“But why have they to be punished?” Stella asked, feeling curiously calm and remote from them all.
“They must be made examples of, dear. They must n't be let loose on society,” said Sir Oliver. “It's a duty to one's country, a duty to one's neighbours. I 'm afraid you don't understand, Stella. I implore you to leave this matter in our hands.”
It was strange how the girl whom they had reared in blank ignorance of life remained supreme arbiter of the situation. She said:
“You are afraid that if she were set free, she would rob somebody else?”
“Of course she would,” said Sir Oliver, testily.
“Would you, Eliza?” asked Stellamaris.
Thus appealed to, the guilty little wretch threw herself on the ground, in horrible abasement, at Stella's feet.
“Oh, Miss Stella, don't let them put me in prison! For God's sake! don't let them put me in prison! I 'll never do it again. I swear I won't. Save me, Miss Stella!”—She clutched the white skirts—“Don't let them send me to prison.”
She continued in terrified reiteration. Stella felt an icicle in her bosom in place of a heart. She had never before seen humanity lowered to the depths.
“Why did you do it?”