"I'm not--I'm not, indeed," says Rylton. "Nothing could excuse his
refusing you that one puppy. But in other ways he is not unkind to
you?"

"Yes, he is; he won't let me go anywhere."

"He has let you come here."

"Just because your mother is _Lady_ Rylton!" says the girl, with
infinite scorn. She looks straight at him. "My uncle is ashamed
because we are nobodies--because his father earned his money by
trade. He hates everyone because of that. My father," proudly, "was
above it all."

"I think I should like to have known your father," says Rylton,
admiring the pride in her gray eyes.

"It would have done you good," returns she thoughtfully. She pauses,
as if still thinking, and then, "As for me, I have not been good at
all since I lost him."

"One can see that," says Rylton. "Crime sits rampant in your eyes."

At this she laughs too; but presently she stops short, and turns to
him.

"It is all very well for you to laugh!" says she ruefully. "You have
not to go home next week to live again with Uncle George!"