She looked at him steadily, with eyes shining brightly
through tears.
"Your name is not Pattison, neither is it Latrigg. When you marry
Charlotte Sandal, it must be by your own true name; and that is Stephen
Sandal."
"Stephen Sandal, mother?"
"Yes. You are the son of Launcelot Sandal, the late squire's eldest
brother."
"Then, mother, then I am--What am I, mother?"
"You are squire of Sandal-Side and Torver. No living man but you has a
right to the name, or the land, or to Seat-Sandal."
"I should have known this before, mother."
"I think not. We had, father and I, what we believed good reasons, and
kind reasons, for holding our peace. But times and circumstances have
changed; and, where silence was once true friendship and kindness, it is
now wrong and cruelty. Many years ago, Stephen, when I was young and
beautiful, Launcelot Sandal loved me. And my father and Launcelot's
father loved each other as David and Jonathan loved. They were scarcely
happy apart; and not even to please the proud mistress Charlotte, would
the squire loosen the grip of heart and hand between them. But your
father was more under his mother's influence: proud lad as he was, he
feared her; and when she discovered his love for me, there was such a
scene between them as no man will go through twice in his lifetime. I
have no excuse to make for marrying him secretly except the old, old
one, Stephen.
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