a chair. At this moment the clerk who had refused to take
her message entered the room.

"Leave us for a moment, Power," said Mr. Gering. The man withdrew
immediately.

"Thank you," said Effie. Then she added abruptly, "I won't keep you a
moment. I will tell you quite simply what I want. My brother George has
behaved very badly."

"To put it plainly," interrupted Mr. Gering, "your brother George is a
scoundrel."

"You may call him any names you please," said Effie; "I have not come
here to defend him. I know that he stole fifty pounds from you
yesterday."

"Oh, you know that, do you?"

"Yes. Forty-five pounds of that money he put into the City Bank in my
mother's name. That forty-five pounds you can have back within an hour.
We shall then be in your debt five pounds, which I want you to let me
pay you back. I have just secured a very good situation as a governess,
and am to be in receipt of one hundred and twenty pounds a year. I can
pay you back the money in about a month's time out of my own salary."

"You are very conscientious," said Mr. Gering, with a slight sneer, "and
I shall be glad to have my money back. If that is all your business,
perhaps you will leave me."

"No, it is not all my business. I want you to forgive George,--not to
prosecute him,--not to give him up to the law."

"Ah! I thought that was coming. And why, pray, should I not prosecute
the young rascal? Don't you think he richly deserves punishment?"

"Honestly, I do."

When Effie said this, Mr. Gering's eyes twinkled for the first time.

"Eh, eh!" he exclaimed. "I am glad we're of one mind on that point. We
both doubtless believe that punishment would be good for him."

"We do."

"Then why deprive him of anything so beneficial?"

"Because of my mother."

"Your mother! Is there a mother in the case?"

"There is--a mother who lies now at the point of death. Let me tell you
her story."

"I haven't read my letters yet, Miss Staunton."

"Oh, never mind your letters! Let me tell you about my father and my
mother. Four months ago my father was alive. He was a country doctor. He
was very good, everyone loved him. He caught diphtheria, and died. My
mother has heart disease, and my father felt sure that the shock of
losing him would kill her. He loved her most tenderly. When he lay dying
he was certain that God would allow them both to leave the world
together. My mother was kneeling by his bedside; and George, my brother,
knelt th