“But why? Why should you tell me?” she gasped, with something like dismay. “I don’t belong to the Marquis of Severn’s family.” Her father stifled a groan. “Suppose I were to tell you that you did?” he said in a low voice. The recollection of her interview with Captain Mauleverer rushed over Belle. She shrank back and raised her hands as though for protection. “No; this--this isn’t the secret, is it?” she whispered. “Listen,” was the answer. “I have just spoken to Gerald, and he tells me that he only delivered half of the message he was to have given you this evening. Do you think you can bear to hear the rest?” Again she held up her hands with that pathetic, deprecating gesture. “Wait! Don’t tell it to me too quickly! Give me time to think a little, won’t you?” “Poor child!” He turned away his head, unable to face the sight of her distress, and silence reigned for a minute. Belle was the first to speak. “Captain Mauleverer told me that my father was still alive. That is true, then?” “Yes, that is true.” “And that--that-- Oh, tell it me as kindly as you can!” The marquis caught his breath. “Your father is a damned villain!” he cried out. “Don’t speak so harshly as that!” she implored. “Don’t make him out worse than you can help. Remember, I am his daughter, after all.” “You are too good for him, Belle. He doesn’t deserve that you should call yourself his daughter.” She looked up quickly. “You know him, then?” “Yes, I know him.” “Then--is he a relation of Lord Severn’s?” “He is Lord Severn.” “Ah!” In the midst of her astonishment a bitter thought came into her mind. “Now I begin to understand. So that is why Lord Severn left the house the moment I arrived, without seeing me.” “Yes, that is the reason.” “And why was I asked to come here, then? Why did he let his wife bring me here to sing for hire in my own father’s house? Oh, it was cruel, cruel!” The marquis shook beneath the reproach. “He did not know; the marchioness arranged it without telling him. Your father knew nothing of it till you were here.” “And the marchioness?” she demanded, with sudden fire. “The marchioness has never heard that you are his daughter. It has been kept a secret from every one.” The expression of Belle’s face became hard. “I see. Lord Severn is a great nobleman, I suppose, and he was ashamed of the poor little music-hall singer whom he had cast off as soon as she was born, and whom he never wished to see. So that is why he ordered his nephew to speak to me, to warn me off the premises, lest I should embarrass him before his noble wife and daughter. And now he has sent you to complete the work.” She rose to her feet in bitter indignation. “Well, you may tell my father that he has no need to fear. I will not trouble him; I will go.” Every word stung the marquis like the knot of a lash. “Stop!” he cried, passionately. “What are you thinking of? You cannot go like this.”