putting his arm round the Rector's neck in his
curiosity, as if they had been two boys at a peep-show. It was Miss
Leonora Wentworth's erect iron-grey figure that appeared in the doorway,
half leading in, half pushing before her, the unfortunate cause of all
the commotion--Rosa Elsworthy herself. A change had passed upon the
little girl's rosy, dewy, April beauty. Her pretty dark eyes were
enlarged and anxious, and full of tears; her cheeks had paled out of
their sweet colour, her red lips were pressed tightly together. Passion
and shame had set their marks upon the child's forehead--lightly, it is
true, but still the traces were there; but beyond all other sentiments,
anxiety, restless, breathless, palpitating, had possession of Mr
Wentworth's all-important witness. It was very clear that, whatever
might be the opinion of her judges, Rosa's case was anything but
hopeless in her own eyes. She came in drooping, shrinking, and abashed,
as was natural; but her shame was secondary in Rosa's mind, even in the
moment of her humiliation. She came to a dead stop when she had made a
few steps into the room, and cast furtive glances at the dread
tribunal, and began to cry. She was trembling with nervous eagerness,
with petulance and impatience. Almost all her judges, except the Rector
and Mr Proctor, had been known to Rosa from her earliest years. She was
not afraid of them, nor cast down by any sense of overwhelming
transgression--on the contrary, she cast an appealing look round her,
which implied that they could still set everything right if they would
exert themselves; and then she began to cry.

"Gentlemen, before you ask any questions," said Miss Leonora
Wentworth, "I should like to explain why I am here. I came not because
I approve of _her_, but because it is right that my nephew should have
a respectable woman to take charge of the witness. She was brought to
my house last night, and has been in my charge ever since;--and I come
with her now, not because I approve of her, but because she ought to
be in charge of some woman," said Miss Leonora, sitting down abruptly
in the chair some one had placed for her. The chair was placed close
by the spot where Rosa stood crying. Poor, pretty, forsaken child!
Perhaps Miss Leonora, who sat beside her, and occupied the position of
her protector, was of all the people present the only one who had not
already forgiven Rosa, the only one who would have still been disposed
to punish her,