ave spared me something," he said. "He has apparently undermined me
with my own daughter. He has evidently given you an opinion of me which
is his. I think I can understand why you have not spoken of these
--meetings."

"It is an inference that I expected," said Victoria. Then she lifted her
head and looked at him, and again he could not read her expression, for a
light burned in her eyes that made them impenetrable to him,--a light
that seemed pitilessly to search out and reveal the dark places and the
weak places within him which he himself had not known were there. Could
there be another standard by which men and women were measured and
judged?

Mr. Flint snapped his fingers, and turned and began to pace the room.

"It's all pretty clear," he said; "there's no use going into it any
farther. You believe, with the rest of them, that I'm a criminal and
deserve the penitentiary. I don't care a straw about the others," he
cried, snapping his fingers again. "And I suppose, if I'd had any sense,
I might have expected it from you, too, Victoria--though you are my
daughter."

He was aware that her eyes followed him.

"How many times have you spoken with Austen Vane?" she asked.

"Once," he exclaimed; "that was enough. Once."

"And he gave you the impression," she continued slowly, "that he was
deceitful, and dishonourable, and a coward? a man who would say things
behind your back that he dared not say to your face? who desired reward
for himself at any price, and in any manner? a man who would enter your
house and seek out your daughter and secretly assail your character?"

Mr. Flint stopped in the middle of the floor.

"And you tell me he has not done these things?"

"Suppose I did tell you so," said Victoria, "would you believe me? I have
no reason to think that you would. I am your daughter, I have been your
most intimate companion, and I had the right to think that you should
have formed some estimate of my character. Suppose I told you that Austen
Vane has avoided me, that he would not utter a word against you or in
favour of himself? Suppose I told you that I, your daughter, thought
there might be two sides to the political question that is agitating you,
and wished in fairness to hear the other side, as I intended to tell you
when you were less busy? Suppose I told you that Austen Vane was the soul
of honour, that he saw your side and presented it as ably as you have
presented it? that he had refrained in ma