ad 'er way."

"I won't have it," fumed Mr. Hearty again. "I've been very patient,
but--but--I won't have it."

"Yer can't stop a runaway 'orse with a notice-board," remarked Bindle
with unconscious philosophy.

"I'll thank you not to interfere in my affairs, Joseph. As I say, I've
been very patient and, and----" Mr. Hearty, whose face was deathly
white, broke off. "If," he continued, "if this--er--fellow has ruined
Millie, it's your fault."

Bindle made a movement towards his brother-in-law; his hand was raised
and there was murder smouldering in his eyes, when something seemed to
rush between them. Both men fell back a step and Mr. Hearty found
himself looking into a pair of blazing eyes that he failed to recognise
as those of his daughter.

"How dare you, father!" she panted, her young breast heaving, her face
flaming, and her eyes burning with suppressed fury. Bindle regarded
her with amazement and awe.

"How dare you say that of Charlie and me? I hope God will punish you
for it. You have always made me unhappy. You have never allowed me
the pleasures other girls have. If it hadn't been for mother I should
have run away long ago. It is fathers like you that make girls bad. I
won't have you blame Uncle Joe. I--I wish he was my father."

Mr. Hearty watched her as if fascinated. Her tempest of passion had
overwhelmed him. Bindle looked from Hearty to Mrs. Hearty, who was
sitting crying softly and comfortably to herself.

Millie looked round her in a dazed way, then produced from somewhere a
handkerchief, with which she proceeded to wipe her eyes. With great
deliberation she walked over to where her hat and jacket lay upon a
chair and proceeded to put them on.

"Millie, I forbid you to go out." Mr. Hearty was making a last
despairing effort.

Millie flashed a look of scorn at him.

"I am going away," she said quietly; "and I will never speak to you
again until you take back those words."

Bindle looked from father to daughter. He felt helpless, as if he were
the onlooker at some impending tragedy which he was powerless to avert.

"You are not of age, Millie, and you must obey your father." There was
a more persuasive note in Mr. Hearty's voice.

"I am going away, father," said Millie in the same colourless voice;
"and if you try and prevent me----" She did not finish.

"Good-night, mother." Millie went over to her mother and kissed her
tenderly. Mrs. Hearty continued to cry. She