She thought so, too, but was not great enough to bear her triumph silently.
She kept on talking and carried her attack too far.
"And I refuse to obey because of my happiness.

I refuse because I hate Lord Stanley, and because, as you already know, I love another man." When she spoke the words "because I love another man," the cold, defiant expression of her face changed to one of ecstasy.
"I will have you to the dungeon this very hour, you brazen huzzy," cried Sir George.
"How often, father, shall I repeat that I am ready to go to the dungeon?
I am eager to obey you in all things save one." "You shall have your wish," returned Sir George.

"Would that you had died ere you had disgraced your house with a low-bred dog whose name you are ashamed to utter." "Father, there has been no disgrace," Dorothy answered, and her words bore the ring of truth.
"You have been meeting the fellow at secluded spots in the forest--how frequently you have met him God only knows--and you lied to me when you were discovered at Bowling Green Gate." "I would do it again gladly if I but had the chance," answered the girl, who by that time was reckless of consequences.
"But the chance you shall not have," retorted Sir George.
"Do not be too sure, father," replied Dorothy.

She was unable to resist the temptation to mystify him.

"I may see him before another hour.