up stairs and found Lady Mason lying on her bed. At first Mrs. Orme
thought that she was asleep, but no such comfort had come to the poor
woman. "Does he know it?" she asked.

Mrs. Orme's task for that night was by no means yet done. After
remaining for a while with Lady Mason she again returned to Lucius,
and was in this way a bearer of messages between them. There was at
last no question as to doubting the story. He did believe it. He
could not avoid the necessity for such belief. "Yes," he said, when
Mrs. Orme spoke again of his leaving the place, "I will go and hide
myself; and as for her--"

"But you will go with her,--if the jury do not say that she was
guilty--"

"Oh, Mrs. Orme!"

"If they do, you will come back for her, when the time of her
punishment is over? She is still your mother, Mr. Mason."

At last the work of the night was done, and the two ladies went to
their beds. The understanding was that Lucius should see his mother
before they started in the morning, but that he should not again
accompany them to the court. Mrs. Orme's great object had been,--her
great object as regarded the present moment,--to prevent his presence
in court when the verdict should be given. In this she had succeeded.
She could now wish for an acquittal with a clear conscience; and
could as it were absolve the sinner within her own heart, seeing that
there was no longer any doubt as to the giving up of the property.
Whatever might be the verdict of the jury Joseph Mason of Groby
would, without doubt, obtain the property which belonged to him.

"Good-night, Mr. Mason," Mrs. Orme said at last, as she gave him her
hand.

"Good-night. I believe that in my madness I spoke to you to-night
like a brute."

"No, no. It was nothing. I did not think of it."

"When you think of how it was with me, you will forgive me."

She pressed his hand and again told him that she had not thought of
it. It was nothing. And indeed it had been as nothing to her. There
may be moments in a man's life when any words may be forgiven, even
though they be spoken to a woman.

When Mrs. Orme was gone, he stood for a while perfectly motionless
in the dining-room, and then coming out into the hall he opened the
front door, and taking his hat, went out into the night. It was still
winter, but the night, though cold and very dark, was fine, and the
air was sharp with the beginning frost. Leaving the door open he
walked forth, and passing out on to the