestley alone with una.

the young man was not looking well, as his ruddy colour had given place to an unhealthy paleness, his skin had a flaccid appearance and his countenance wore an anxious, haggard expression. his eyes glanced restlessly round the room looking at everything except una, and he moved his hands nervously. even in his voice there was a change, for in place of his former bold confident tones he now spoke in a low hesitating manner.

"i just came to tell you the squire is better, miss challoner," he said in an agitated voice, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"it's very good of you, doctor," she replied courteously. "i hope he will become quite strong again."

"i'm afraid not, his body is worn out and has not strength enough to resist disease--of course, now he has only a slight cold, but any chance exposure may affect his lungs seriously and if pneumonia sets in i'm afraid he will have no chance."

"what is to be done?" she asked anxiously.

"i cannot do more than i have done, he must be kept quiet and warm. i've persuaded him to take some strong soup which will do him good--in fact i think his ascetic manner of living has had as much to do with his ill-health as anything else."

"i hope he will get well," said una earnestly, "if he would only change his mode of life i'm sure he would get well."

"yes," the young man answered absently, "of course, exactly," he hesitated a moment then burst out in despair, "then i would have to go away."

una looked at him surprised at his evident emotion.

"of course we would be very sorry to lose you," she said quietly, "but you, no doubt, would be glad to get back to your home."

"no--i would not," he said passionately, coming a step nearer, "because you would not be there."

"i?"

una challoner rose to her feet in amazement at his words.

"i?" she repeated in a puzzled tone. "what have i to do with your movements?"

"everything," said the unhappy young man with a gesture of despair. "when i came here a short time since i was perfectly happy--i had conquered all the evils and sorrow of my youth, and my life was a pleasant one, but since i saw you all is changed. i can think of nothing but you--morn, noon, and night, i see you before me--morn, noon, and night, i only hear your voice."

he looked at her defiantly and saw her standing silent and indignant before him.

"can't you understand?" he burst out again rapidly. "i love you--i love you! from the first moment i saw you i loved you--i want you to be my wife, will you be my wife una."

miss challoner felt perplexed--this man had only known her a fortnight, she had spoken very little to him, yet here he was asking her to marry him in a vehement, masterful manner which roused within her all the pride of womanhood.

"what you ask is impossible, doctor nestley," she said coldly and deliberately. "i have only known you a fortnight and--beyond this i am ignorant of your life in every way. i never dreamed that you would speak to me in this manner."

"then you don't love me?" he cried in despair, "you cold perfection of womanhood, you don't love me?"

una would have replied indignantly, but she began to see the nervous excitable temperament of the young man and recognised that, being under the influence of a strong emotion, he was not answerable for the way in which he spoke.

"no," she replied gently, "i cannot love you, doctor nestley--even if i did, i could hardly respond to your passion after so short an acquaintance; come, doctor, you have been worn out by your nightly attendance on my cousin, you are not well and speak without thinking, forget the words you have spoken and let things be as they were."

it was a gracious thing of her to say, for, in spite of his evident earnestness, she felt indignant at the manner in which he had spoken to her.

"things can never be as they were," he replied dully. "i have seen you and that has changed my whole life--is there no chance?"

"there is no chance," she replied coldly, and turned away to intimate the interview was over. even as she did so, he sprang forward with a fierce light in his eyes.

"you love another," he hissed out between his clenched teeth.

una turned on him in a dignified way with her eyes blazing with anger.

"how dare you speak to me in this manner?" she said wrathfully. "do not try my patience too far--i have given you an answer to the mad words you spoke--now go."

she pointed to the door with a commanding gesture and the young man drooping his head on his breast, moved towards it.

"you don't know what you are doing," he said in a dreary voice. "you are destroying my life; whatever evils now drag me down, it will be your fault."

"a cowardly speech," she said in a clear, scornful voice; "because you cannot get the toy you long for you speak like a child. i have nothing to do with your life, if you yield to evil it will be through your own weak will, not through any fault of mine--not a word," she went on as he was about to speak; "leave me at once and i will try and forget what you have said."

he tried to look her in the face, but seeing her standing tall and straight as a young greek maiden, with nothing but scorn and condemnation in her eyes, he turned away with a sigh, and letting his head fall on his breast walked slowly out of the room, careless of what happened to him now that he had placed all his chances on the casting of a die--and lost.