"A good reason! Is he not quiet now, with the woman Jenkins at his side? You will perhaps allow that his relatives--his family--have some right to attend to him during his illness; and I must really say very plainly--since you compel me to do so--that I should prefer to see him nursed by a professional nurse, and not by a young girl whose very presence here is a scandal to all propriety." Cynthia drew herself up to her full height. "I think I can scarcely understand you," she said. "I am acting under the doctor's orders, and am here by his authority. There can be no scandal in that. When Mr. Lepel is conscious and can spare me, I will go." "Spare you! He will be only too glad to spare you!" cried Mrs. Vane. "I do not know what your connection with him has been--I do not want to know"--the insinuation conveyed by her tone and manner was felt by Cynthia to be in itself an insult; "but this I am fully convinced of, that my poor brother could not possibly have known that you were the daughter of that wretched criminal, Andrew Westwood--the man who murdered Sydney Vane! If he had known that, he would never have wished to see your face again!" She saw the girl wince, as if she had received a cut with a whip, and for a moment she triumphed. The General, who was just inside the room, listening anxiously to the conversation, now came to her aid. He stepped forward hurriedly, his face growing crimson, his lower jaw working, his eyes seeming to turn in his head as he heard the words. "What is that? What--this young person the daughter of Westwood the murderer? Abominable! What business has she here? It is an insult to us all!" Cynthia turned upon him like a wild animal at bay, defiance flashing in her mournful magnificent dark eyes. "My presence insults you less than the words Mrs. Vane has spoken insult me!" she cried, tossing back her head with the proud stag-like gesture which Hubert had learned to know so well. "She is more cruel than I ever thought one woman could be to another! She must know that I have nothing to reproach myself with--that my life is as pure as hers--purer, if all one hears is true." She could not deny herself the vengeful taunt, but was recalled to her better self when she saw Florence blanch under it and suddenly draw back. "But about myself I do not choose to speak. Of my father I will say one word--to you, sir, who I am sure will be just at least to one who craves only for justice--my father, sir, was innocent of the crime for which he was condemned; and some day his innocence will be manifested before all eyes. Mr. Lepel knows--he knew before he was taken ill--that I am Andrew Westwood's daughter. I told him a few days ago."