She rose from her seat impulsively, and threw herself down on her knees before him, folding her white arms across his lap, gazing up into his face earnestly and lovingly. “Papa”--there was a wistful trouble in her voice, a sound as of unshed tears, a patient humility--“papa, you shall punish me as much as you please! I quite deserve it; I am willing to bear it. I will do anything you say without a murmur. I cannot tell you where I have been; I cannot tell you how I went away; but no one is to blame but myself. You know how wild and willful I have been. I brought all this upon myself, and I will bear the consequences. Punish me as you will, papa, only forgive me and love me again!” “Aline, this is the most sheer obstinacy,” he said, looking down at the lovely tear-stained face, for two great sparkling tears had flashed from under her dark lashes and rolled down upon her cheeks. “I do not wish to punish you--I only wish to forgive you, but you make it too hard for me by your willfulness. Tell me the truth, my darling.” He bent down suddenly and clasped her in his arms with inexpressible love and earnestness. “Tell me, Aline, where you have been; and if you have suffered wrong at the hands of any one, I will find means to punish that wrong in the most terrible fashion!” She slipped from his arms to the floor, and crouched there, with a strange trouble written all over her face. “Papa, I can tell you nothing--nothing!” she murmured, in hoarse, strained accents. All the tenderness in his face was displaced by sudden anger. “Aline, I no longer plead to you for your obedience,” he exclaimed, sharply--“I _command_ you to tell me the truth!” CHAPTER XXI. Aline sprung to her feet and regarded her father in consternation. His tenderness and love had given place to fierce anger and authority. His face was pale and stern, his lips set in a rigid line, his dark-blue eyes, so like her own, blazed ominously. “I _command you_,” he repeated, hoarsely. “Do not continue to trifle with me any longer, Aline. Tell me where you have been.” “Papa, I would tell you it I could, but I cannot do so,” she answered, gently, almost humbly, and retreating a pace from him toward her sister. But he waved her away from Effie’s side with sharp authority. “Stand back,” he said, “you have no right by your sister’s side until this mystery is explained away. Now, will you tell me the truth?” “I cannot,” she still repeated, and her lips began to quiver. She turned a piteous, pleading gaze upon her mother’s face. It touched a responsive chord in Mrs. Rodney’s heart. She who had always been harshest to Aline was tenderest now. She came forward and laid a soft, pleading hand on her husband’s arm. “Oh, Mr. Rodney, do not tease the child,” she said. “See how white and ill she looks! leave her alone now. She will tell us some time when she is better--will you not, my darling?”