"I want that girl disgraced as an accomplice," said the elder woman, grinding her teeth and pointing towards Lesbia. Charvington put his arm round Lesbia's waist or she would have fallen. "I shall not allow it, Helen," he said quietly. "Lesbia is innocent. Woman, have you no pity for the poor thing; surely she is suffering enough already, in finding out that her father is a thief." "Her father," jeered Lady Charvington insultingly. "Oh, yes, her father," she moved swiftly towards the library door. "If you get back my jewels I shall hold my tongue, for reasons which you may guess, Charvington. But don't let that creature come near me, or I shall--I shall--oh." Lady Charvington could scarcely contain herself. "How I hate you; hate you. I wish you were dead with all my heart and soul, you--you----" What she was about to say in her furious anger Lesbia could not guess. But whatever it was she never uttered the epithet. Charvington suddenly moved towards his wife and towering above her glared into her eyes. "If you say another word I'll kill you." Lady Charvington quailed. "You are quite capable of doing so," she breathed undauntedly; "I'm not afraid of you. But clear my house of that," and with a jeering laugh, she pointed at the trembling girl and left the room. "What--what does she mean?" gasped Lesbia, sinking into a chair, her courage all gone. "What have I done? How can I help my father--my father--oh Lord Charvington!" and she broke down weeping bitterly. "Hush! hush!" He stood over her, patting her heaving shoulder. "She doesn't know what she is saying. I'll see that she holds her tongue and Bertha also. Nothing will ever be known of your father's complicity in this crime." "But what does it mean?" asked Lesbia, lifting a tear-stained face. "God knows," muttered Charvington moodily, "I have been mistaken in your father, my dear." "But--but you don't blame me?" "No," he declared emphatically, "a thousand times no. My dear, I love you as if you were my own child, and I shall never, never believe any harm of you in any way. I can keep my wife's tongue silent, but I can do no more. You must return to Marlow, until such time as I can arrange further about your marriage with George Walker." "Oh," Lesbia wailed and stretched her arms, "I cannot marry him now. Who would marry the daughter of a thief? Father was one of the thieves who robbed Mr. Tait's strong-room." "At Tait's request remember," interpolated Charvington quickly. Lesbia brushed away the speech. "Oh, what does it matter even if they are all thieves. But George must have known the dreadful truth and so he will not renew our engagement. I did not understand him before; I do now." "There! there!" Charvington patted her shoulder again, "don't worry. All will come right, I am sure, and in a way which you do not expect." Lesbia looked up with sudden hope. "You know of something."