s, that that's noan o' your
business. If our Emily has no mind to work, she'll noan work. Good
afternoon." And the woman closed the door in her face.

As Mary turned to walk away she noticed that a number of people were
watching her, as if wondering what she should be doing there. But no
one spoke to her, and presently she found herself again near Paul's
home, pondering deeply over what had taken place. She recalled every
word that had been spoken, every question she had asked, and every
answer the woman had given. She had said nothing that might arouse any
suspicions, and her action was quite natural. She had simply gone to
ask after one of Paul's employees, and therefore no one could attach
undue importance to her visit, although they would be naturally curious
to know why she went. During the time she had canvassed these people,
when her father was candidate for Brunford, she had got to know many of
their characteristics and to understand their methods of thinking, and
this fact helped her to form her conclusions now, helped her to know
how to act under the circumstances by which she was surrounded.

When she reached the house she asked for her father, and was informed
that he was not in. He had left early that morning and had not yet
returned. Hour after hour Mary sat alone, thinking, planning,
wondering. She was afraid to attach too much importance to what had
taken place that day, yet she felt sure that what she had seen and
heard was not without meaning. But she felt her inexperience greatly.
Oh, if her father would only come!

Presently a telegram was brought to her. Eagerly she opened it and
read the contents. She saw that it was sent from Manchester, and it
told her that her father was returning by the last train, and that
there was no need for her to wait up for him.

Mary seized a time-table that lay on the table, and saw that the last
train arrived at Brunford at eleven o'clock. There were four long,
weary hours to wait, but she could not think of going to bed.
Consequently, when Judge Bolitho returned that night he found his
daughter awaiting him.

"Has something happened, Mary?" he said, as he noticed the look in her
eyes.

"Have you found out anything?" she asked.

He shook his head sadly. "Nothing," he said. "I am afraid the trial
has gone against Paul to-day too. I suppose it'll end to-morrow. Paul
is to give his speech for his defence then. I wish I could be there;
but I c