It was late when Bernard Cameron left Doris at the garden-gate of her home--so late indeed that the girl hurried up the path to the house with not a few misgivings. How angry her mother would be with her for staying out so late with Bernard! Doris was amazed that she had dared to linger with him so long; but time had sped by on magic wings, and it so quickly became late that evening. Well, she must make the best of it, beg pardon and promise not to offend in that way again. And perhaps when her mother knew what had been taking place, and that she and Bernard intended to marry when he had obtained his degree and was ready to launch out into his life-work, she would be pleased and would forgive everything. For Mrs. Anderson admired Bernard very much, and had been heard to say that she almost envied Mrs. Cameron her son. "He will be mother’s son-in-law in time," thought Doris. "I am sure she will like that." Doris had reached the hall door now. It was locked, and she hesitated about ringing the bell, being dismayed at the unusual darkness of the house. Why, it must be even later than she had imagined, for the servants appeared to have fastened up the house and gone to bed! The top windows which belonged to them were the only ones that were lighted. No one appeared to be sitting up for her, and, not liking to ring the bell, she went round to the French windows of the drawing-room, in the hope that she might be able to open one of them. But they were closed and in darkness. Then, going a little farther, Doris turned to see if the library window would admit her, and found, to her satisfaction, that a gleam of light from behind its curtains revealed the fact that it was an inch open and that some one was within. The girl was about to open wide the window and enter the room, when her attention was arrested by hearing her father exclaim, in tones of agony: "I am ruined! I am quite, _quite_ ruined! And what’s more I’ve speculated with Bernard’s money--and it’s all gone! It’s all gone! And to-morrow they’ll all know! Everything will come out--and I shall be arrested!" "Oh, John! John! What shall we do!" It was her mother’s voice, speaking in anguish. Tremblingly poor Doris drew back, away from the window, feeling overwhelmed with horror and consternation. What had she heard? Bernard, her lover, ruined by her father! She felt quite stunned. How long she stayed there in the dark, afraid to enter by the library window lest her appearance just then should grieve her parents, and uncertain what to do, she never knew; but at last she found herself standing under her own bedroom window.