the
writing-table, and taking a piece of note-paper bearing the Heyburn
crest, rapidly pencilled some memoranda upon it. He was, it seemed,
taking a copy of one of the documents.

Suddenly she sprang towards him, crying, "Give me that paper! Give it to
me at once, I say! It is my father's."

He straightened himself from the table, pulled down his white dress-vest
with its amethyst buttons, and, looking straight into her face, ordered
her to leave the room.

"I shall not go," she answered boldly. "I have discovered a thief in my
father's house; therefore my duty is to remain here."

"No. Surely your duty is to go upstairs and tell him;" and he bent
again, resuming his rapid memoranda. "Well," he asked defiantly, a few
moments later, seeing that she had not moved, "aren't you going?"

"I shall not leave you here alone."

"Don't. I might run away with some of the ornaments."

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed the girl bitterly, "you taunt me because you are
well aware of my helplessness--of what occurred on that
never-to-be-forgotten afternoon--of how completely you have me in your
power! I see it all. You defy me, well knowing that you could, in a
moment, bring upon me a vengeance terrible and complete. It is all
horrible!" she cried, covering her face with her hands. "I know that I
am in your power. And you have no pity, no remorse."

"I gave you full warning," he declared, placing the papers upon the
table and looking at her. "I gave you your choice. You cannot blame me.
You had ample time and opportunity."

"But I still have one man who loves me--a man who will yet stand my
friend and defend me, even against you!"

"Walter Murie!" he laughed, with a quick gesture of disregard. "You
believe him to be your friend? Recollect, my dear Gabrielle, that men
are deceivers ever."

"So it seems in your case," she exclaimed with poignant bitterness. "You
have brought scandalous comment upon my father's name, and yet you are
utterly unconcerned."

"Because, as I have already told you, your father is my friend."

"And it is his money which you spend so freely," she said, in a low,
hard voice of reproach. "It comes from him."

"His money!" he exclaimed quickly. "What do you mean? What do you
imply?"

"Simply that among my father's accounts a short time back I found two
cheques drawn by Lady Heyburn in your favour."

"And you told your father of them, of course!" he exclaimed with
sarcasm. "A remarkable discovery, eh?"

"I