"Yes, that is what she said. Give me the book, Jewel!" Mrs. Fielding cried, in wild impatience; but again the clever, wicked girl refused.
"Not yet," she said; and suddenly turned on Flower, pointing a scornful finger at her wan, white face. "Get up; you look like a fool kneeling down there!" she exclaimed, roughly. "Sit down there in that chair; mamma is going to tell you who and what you are."
Flower dragged her trembling form up from the floor, and obeyed, looking toward Mrs. Fielding with wistful, frightened eyes.
"Now, mamma!" Jewel cried, eagerly; but the wretched woman uttered a low moan of distress and sunk like a log to the floor.
Instinctively Flower rose to go to her assistance, but Jewel pushed her back roughly into her chair.
"Do not you dare touch her!" she exclaimed, with such a lightning-like glance that Flower fell abashed into the chair.
Jewel knelt by her mother a minute; then rose, and said:
"It is nothing but a faint; she will come to herself presently. In the meantime, I will tell you the story of my mother's ruined life, for which your mother is to blame."
"My mother?" Flower echoed, bewilderedly.
"Yes," Jewel answered; and pointing at Mrs. Fielding, she said: "That woman is no relation of yours; but you are my half-sister—made so by the sin of our father."