"I am not going to scream," replied Dorinda, looking aside and speaking rather rapidly. "What on earth makes my father say such a ridiculous thing? On the face of it, such an accusation is absurd."
"Your father doesn't seem to think so, dear. And if Inspector Lawson learned what was at stake with regard to this will, he would not think so either. Remember that I had every reason to steal it, even at the cost of a life."
"What rubbish," declared the girl, vehemently. "You would never, never, never----"
"No," said Rupert positively, and his heart leaped when she defended him. "I would never save my property at the cost of a crime, however small or however necessary. You know, Dorinda, that I would let everything go rather than lose my honor and my good name. Your father thinks otherwise, so he is determined to get my money and my position, and my good name into the bargain."
"I can't believe it, I can't! I can't!" gasped the girl, overwhelmed. "My father may be selfish, but he wouldn't surely----"
"But he has. He accuses me of committing the crime, and has given me one week to think over the matter. If I come to his terms, he will shut up Mrs. Beatson's possible chatter and will hold his own tongue."
"Did he offer you safety on those terms?"
"He did, and I refused them."
Dorinda flung her arms round his neck and her lips sought his. "I knew you would; I knew you would. Oh! don't say anything more, Rupert. I am glad you told me, as I now know where I stand--where you stand. We have a week to think over things, and in that week much may happen. God will never permit such an injustice. Cheer up, dearest"--she kissed him again--"it will all come out right; it will all come out right."
"I hope so," said Rupert, doubtfully, and adjusting the cloak on her shoulders. "But what will you say to your father?"