"I want to make him sing," she cried, turning on them her bright and smiling face. "Did you ever see so beautiful a colour, papa? I _hope_ he is not too beautiful to sing." But there was no answering smile on the faces of either father or mother, only an increased solemnity. Lord Acorn, waving his hand towards the bird as if he would, wave off a too frivolous toy, touched her arm and pointed to a chair. "Sit down, Adela." She turned as white as death. Lady Acorn opened her lips to begin, a great wrath evidently upon them, but her lord and master imperatively waved his hand to her for silence, as he had just waved away the frivolous bird, and addressed his daughter. "What is to become of you, Adela?" She neither spoke nor moved. She sat back in an armchair, with her white and terror-stricken face. Her teeth began to chatter. "How came you to do it?" he continued. "To--to--do what?" she gasped. "To do what!" screamed out Lady Acorn, utterly unable to control her tongue and her reproaches longer--"why, to rifle your husband's cheque-book of a cheque, and fill it in, and forge the firm's signature, and despatch that unsuspicious baby, Charles Cleveland, to cash it." "Who--who says I did that?" asked Adela, making one last, hopeless, desperate effort to defend herself. "Who----" "Betsy, if you can't let me speak, you had better go away for a few minutes," cried Lord Acorn, arresting a fresh burst of eloquence from his wife. "That you did do this thing, Adela, is known now; some of the notes have been traced to you, all the particulars have been traced, and Charles Cleveland has confessed to them. Any denial you could attempt would be more idle than the chirping of that bird." "Charles has confessed to them?" she whispered, taken aback by this blow. Nothing, save his confession, could have brought it absolutely home to her. "Did you set up a fantastic hope that he would keep silence to the end, and go to his hanging to save you?" demanded Lady Acorn, defying her lord's wish to have the whole ball to himself. "Proofs came out against you, Madam Adela, as your father says; they were carried to Charles Cleveland, and he could but admit the truth." "_Why_ did you do this terrible thing? That my daughter whom I have so loved, should be capable of sullying herself with such disgrace!" broke off Lord Acorn, with a wail. In good truth, it had been a blow to him, and one he had never bargained for. To play a little at Lady Sanely's for amusement, was one thing; he had, so to say, winked at that; but to _gamble_ and to steal money to pay her gambling debts, was quite another. "Adela, I could almost wish I had died before hearing of it." Adela burst into tears. "I wanted the money so badly," she sobbed, hiding her face with her trembling hands. "I owed it--a great deal--to people at Lady Sanely's. I was at my wits' end, and Mr. Grubb would not give me any more. Oh, papa, forgive me! Can't it be hushed up?"