"And dishonestly towards myself," cried Lesbia indignantly. "And what of the remaining one thousand a year, father?"
Hale drooped his eyes suavely. "I take that for arranging that you get the money. Come, Lesbia, what do you say?"
"I decline," she retorted, quivering with indignation. "How dare you, who are my father, make such a proposal? Even if I were the true child, I should not give you one penny."
"Ha!" said Hale bitterly. "I thought so, and thus suggested a wild scheme to try you. I might have known."
"I believe that if I had fallen in with your scheme," cried Lesbia boldly, "that you would have arranged to carry it through. You have not the cross, however, and even if I consented----"
"I remember the look of the cross, and so do you. It could have been duplicated, my dear."
Lesbia looked at her father in pained astonishment, and then burst into bitter tears. "Oh, how I wish that I could respect you," she wailed.
Hale lifted his eyebrows. "Don't you?"
"No! How can I, when I find that you are so wicked?"
"I was only trying you," he said hastily. "Though it is true that had you shown a disposition to give me my fair share I might have endeavoured to get you this fortune. But, as it is, I see well that all my pains would be thrown away. You would see me--your own father--starve rather than let me have one penny."