ernardine had re-entered her apartments again. As she
approached the door, she heard Jasper Wilde say to her father in an
angry, excited voice:

"There is no use in talking to you any longer; it must be settled
to-night. I do not intend to wait any longer."

"But it is so late!" whined the basket-maker in his high, sharp treble.

"You knew I was coming, and just what I was coming here for. Why didn't
you get rid of the poor, penny doctor, instead of encouraging him?"

"I could not say much to the doctor, for he had my life in his hands,
and saved it."

"There might be worse things for you to face," replied the man,
menacingly. And the poor old basket-maker understood but too well what
he meant.

"Yes, yes," he said, huskily, "you must certainly speak to Bernardine
this very night, if I can get her to give you a hearing. I will do my
best to influence her to have you."

"Influence!" exclaimed the man, savagely. "You must command her!"

"Bernardine is not a girl one can command," sighed the old man. "She
likes her own way, you know."

"It isn't for her to say what she wants or doesn't want!" exclaimed the
man savagely. "I shall look to you to bring the girl round to your way
of thinking, without any nonsense. Do you hear and comprehend?"

"Yes," said the old man, wearily. "But that isn't making Bernardine
understand. Some young girls are very willful!"

Trembling with apprehension, the old basket-maker dropped into the
nearest chair.

His haggard face had grown terribly pale, and his emaciated hands shook,
while his eyes fairly bulged from their sockets. The agony of mind he
was undergoing was intense.

"Will Bernardine refuse this man?" he muttered to himself, "Oh, if I
but dared tell her all, would she pity, or would she blame me?"

He loved the girl after his own fashion; but to save himself he was
willing to sacrifice her. Poor Bernadine! Had she but known all!

CHAPTER XII.

"YOU ARE FALSE AS YOU ARE FAIR, BERNARDINE!"

"I should think your own common sense would tell you. Surely you must
have guessed what I am so eager to say, Miss Bernardine?" Jasper Wilde
began, taking little heed of her father.

The girl's white lips opened, but no sound came from them. He was right;
she quite expected it; but she did not tell him so.

"I might as well break right into the subject at once," he said. "My
errand can be told in a few words. I have fallen deeply in love with
your pretty face, and I am