FOR a while after Gerald had locked the door against his sister, he paced up and down his room in a state of great excitement, his heart filled with anger and bitterness. It had not occurred to Mr. Willis to explain how he had become aware that Gerald had been in the habit of borrowing Angel's pocket-money when he had taken the boy severely to task upon the subject, and had requested to be informed how the money had been spent. Gerald had hesitated, and finally had said that he really did not know how the money had gone, it had slipped through his fingers somehow; and, on the spur of the moment, he had owned to an insatiable appetite for sweetmeats and ices, artfully insinuating that the latter delicacies were very dear. He had been ashamed of himself for thus prevaricating, for though certainly he had spent a good bit at the "tuck-shop," it was not there that he had parted with most of his money; but he had felt that he never could own the whole truth. He had listened patiently to all his father had had to say, and had promised he would never borrow Angel's money from her again. Mr. Willis had not scrupled to call his son's conduct both dishonest, and dishonourable; and Gerald, though he could but admit the justice of his father's anger, yet blamed Angel for having, as he considered, brought about so much unpleasantness. By-and-by, however, his wrath cooled down somewhat, and he began to feel a little uneasy at the thought of the blow he had given his sister. He had never struck her before; but then, as he quickly reminded himself, she had never before told tales of him; and, after all, he had only slapped her face; it was not his fist that had dealt the blow. Nevertheless, he was perfectly aware that it had been a cowardly, cruel act to strike a girl. Presently he sat down on the edge of the bed, and fell to wondering how Angel would act now. Would she go and tell their father how she had been served? He hardly thought she would do that. A crowd of memories of different occasions when she had shielded him from the blame and punishments which would have been the inevitable results of his misdeeds but for her interference, surged through his brain, and reminded him how often she had been better to him than he had deserved. And how had he treated her in return? Gerald's slumbering conscience was slow to awaken; still, some knowledge of the ingratitude and cruelty of his behaviour came to him then, as he reflected how he had promised Angel solemnly that she should have her eighteen pence returned to her that day, and she was naturally disappointed that he had not kept his word. He had reached this point in his meditations when he heard footsteps on the landing; the following second there was a tap upon the door.