"I don't think it is so very difficult to gather what we mean," replied Rupert coolly. "You never intended to give me a penny had you got the money, so why should I give an income to you?"
"That's different."
"Maybe. Anyhow, you will have to live on what you have."
"I am Dorinda's father."
"I don't look on you as my father," said the undutiful daughter. "You never have behaved like a father to me, and now that I have Rupert to look after me, I wish to see as little of you as possible."
"And this is my child," moaned Mallien, much cast down.
Dorinda laughed. "It won't do, father," she said calmly. "As Mr. Leigh declared on his deathbed, you had every opportunity of acting honorably. How you have acted I leave to your conscience to say."
"I won't," said Rupert sharply. "See here, Mallien. I am a kind-hearted man and wish to help everyone, but for me to give you money for your wickedness would be wrong."
"What wickedness?"
"If you will have it; you threatened to turn me out of this house as a pauper, and you have done your best to prove true a document which you knew to be forged. If you had triumphed, Dorinda and I would have been thrown into the street without a penny. Because you have failed, you come whimpering to me for money. You shan't have any. As you are my wife's father, I should have allowed you enough to live on had you been without an income. But as you enjoy five hundred a year of your own you can exist on that. And, as people here are not very well disposed toward you, I advise you to go away."