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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

Grant, I desire a word with you.--Leave the room, Forgue."
"My lord," returned Forgue, "you order me from the room to confer
with one whose presence with you is an insult to me!"
"He seems to me," answered his father bitterly, "to be after your
own mind in the affair!--How indeed should it be otherwise! But so
far I have found Mr. Grant a man of honour, and I desire to have
some private conversation with him. I therefore request you will
leave us alone together."
This was said so politely, yet with such latent command, that the
youth dared not refuse compliance.
The moment he closed the door behind him,
"I am glad he yielded," said the earl, "for I should have had to ask
you to put him out, and I hate rows. Would you have done it?"
"I would have tried."
"Thank you. Yet a moment ago you took his part against me!"
"On the girl's part--and for his honesty too, my lord!"
"Come now, Mr. Grant! I understand your prejudices, I cannot expect
you to look on the affair as I do. I am glad to have a man of such
sound general principles to form the character of my younger son;
but it is plain as a mountain that what would be the duty of a young
man in your rank of life toward a young woman in the same rank,
would be simple ruin to one in lord Forgue's position. A capable man
like you can make a living a hundred different ways; to one born
with the burden of a title, and without the means of supporting it,
marriage with such a girl means poverty, gambling, hunger,
squabbling, dirt--suicide!"
"My lord," answered Donal, "the moment a man speaks of love to a
woman, be she as lowly and ignorant as mother Eve, that moment rank
and privilege vanish, and distinction is annihilated.


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