outer room. Someone had entered.

As he stepped to the door between the two rooms, Judge Henderson turned,
his finger on his lips, and made signs that Anne should remain where she
was, undiscovered. The door hung just a trifle, wedged open by the
corner of a fallen rug. Judge Henderson had not time, or did not think,
to close it wholly. He stood face to face with the newcomer.

It was Aurora Lane!

CHAPTER XIII

"AS YOU BELIEVE IN GOD!"

Aurora Lane and Judge Henderson both started back as they faced one
another. For the moment neither spoke.

Aurora was pale, quite beyond her wont, haggard-looking about the eyes.
She had come direct from her home, without alteration of her usual daily
costume. In spite of all, she was very far from uncomely as she stood
now, about her the old indefinable stamp of class which always had clung
to her. Certainly she was quite the equal in appearance of this tall
man, soft from easy living, who faced her now, a trifle pasty of skin, a
trifle soft about the jaws, a trifle indefinite about the waist--a man
with a face as pale and haggard as her own.

Tense as she was, her long schooling in repression stood her in such
stead as to leave her in the better possession of self-control.

"My dear--my dear Madam----" began Judge Henderson.

The hearer in the room beyond must have caught the pause in his voice,
its agitation--and must have heard the even tones of the woman as she
spoke at last, after a long silence.

"I have come to your office, as you know, for the first time," said
Aurora Lane. She gave him no title, no formal address. "It is the first
time in twenty years."

"You have lived a somewhat secluded life, yes, my dear Madam." His
voice, his manner, his attitude, all were labored. He at least knew or
suspected that he was talking to two women, and not one; for there was
no way for Anne to escape and no way in which he could be sure she did
not hear.

"You know about him--about the boy? Of course, everyone in town does. He
didn't die. He's been away--in college. I never wanted him to see this
place. But now he's come back--you know all about it. He's in jail.
We've been thinking perhaps you could do something--that you would help
us."

Her high, clear, staccato voice, easily audible far, now showed her own
keyed-up condition.

Judge Henderson raised a large white hand. "My dear Madam," said he,
himself very far from calm, "let us be calm! Let us above all thing