"He evidently thinks so," Mr. Willis responded drily. "But what does he do with it all?" he continued, glancing in a puzzled fashion at Mr. Bailey, who shook his head, evidently unable to solve that problem. "I must have a serious talking to him, and hear what he has to say for himself." "You won't be hard on him, will you?" Angel pleaded, for she was conscious that her father was deeply annoyed. "I know he ought not to—" "Pray don't try to make excuses for him!" Mr. Willis broke in, with unusual sharpness in his tone. "I see one thing very plainly, that he stands a great chance of being ruined by his sister." "Oh, father!" she exclaimed distressfully. "I am aware it is your affection for him that makes you so foolishly give in to his wishes," Mr. Willis proceeded, "but it's a great pity. Why cannot you stand up for your own rights? You are older than Gerald, and yet—there, child, don't look so hurt! One would think I was unkind to you!" "Oh no, no!" Angel replied earnestly. "Oh, father, have I done very wrong? I did think that perhaps I ought to tell you how much money Gerald was spending, but if I had, he would have said I was a sneak, and, of course, I did not want to get him into trouble." "You should have told me your brother was in the habit of borrowing your money and never paying it back; he has not behaved with common honesty. Your silence was a mistake." They had by this time reached the entrance to Haresdown House, where they found Gerald himself waiting for them. His father laid a hand on his arm, and briefly requested him to come to the studio as he had something important to say to him. Angel and Mr. Bailey were now left alone together. The former's face expressed the deepest concern and uneasiness, whilst the latter's ruddy, countenance looked exceedingly grave. "Father is very angry," Angel said in a sorrowful tone. "Oh, how I wish you had not told him!" "My dear child," he replied earnestly, "it was right he should know—for Gerald's sake. Has your love for your brother quite blinded you to what the consequences of your always hiding his misdoings must inevitably be? Your father spoke truly when he said Gerald stands a great chance of being ruined by you." "Oh, Uncle Edward, you don't understand! I promised mother I would be loving and patient with him. Neither you nor father know how I feel!" And she turned from him, her eyes swimming with tears, and rushed into the house, and upstairs to her own room, where she threw herself down by the bedside and wept without restraint. It was so bitterly hard to be blamed for trying to shield Gerald.