Stella stood with two red patches on her cheeks, with her mouth open, with her eyes staring before the easy and complacent old gentleman in his chair. He was, no doubt, conscious of the passion and horror with which she was regarding him, for he shifted the paper and the spectacles a little nervously to give himself a countenance; but he took no notice otherwise, and maintained his easy position--one leg crossed over the other, his foot swinging a little--even after she burst forth. “Papa, do you say this to me--to _me_? And I have given him my word, and I love him, though you don’t know what that means. Papa, can you look me in the face--me, Stella, and dare to say that you have sent my Charlie away?” “My dear,” said Mr. Tredgold, “he ain’t your Charlie, and never will be. He’s Sir Charles Somers, Bart., a fine fellow, but I don’t think we shall see him here again, and I can look my little Stella quite well in the face.” He did not like to do it, though. He gave her one glance, and then turned his eyes to his paper again. “Papa,” cried Stella, stamping her foot, “I won’t have it! I shall not take it from you! Whatever you say, he shall come back here. I won’t give him up, no, not if you should shut me up on bread and water--not if you should put me in prison, or drag me by the hair of my head, or kill me! which, I think, is what you must want to do.” “You little hussy! You never had so much as a whipping in your life, and I am not going to begin now. Take her away, Katie. If she cries till Christmas she won’t change me. Crying’s good for many things, but not for business. Stella, you can go away.” “Oh, papa, how can you say Stella, and be so cruel!” Stella threw herself down suddenly by his side and seized his hand, upon which she laid down her wet cheek. “You have always done everything for Stella. Never--never has my papa refused me anything. I am not used to it. I can’t bear it! Papa, it is _me_ whose heart you are breaking. Papa, _me_! Stella, it is Stella!” “Kate, for goodness’ sake take her away. It is no use. She is not going to come over me. Stella’s a very good name for anything else, but it’s not a name in business. Go away, child. Take her away. But, Katie, if there’s anything else she would like now, a new carriage, or a horse, or a bracelet, or a lot of dresses, or anything--anything in that way----” Stella drew herself up to her full height; she dried her eyes; she turned upon her father with that instinct of the drama which is so strong in human nature. “I scorn all your presents; I will take nothing--nothing, as long as I live, you cruel, cruel father,” she cried.