nceal the strong and
various emotions that swelled at sight of the portrait of her martyr. In
vain; if the eyes were hidden, the tender bosom heaved, the graceful body
quivered, and the tears fell fast upon the counter.

Mrs. Undercliff was womanly enough, though she looked like the late Lord
Thurlow in petticoats; and she instantly aided the girl to hide her
beating heart from the man, though that man was her son. She distracted
his attention.

"Give me all your notes, Ned," said she, "and let me see whether I can
make something of them; but first perhaps Miss Rolleston will empty her
bag on the counter. Go back to your work a moment, for I know you have
enough to do."

The expert was secretly glad to be released from a case in which there
were no materials; and so Helen escaped unobserved except by one of her
own sex. She saw directly what Mrs. Undercliff had done for her, and
lifted her sweet eyes, thick with tears, to thank her. Mrs. Undercliff
smiled maternally, and next these two ladies did a stroke of business in
the twinkling of an eye, and without a word spoken, whereof anon. Helen
being once more composed, Mrs. Undercliff took up the prayer-book, and
asked her with some curiosity what could be in that.

"Oh," said Helen, "only some writing of Mr. Penfold. Mr. Undercliff does
not want to see that; he is already sure Robert Penfold never wrote that
wicked thing."

"Yes, but I should like to see some more of his handwriting, for all
that," said the expert, looking suddenly up.

"But it is only in pencil."

"Never mind; you need not fear I shall alter my opinion."

Helen colored high. "You are right; and I should disgrace my good cause
by withholding anything from your inspection. There, sir."

And she opened the prayer-book and laid Cooper's dying words before the
expert; he glanced over them with an eye like a bird, and compared them
with his notes.

"Yes," said he, "that is Robert Penfold's writing; and I say again that
hand never wrote the forged note."

"Let me see that," said Mrs. Undercliff.

"Oh, yes," said Helen, rather irresolutely; "but you look into the things
as well as the writing, and I promised papa--"

"Can't you trust me?" said Mrs. Undercliff, turning suddenly cold and a
little suspicious.

"Oh, yes, madam; and indeed I have nothing to reproach myself with. But
my papa is anxious. However, I am sure you are my friend; and all I ask
is that you will never mention to a soul what