She staggered, and fell, but caught herself upon her knees, and flinging her arms round his, lifted up her earnest imploring face, crying, "Father--father! papa-papa! for my sake--for your sake--for all our sakes; oh, give it me! give it to me!" "Give you what? what do you mean? what are you thinking about?" endeavouring to escape from her clasping arms. "Have done, and let me alone. Will you have done? will you let me alone?" fiercely, angrily endeavoring again to push her away. "No! never--never--never! till you give me--" "What?" "That!" "That!" he cried. Then as if recollecting himself, he endeavored, as it seemed, to master his agitation, and said more calmly, "Let me be, Ella! and if it will be any satisfaction to you, I will thrust the bottle into the fire. But, you foolish girl, what do you gain by closing one exit, when there are open ten thousand as good?" Disengaging himself from her relaxing arms, he walked up to the fire-place, and thrust the phial between the bars. It broke as he did so, and there was a strong smell of bitter almonds. She had risen from her knees. She followed him, and again laid that hand upon his arm--that soft, fair hand, of whose beauty he was wont to be so proud. It trembled violently now; but as if impelled with unwonted courage, and an energy inspired by the occasion, she ventured upon that which it was long since anyone ever had presumed to offer to Julian Winstanley--upon a plain-spoken remonstrance. "Papa," she said, "promise me that you will never--never--never again----" "Do what?" "Make an attempt upon your life--if I must speak out," she said, with a spirit that astonished him. "Attempt my life? What should I attempt my life for?" said he, and he glanced round the scene of luxury which surrounded him. He was continuing, in a tone of irony--but it would not do. He sank upon a sofa, and covering his face with his hands, groaned--"Yes--yes, Ella! all you say is true. I am a wretch who is unworthy to--and more--who _will_ not live." He burst forth at last with a loud voice; and his hands falling from his face, displayed a countenance dark with a sort of resolute despair. "No--no--no!--death, death!--annihilation--and forgetfulness! Why did you come in to interrupt me, girl?" he added, roughly seizing her by the arm. "Because--I know not--something--Oh! it was the good God, surely, who impelled me," she cried, bursting into tears. "Oh, papa! papa! Do not! do not! Think of us all--your girls--Cle. and I. You used to love us, papa----" "Do you know what has happened?" "Yes--no. I believe you have lost a great deal of money at cards." "Cards--was it? Let it be. It may as well be cards. Yes, child, I _have_ lost a large sum of money at cards--and more," he added, setting his teeth, and speaking in a sort of hissing whisper--"more than I can exactly pay."