Her mind
fled to the interview she had had with her father on the previous
night, and what the woman had said seemed to explain the terror in his
eyes and the mystery of his words.

"My father, Paul's father!"

"Yes; he courted me as Douglas Graham. How he changed his name I don't
know yet; that will come, I suppose. He is my husband and Paul's
father. I told him so last night, so he knows--knows everything. Why
didn't he tell you? But--don't you see?--he cannot condemn Paul to
death. How can a father condemn his own son?"

The two stood close by the window, and Paul's mother still had her hand
upon Mary Bolitho's shoulder, and was looking into her face. Mary felt
the hand tremble, and saw the strong woman reel to and fro.

"You are ill, Mrs. Stepaside," cried Mary; and then, scarcely knowing
what she was doing, she led her to a chair.

"My lass," said the woman, "take me home. Take me to the home Paul
gave me. I cannot think here. I cannot stay any longer. Will you?"

"You mean that you wish me to go to Brunford with you?" asked Mary.

"Ay, if you will, my lassie. I think I am going to be ill. I feel as
though I have borne all I am able to bear, and I want to get home--to
the home which Paul gave me. Will you come with me?"

Mary was almost overwhelmed by what she had heard during the last few
minutes. She was not sure that the woman's story was true, and yet she
felt it might be, that it probably was. She wanted to be alone to
think. If her father were Paul's father, then, then----

The thought was staggering, overwhelming, but above and beyond
everything, Paul's safety, Paul's salvation was her great and paramount
thought. She quickly made up her mind what to do. She could do no
good in Manchester, and if she accompanied this woman to Brunford she
might be able to find proofs to confirm her convictions.

"Yes; I will go with you," she said.

"Thank you, my lassie. Ay, but you're a good child, and you're bonnie,
too. No wonder my Paul loves you better than he loves his mother!"

"Are you sure you are well enough to travel?" asked Mary.

"Yes, I am sure I'm well enough to get home."

"Then excuse me for a little while," said Mary. "I will go back to the
hotel and pack a few things, and come for you with a cab. In half an
hour I will be here. Can you get ready in that time?"

"Ay, I'll be ready; you need not fear."

A few minutes later Mary was back at the hotel again. When she