ing for a time, she went into Paul's
mother's bedroom again, and watched her as she lay asleep. Could what
she had dreamt of be true? Could this woman who lay sleeping as
peacefully as a child be guilty of the terrible crime of which she had
accused her? In her sleep she looked almost like a girl. The lines
had somehow left her face, as though an angel's hand had wiped them
out. A smile was upon her lips. In her sleep she did not suggest a
strong, passionate woman, but the girl whom any lad might love.

She left the room again and wandered aimlessly around. She found a
strange interest in being in Paul's home. She felt, too, as though she
had a right there; and why should she not have that right, since Paul
was her brother? More than once she looked toward the garden gate as
if expecting that he would come in. She did not think of him as being
tried for his life in the assize courts at Manchester. But she had
strange fancies of what was happening there. What would her father
say? What would he do?

Presently she heard shrill cries in the road not far distant. She
listened attentively.

"Wonderful confession at Manchester!" It was a boy's voice she heard,
and every word reached her clearly.

"Strange confession by the judge! Paul Stepaside's father!"

Heedless of what she was doing, she rushed down the garden path, and
found her way into the street in the near distance. A boy was selling
newspapers. She bought one, and hurried back to the house. She had no
idea of the lapse of time, did not realise that it was now three
o'clock in the afternoon. She had come by a slow train from
Manchester, and Paul's mother had been sleeping for hours.

Eagerly she opened the paper, and there, great staring headlines met
her gaze. For a long time she was absorbed by what she read. There,
in cold, plain words, was her father's confession. It was true, then;
every word of it was true. She did not know why she did it, but,
taking the paper in her hand, she hurried upstairs to the bedroom where
she had left Paul's mother asleep. The town hall clock was chiming in
the distance. She looked at her own watch, and saw that it was
half-past four. She had been reading the paper for an hour. As she
entered the woman on the bed awoke.

"Something's happened, my lassie. What is it?"

"It's all here," said Mary. "It's all here. Shall I read it to you?"

CHAPTER XXIX

MARY'S ACCUSATION

As Mary looked