"
Mr. Bates looked about him bewilderedly for a short time, and then replied,
"No, no, you need not apologize, you are right--I thank you; I myself
should have known better. But my poor child! what will become of her?" and
in an agony of sorrow he resumed his seat, and buried his face in his
hands.
George Stevens prepared to take his departure, but Mr. Bates pressed him to
remain. "In a little while," said he, "I shall be more composed, and then I
wish you to go with me to this worthless scoundrel. I must see him at once,
and warn him what the consequences will be should he dare approach my child
again. Don't fear me," he added, as he saw George Stevens hesitated to
remain; "that whirlwind of passion is over now. I promise you I shall do
nothing unworthy of myself or my child."
It was not long before they departed together for the hotel at which
Clarence was staying. When they entered his room, they found him in his
bed, with the miniature of little Birdie in his hands. When he observed the
dark scowl on the face of Mr. Bates, and saw by whom he was accompanied, he
knew his secret was discovered; he saw it written on their faces. He
trembled like a leaf, and his heart seemed like a lump of ice in his bosom.
Mr. Bates was about to speak, when Clarence held up his hand in the
attitude of one endeavouring to ward off a blow, and whispered hoarsely--
"Don't tell me--not yet--a little longer! I see you know all.
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