nd looked very much as if he were
the culprit. Certainly his shame and confusion and self-disgust were
greater than that of any one else in the room.

"Oh, Doctor, please don't be angry. Oh, if somebody would only speak
to him!" cried poor Rosa. "Oh, please, it wasn't my fault--I haven't
got no--nobody to speak for me!" At this moment she got a glimpse of
her uncle's face, dark and angry, looming behind the Rector's chair.
Rosa shrank back with a frightened movement, and caught fast hold of
Miss Leonora's dress. "Oh, please, don't let him kill me!" cried the
terrified girl. She sank down at Miss Wentworth's feet, and held
tightly by her unwilling protectress. She was a frightened child,
afraid of being whipped and punished; she was not an outraged woman,
forsaken and miserable. Nobody knew what to do with her as she
crouched down, panting with fright and anxiety, by Miss Leonora's
side.

"We must know who this man is," said John Brown. "Look here, Rosa; if
anybody is to do you good, it is necessary to know the man. Rise up
and look round, and tell me if you can see him here."

After a moment's interval Rosa obeyed. She stood up trembling, resting
her hand to support herself on Miss Leonora's chair--almost, she
trembled so, on Miss Leonora's shoulder. Up to this moment the ignorant
little creature had scarcely felt the shame of her position; she had
felt only the necessity of appealing to the kindness of people who knew
her--people who were powerful enough to do very nearly what they pleased
in Carlingford; for it was in this light that Rosa, who knew no better,
regarded the Doctor and her other judges. This time her eye passed
quickly over those protectors. The tears were still hanging on her
eyelashes; her childish bosom was still palpitating with sobs. Beyond
the little circle of light round the table, the room was comparatively
in shadow. She stood by herself, her pretty face and anxious eyes
appearing over Miss Wentworth's head, her fright and her anxiety both
forgotten for the moment in the sudden hope of seeing her betrayer.
There was not a sound in the room to disturb the impartiality of her
search. Every man kept still, as if by chance he might be the offender.
Rosa's eyes, bright with anxiety, with eagerness, with a feverish hope,
went searching into the shadow, gleaming harmless over the Wentworth
brothers, who were opposite. Then there was a start and a loud cry. She
was not ashamed to be led before the ol