Chapter XXI

Aline sprung to her feet and regarded her father in consternation.

His tenderness and love had given place to fierce anger and authority. His face was pale and stern, his lips set in a rigid line, his dark-blue eyes, so like her own, blazed ominously.

“I _command you_,” he repeated, hoarsely. “Do not continue to trifle with me any longer, Aline. Tell me where you have been.”

“Papa, I would tell you it I could, but I cannot do so,” she answered, gently, almost humbly, and retreating a pace from him toward her sister.

But he waved her away from Effie’s side with sharp authority.

“Stand back,” he said, “you have no right by your sister’s side until this mystery is explained away. Now, will you tell me the truth?”

“I cannot,” she still repeated, and her lips began to quiver. She turned a piteous, pleading gaze upon her mother’s face. It touched a responsive chord in Mrs. Rodney’s heart. She who had always been harshest to Aline was tenderest now.

She came forward and laid a soft, pleading hand on her husband’s arm.

“Oh, Mr. Rodney, do not tease the child,” she said. “See how white and ill she looks! leave her alone now. She will tell us some time when she is better--will you not, my darling?”

Aline flew to her mother’s arms and hid her face on her breast, but she did not answer her pleading question, she only broke into low, hysterical sobs. She was frightened at her father’s anger, her heart and brain were in a whirl. How different was this homecoming from what she had expected! The dear father who had always loved her best, who had always defended her girlish escapades, had turned against her now.

She did not understand that in the very fact of the idolizing love he had borne her lay the secret of her father’s anger. Because he had loved her the best of all he felt her defection the worst of all. To him she had always been loving and obedient. He could not understand her strange disobedience now. It filled him with mingled fear and anger. He was wounded in his love and his pride.

He looked coldly at his wife as she stood with her daughter clasped in her maternal arms mingling her tears with those that flowed from the girl’s blue eyes.

“Mrs. Rodney, I hope you will not interfere in this matter,” he said, with distinct coldness. “I alone must deal with Aline now; I alone dictate her punishment.”

“Punishment! I thought there was to be no more talk of that. We have punished the child too much already!” cried the remorseful mother.

“God bless you, mamma!” whispered the girl, gratefully.

“Be silent. I will have no interference in my management of Aline,” he repeated, angrily.

They all looked at him in wonder. No one had ever seen Mr. Rodney really angry before. His favorite daughter quailed before the white heat of wrath that distorted his proud, handsome face. He advanced and drew her deliberately from Mrs. Rodney’s arms and placed her in a chair. At his authoritative manner Aline’s fair face flushed, and something of his own high spirit flashed into her eyes.

“Papa, you have no right to treat me thus!” she cried. “Why do you humiliate me before this stranger?” and she glanced at Dr. Anthony, who was regarding her with gravely sympathetic eyes.

“I have already told you that Dr. Anthony is not to be regarded as a stranger--” began Mr. Rodney. But the doctor himself interrupted him by stepping forward and addressing him.

“She is right,” he said. “Although Miss Aline has not a better friend on earth than myself, we are actually strangers to each other. I should have remembered the fact before, but that my deep sympathy and interest in her caused me to forget. I crave her pardon for my seeming rudeness, and I will now take my leave.”

He bowed himself out, and left the beautiful culprit alone with her family. They stood around her silently--the weeping mother, the compassionate sister and brother, the father, who had made himself her judge, who was repressing every instinct of tenderness in his anger at what he deemed a girl’s waywardness.

“Aline, you think me harsh and cold,” he said. “God knows no man ever had a harder task than mine. I do not think you understand what will follow upon this rash act of folly and this culpable silence of yours. Shall I tell you?”

“If you please, papa,” answered Aline.