# "A Modern Hercules," The Tale of a Sculptress/Chapter 23

CHAPTER XXIII.
LAWYER SALMON MEETS DEFEAT.
The day on which Doane and the two sweet friends visited Ouida was a fateful one. On that same day Lawyer Salmon had a most eventful conversation with his daughter Marie. They also met near Ouida's place.
"My dear child," said he, "it is foolish for you to pine your young life away in grief over Milton."
"Father," said she, "it is easy for you to speak thus, but I cannot root out of my soul the love and faith therein enshrined."
"He has forgotten you."
"I will not believe it," said she stoutly.
"How long," persisted the father, "has it been since you have heard from him?"
"About six months, but he may be ill. There must be some cause," said Marie, fighting every inch of ground.
"Stuff and nonsense," said he, "why don't you admit to yourself the truth. He has abandoned you. I always thought you had more pride than to throw yourself into the arms of a man who seems so utterly to have forgotten you."
"Father," said Marie, a tremor in her voice, "you wrong Milton. I fear you do not love me, or you would not so wound me."
"There, daughter, you are unjust to me. You may deem me hard, cold, unromantic, but I know these Royles. ​His father was as treacherous as an Indian, and I believe in heredity."
"And I in love," said Marie.
"And I shall be silent henceforth on the subject. Stern though I seem, I love you, my darling child, and your happiness is my one aim in life."
"Then withdraw your opposition to Milton, for I will only be completely happy when you shall admit him to your heart as a son."
"Ah, well," said Salmon with a sigh, thinking of the girl's dead mother, "I will think upon it. I must now go in to see Ouida. I will not be long detained. Remain without until I return."
"I will yet win him over. God alone knows how I have worried over Milton's long and extraordinary silence."
A moment and right upon the street, she felt warm arms around her, and a heart breathing next her own.
"Marie," was all that Milton said.
"Milton!" she exclaimed, "what a surprise to father. Your name has just left my lips. My father and I have just been indulging in another portion of our perpetual quarrel over you. Why have you been so long silent?"
"Silent, dearest," said he in surprise.
"I have not received a line from you in six months."
"Then my mail must have been miscarried, for I wrote almost as frequently as usual."
"Almost? Why not just as often?" she said, rather piqued.
"For the last few months I have been more than absorbed in my work, for the annual competition at Rome, and moments were golden."
​"Did you succeed?" she asked in breathless suspense.
"Yes, my darling," said Milton proudly, "I won the first prize, and hastened home to lay the laurels at your feet."
"I am proud of you, and I rejoice in your success. Now father shall come over to us," said Marie.
"What's the news?" asked Milton. "I just disembarked from the Germania, jumped into a cab at the wharf, drove to your residence, learned that you had started for this place, followed, and once again behold your beloved face."
"Strange things have happened since you went abroad. You have heard about Ouida?"
"Yes," said Milton, "and it almost broke my heart. I owe so much to her."
"I am no longer jealous of her, and, dear Milton, if you can in any way help her I will love you more than ever, if possible."
"I need no inspiration to that end," said Milton, "my own gratitude would urge and compel me to serve her."
"You are always generous, Milton, and I appreciate you all the more for it."
"I care not what the world may say," said Milton, "but humanity needs her, and she shall no longer be buried beneath the weight of a sin for which long ago she paid the awful penalty."
"I share your opinion with all my heart," said Marie.
Just about this time Mr. Salmon, having accomplished the mission which had called him to Ouida's house, returned, and his first glance lighted upon the happy pair, who were totally oblivious to his presence. He turned down another street, with a sigh, and left them ​undisturbed. He had met with defeat. The girl's faith had triumphed. He felt he ought to succumb, yet he was proud and stubborn, and even yet there was opposition in his soul.