iennes bordered
handkerchief, steeped in eau-de-cologne, "and I am sure Conrad would
not tell a falsehood."

"Perhaps not," said Vixen with a gloomy look. "We will take it for
granted that he is perfection and could not do wrong. But in this case
he is mistaken. I felt quite capable of killing him, but not of setting
fire to this house."

"Oh," wailed Pamela distractedly, "this is too dreadful! To think that
I should have a daughter who confesses herself at heart a murderess."

"Unhappily it is true, mother," said Vixen, moodily contrite. "For just
that one moment of my life I felt a murderous impulse--and from the
impulse to the execution is a very short step. I don't feel myself very
superior to the people who are hanged at Newgate, I assure you."

"What is to become of me?" inquired Mrs. Winstanley in abject
lamentation. "It is too hard that my own daughter should be a source of
misery in my married life, that she should harden her heart against the
best of stepfathers, and try, yes, actually try, to bring discord
between me and the husband I love. I don't know what I have done that I
should be so miserable."

"Dear mother, only be calm and listen to me," urged Violet, who was
very calm herself, with a coldly resolute air which presently obtained
ascendency over her agitated parent. "If I have been the source of
misery, that misery cannot too soon come to an end. I have long felt
that I have no place in this house--that I am one too many in our small
family. I feel now--yes, mamma, I feel and know that the same roof
cannot cover me and Captain Winstanley. He and I can no longer sit at
the same board, or live in the same house. That must end at once."

"What complaint can you have to make against him, Violet?" cried her
mother hysterically, and with a good deal more dabbing of the perfumed
handkerchief upon her fevered brow. "I am sure no father could be
kinder than Conrad would be to you if you would only let him. But you
have set yourself against him from the very first. It seems as if you
grudged me my happiness."

"It shall seem so no longer, mamma. I will cease to be a thorn in your
garland of roses," replied Vixen, with exceeding bitterness. "I will
leave the Abbey House directly any other home can be found for me. If
dear old McCroke would take care of me I should like to go abroad,
somewhere very far, to some strange place, where all things would be
different and new to me," continued Vixen, unconsciou