thing, and yet I am not
guilty."

"No one was talking of guilt, I imagine," answered the General, with a
slight flush of the forehead. "The whole thing is certainly an
annoyance, and in one sense, a misfortune, perhaps. But guilt is an
unfeminine word, and I regret that you could have used it."

Lina wrung her hands in desperation.

"I could not help it. This misery has found me so unprepared."

"Misery! Indeed, young lady, it seems to me that few women would
consider it so great an evil to have the blood of a Harrington in her
veins," said the General, stung in the inner depths of his vanity by her
words, and losing all pity in his wounded self-love.

"But I am a Harrington without a name--a daughter without parent--a
beggar upon the charity of one to whom my existence is an insult! Would
you have me grateful for this?" cried Lina, with all the grief and fire
of her young nature in arms against the cold-blooded composure of the
man who so quietly called her child.

"I would have you prudent, silent, and at all events, more lady-like in
your expressions; with well-bred people, a scene is always revolting,
and it pains me that a daughter of mine can be led into the intemperance
of action and speech that has marked this interview."

The General glanced with a look of cool criticism at the excited girl as
he spoke. Her pale, tearful face, the dishevelled masses of hair falling
upon her shoulders, and the almost crouching attitude that a sudden
sense of shame had left her in, outraged his fastidious taste, and the
old habits of a life swept over his new-born tenderness. Feeling, if not
elegantly expressed, always shocked the old gentleman, and for the
moment, shame and tears had swept Lina's beauty all away. She might have
been picturesque to an artist, but General Harrington was not an
artist--only a fastidious, selfish old man, whose eyes always led what
little of heart he possessed.

"Can I go, sir? I am faint--the room is growing dark. I wish, sir,
I--I"----

The poor girl attempted to move toward the door, as she uttered this
broken protestation; but the sight utterly left her eyes--and, instead
of the entrance, she tottered toward the General, with her hands
extended as if to catch at some support, and fell forward, resting her
poor white face upon the folds of his Oriental dressing gown that fell
around his feet.

"This is very embarrassing," muttered the General, jerking the gorgeous
folds of his gown f