"Angel," he said, carefully lowering his voice so as not to disturb Mr. Bailey, "I'm so sorry I hit you, I am indeed! I thought you had been sneaking about me to father, and that riled me; but I know now that it was Uncle Edward. I can't think why he need have interfered!" he concluded in aggrieved tones. Angel turned her head slowly and faced him. In the dim light he saw that her countenance was quivering with some strong emotion; her eyes were dry now, and there was a strange, hard glitter in them. "Don't touch me!" she cried sharply, shaking off his hand from her arm. "And I wish you'd leave me alone, and not bother me!" "But I want to talk to you," he objected, surprised at her curt words, so different from her usually gentle mode of speech. "I'm so very sorry I struck you, Angel," he continued in a coaxing tone; "won't you forgive me?" "No," she responded, "I won't. Why should I? And I don't believe you're sorry! I wanted to explain to you that I had not been telling tales to father, and you wouldn't listen to me. Do you think I cared for the money, except that I wanted to give Dora Mickle a present? I'm not a sneak, and I'm not a coward like you are, or a—a storyteller!" Angel was trembling with passion. She pointed to her crimson cheek, and her voice trembled with indignation as she added decisively, "No, I won't forgive you, I won't!" "Oh, come, Angel, don't be nasty," he said soothingly; "it's not like you to be that. You know I did not mean to hurt you. And I'm really very sorry—very!" "You're not!" she retorted. "You don't care a bit! I wish you'd go away and leave me in peace!" "I will—only say you forgive me first!" "No; if I did say so, it would not be true. I don't forgive you. You had no right to strike me, even if I had told tales of you to father. No one but a coward would have done it. Do you think either of the Mickle boys would dare to hit Dinah or Dora? Not they! And they wouldn't want to! But you—" Angel's voice ceased suddenly. She was actually too enraged to proceed. Gerald was aghast at the resentment in her glance; he looked at her with dismay. Was this his gentle, sweet-tempered sister, who was regarding him with such hard, unforgiving eyes? He was positively struck dumb with amazement. Suddenly a sob broke from Angel's lips, which sound encouraged Gerald to draw nearer; but she stepped back from him, and bade him keep his distance. "Don't come nearer to me," she said, with a bitter little laugh that was full of pain; "how do I know but that you mean to strike me again?" "Oh, Angel, you know better than that!" he remonstrated. "I did it in temper!" "That's no excuse!" "No, no, of course not; but do forgive me, and let us be friends again. We never quarrelled like this before!" "Well, it's not my fault that we've quarrelled now," she reminded him significantly.