The details given by Rupert of the conversation which had taken place in the Vicarage study shocked Dorinda profoundly. It was natural enough that her father, informed of an existing will which would give him an estate, should try and gain possession of it, so as to secure what he believed to be his rights. Dorinda did not blame him for taking up so reasonable a position; but she was horrified to think that he should accuse an innocent man of committing the crime. It was wholly impossible that Mallien could believe Rupert to be guilty. He had known the Squire intimately for twenty-five and more years, therefore he was well aware how strictly honorable Rupert was in every way. Moreover, Hendle had always treated his cousin with consistent kindness, having again and again given him sums of money, large and small, which had never been repaid. Even if Rupert were guilty, it was cowardly of Mallien to threaten; but, seeing that Rupert was innocent--and Dorinda was well assured in her own mind that her father knew him to be so--the attack was cowardly in the extreme. If the girl had little affection for her father before, she had still less for him now. What troubled her throughout the night was the question of speaking, or of not speaking, frankly to her father. He had withheld from her the more serious portion of his interview with Rupert, and Dorinda was strongly inclined, not only to intimate that she knew about the accusation, but to tell her father how strongly she disapproved of his conduct. More than this, she wished to state that she was on the side of her lover. Dorinda was straightforward herself; and greatly desired that Mallien should be straightforward also. To bring such rectitude into being, plain speaking was necessary. Yet the girl hesitated to broach the subject, knowing only too well her father's temper, his tricky nature and his unscrupulous greed. But at breakfast, her hesitation to make trouble was ended by Mallien himself, as he began to speak furiously the moment she laid her hand on the coffee-pot. "This is a nice thing, Dorinda," he raged, without returning her morning greeting. "You went out last night and did not return until after nine; in fact, it was nearer ten. Don't deny it. You slipped out when I was busy in my study, but I came to ask you something and found you had gone out. What do you mean by such conduct?" Dorinda lifted her eyebrows. "I am not aware that there is anything strange about my conduct. I have been out late before. I am quite capable of looking after myself, I assure you, father." "I don't think so," retorted Mallien, bristling with anger; "and I don't like such underhand conduct." "I never behave in an underhand way," returned Dorinda, her color rising and her eyes flashing. "You know that quite well." "You slipped out last night and slipped in, without telling me." "There was no need to tell you."