"Yes, Harry," she said, in the same cold mechanical way. "Let me have your chain and rings, and any other trinket that will fetch money. Must have something to live upon till this trouble has blown over. You see I am penniless; I am not a thief. I shall soon get right again, and you shall have all these things a dozen times over." She suppressed a sigh. "Be quick then--there's a good girl! I've no time to waste." Louise moved across the room to the drawers, and took from the top a small rosewood box, which she placed upon the table. Then taking her watch from her waist, she was in the act of unfastening the chain, when there was the sound of a closing door below, and her father's voice, sounding loud and excited, as it called her by name. Volume 2, Chapter IX. IN DEFENCE OF HIS YOUNG. "Louise! Where is Louise?" The step on the stairs sounded like that of a younger man; and as the door was tried, Harry had reached the window, from whence he was about to climb, when he fancied he saw some one below, and he hastily closed the casement, and drew back trembling. "Louise! open this door." "No, no," whispered Harry. "He must not know I am here." "Not know?" "Am I to break this door?" was thundered from the other side. Harry glanced once more at the window. It was fancy. Nne was below now that he could see; and he was in the act of unfastening it when there was a crash, the door flew open, and his father strode into the room. It did not seem to be the same man, and Harry shrank from the fierce, erect, angry figure which approached. "As I might have guessed. You coward! So you would strip your sister of what money and jewels she has and then escape!" Harry stood before him silent and with his head averted. "You did not counsel this flight, Louise?" "No, father," she said, in a low voice full of pain; and she looked from one to the other, as if mentally stunned, and unable to realise the force of all that was taking place. "I thought not. You abject, miserable wretch!" Harry started, and gazed half in fear, half in wonder, at the stern, commanding figure before him. "It--it was to save you all from disgrace." Vine burst into a discordant laugh. "From disgrace--to save us from disgrace? And is this part of your childish aunt's teaching?" "Father! Pray!" whispered Louise, rousing herself and clinging to his arm. "Silence, my child!" he cried. "I am not angry with you. I blame myself. Weak and indulgent. Tolerating that foolish woman's whims, that her old age might pass peacefully away, I have allowed all her follies to go; but I did not believe these seeds could strike so deep a root. To save us from disgrace! So this is being the aristocratic gentleman of French descent! The man who would prefer death to dishonour--the man who scorns to sully his hands by embarking in some honest trade! And I, wrapped in my pursuits, riding my weak hobby, have let things go till they have ended thus!"