"Perhaps it can be mended," suggested the kind-hearted colonel, coming forward. He was really touched by his wife's distress, and also not a little uneasy about Helen's share in the disaster. "Mended!" repeated Mrs. Desmond with rising irritation. "Do you suppose that I would have a piece of _mended_ china in my drawing-room? No, the mischief is irreparable--irreparable." As she spoke she gathered up the broken fragments tenderly, while a tear fell upon her white hand. "Not irreparable, surely, my dear," persisted the colonel with characteristic want of tact. "I have seen plenty of figures like these in old china shops. To-morrow, first thing, Helen shall make amends for her carelessness by--" "Ah, Helen!" interrupted Mrs. Desmond, who had regarded the first part of the colonel's sentence as a confession of ignorance too gross for argument, but who was recalled by the mention of Helen's name to the enormity of the girl's offence. "Helen--" There was a moment's pause. Mrs. Desmond was half-astonished at the bitterness of her own feelings, and felt the necessity of controlling herself. She looked up and saw Helen watching her from the open doorway with an expression of scarcely veiled triumph. It was the last straw. If the girl's face had expressed even fear or shrinking, Mrs. Desmond's better nature would have been touched; but there was something of insolence in her stepdaughter's defiant attitude that exasperated the usually self-controlled woman. "Helen," she said, and her voice was hard, "you have been exceedingly clumsy: a clumsy woman is intolerable. I object to harsh measures, but something must be done to make you more careful in future. For the present, go to your own room and remain--. What is that you are carrying?" she cried with a sudden change of voice, catching sight of the violin which Helen held behind her. The faintest expression of anxiety flitted over Helen's face, but she made no answer. "Show it to me at once. How dare you bring parcels into the drawing-room?" "I am going to take it away now," returned the girl insolently without moving, for an evil spirit seemed to possess her, and she was absolutely gloating over her stepmother's evident discomfiture. "I insist upon seeing it," went on Mrs. Desmond; while the colonel, murmuring "Helen" in a tone of remonstrance, walked over to the fireplace. "You can see it, and hear it too!" cried Helen desperately, her passion blazing out at her stepmother's authoritative tone; and as she spoke she placed the violin on her shoulder, and with the bow drew a long discordant wail from its strings. Mrs. Desmond started forward, but recovering herself by a violent effort she stopped and put her hands to her ears. Helen dropped her right hand by her side, with the other still holding the violin in position, and regarded her stepmother with a flushed, triumphant face.