Part 66 (1/2)

”You--er--cashed that cheque?”

”Yes.”

Alex felt as though she were being put to the torture of the Inquisition, but was utterly unable to do more than reply in monosyllables to Cedric's level, judicial questions.

”May I ask to what purpose you applied the money?”

”Cedric, it's not fair!” broke from Alex. ”I've written and told you what I did--I needed money, and I--I thought you wouldn't mind. I used it for myself--and I meant to write and tell you--”

”You thought I wouldn't mind!” repeated Cedric in tones of stupefaction.

”You said you would advance me money--I knew you could write another cheque for the servants' wages. I--I didn't think of your minding.”

”Mind!” said Cedric again, with reiteration worthy of his nursery days.

”My dear girl, you don't suppose it's the money I mind, do you?”

”No, no--I ought to have asked you first--but I didn't think--it seemed a natural thing to do--”

”Good Lord, Alex!” cried Cedric, more moved than she had ever seen him.

”Do you understand what you're saying? A natural thing to do to _embezzle money_?”

Tears of terror and of utter bewilderment seized on Alex' enfeebled powers, and deprived her of utterance.

Cedric began to pace the library, speaking rapidly and without looking at her.

”If you'd only written and told me what you'd done at once--though Heaven knows that would have been bad enough but to do a thing like that and then let it rest! Didn't you know that it _must_ be found out sooner or later?”

He cast a fleeting glance at Alex, who sat with the tears pouring down her quivering face, but she said nothing. It was of no use to explain to Cedric that she had never thought of not being found out. She had meant no concealment. She had thought her action so simple a one that it had hardly needed explanation or justification. It had merely been not worth while to write.

Cedric's voice went on, gradually gaining in power as the agitation that had shaken him subsided under his own fluency.

”You know that it's a prosecutable offence, Alex? Of course, there's no question of such a thing, but to trade on that certainty--”

Alex made an inarticulate sound.

”Violet says of course you didn't know what you were doing. That wretched place--that convent--has played havoc with you altogether. When I think of those people--!” Cedric's face darkened. ”But hang it, Alex, you were brought up like the rest of us. And on a question of honour--think of father!”

Alex had stopped crying. She was about to make her last stand, with the last strength that in her lay.

”Cedric--listen to me. You must! You don't understand. I didn't look at it from your point of view--I didn't see it like that. There's something wrong with me--there must be--but it didn't seem to me to matter. I know you won't believe me--but I thought the money was quite a little, unimportant thing, and that you'd understand, and say I'd done right to take it for granted that I might have it.”

”But it's _not_ the money!” groaned Cedric. ”Though what on earth you wanted it for, when you had no expenses and your allowance just paid in--But that's not the point. Can't you see, Alex? It's not this wretched cheque in itself; it's the principle of the thing.”

Alex gazed at him quite hopelessly. The flickering spark of spirit died out and left her soul in darkness.

Cedric faced her.

”I couldn't believe that your letter really meant what it seemed to mean,” he said slowly; ”but if it does--as on your own showing it does--then I understand your leaving us, needless to say. Where are you living--what is this place, Malden Road?”