Angel, having quickly undressed and said her prayers, which were merely vain repetitions that night, jumped into bed, and lay thinking gloomily of the events of the last few hours. She recalled the look of passion she had seen on her brother's face when he had struck her, and told herself she never, never could forgive him that blow. She was certain there was not the least spark of affection in his heart for her. He only treated her well when he wanted her to do something for him. He did not really love her. All this she kept repeating to herself over and over again; and her anger against him did not soften into better or kinder feelings to-night, on the contrary, she nursed the resentment which the blow he had struck her had planted in her heart, and exaggerated every little failing of his which she had regarded as trifling before. How slowly the time crept on as she lay awake. She heard Mrs. Vallance and Polly ascending the back stairs, and a short while later her father and uncle bade each other good-night on the landing outside her door. The hall clock struck eleven!—twelve!—and still Angel tossed restlessly about, her mind too disordered to admit of her sleeping. A feeling of utter desolation crept over her as she thought that, in all probability, she was the only member of the household who was awake; a sense of intense loneliness occupied her sore heart; she found no consolation in prayer as she usually did, not then realizing, poor child, that her unforgiving spirit stood between her and God; and, at last, she indulged in a fit of weeping, and finally sobbed herself to sleep. Meanwhile, Gerald was lying awake too, thinking uneasily of his quarrel with his sister. Never had he known her so apparently hard-hearted before; certainly never had he begged for her forgiveness in vain until to-night. "It was cruel and wicked of me to hit her," the boy acknowledged to himself, "but she might have believed I was speaking the truth when I told her I was sorry. I might have known she wouldn't have sneaked to father about me. She was never a tell-tale. Oh, dear, how frightened I was when father asked me what I had been doing with my money! I suppose it was wrong to deceive him, but what could I do? I did hope to be able to pay Angel that eighteen pence to-day. If only I had won that bet! I've half a mind not to bet any more; but then, I must pay Hope what I owe him, and I must get the money somehow." Gerald sighed, and wished regretfully he had never been tempted to bet at all, and what with the thought of his quarrel with his sister and his other difficulties, he was quite as long in getting to sleep as Angel was, so that it was past midnight before either of the young people at Haresdown House obtained any rest that night. CHAPTER XXI Miss Goodwin's Brother