They are both to be
sold at this moment. What prize? Why, the wife I have secured for you, if
you don't go and play the fool and neglect her."
Walter Clifford looked aghast.
"Julia Clifford!" said he. "Pray don't ask me to marry _her_."
"Not ask you?--but I do ask you; and what is more, I command you. Would
you revolt again against your father, who has forgiven you, and break my
heart, now I am enfeebled by disease? Julia Clifford is your wife, or you
are my son no more."
CHAPTER VIII.
THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE.
The next time Walter Clifford met Mary Bartley he was gloomy at
intervals. The observant girl saw he had something on his mind. She taxed
him with it, and asked him tenderly what it was.
"Oh, nothing," said he.
"Don't tell me!" said she. "Mind, nothing escapes my eye. Come, tell me,
or we are not friends."
"Oh, come, Mary. That is hard."
"Not in the least. I take an interest in you."
"Bless you for saying so!"
"And so, if you keep your troubles from me, we are not friends,
nor cousins.
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