onder in those who might hear her. Then she
stopped. An idea came into her mind that she would leave London
altogether, and betake herself to her native town of Liverpool. She
felt in her pocket for her purse as she drew near the Euston Square
station with this intention. She had left it at home. Her poor head
aching, her eyes swollen with crying, she had to stand still, and
think, as well as she could, where next she should bend her steps.
Suddenly the thought flashed into her mind that she would go and find
out poor Mr Frank. She had been hardly kind to him the night before,
though her heart had bled for him ever since. She remembered his
telling her, when she inquired for his address, almost as she had
pushed him out of the door, of some hotel in a street not far distant
from Euston Square. Thither she went: with what intention she scarcely
knew, but to assuage her conscience by telling him how much she
pitied him. In her present state she felt herself unfit to counsel,
or restrain, or assist, or do aught else but sympathize and weep. The
people of the inn said such a person had been there; had arrived only
the day before; had gone out soon after arrival, leaving his luggage
in their care; but had never come back. Norah asked for leave to sit
down, and await the gentleman's return. The landlady--pretty secure in
the deposit of luggage against any probable injury--showed her into
a room, and quietly locked the door on the outside. Norah was utterly
worn out, and fell asleep--a shivering, starting, uneasy slumber,
which lasted for hours.

The detective, meanwhile, had come up with her some time before she
entered the hotel, into which he followed her. Asking the landlady to
detain her for an hour or so, without giving any reason beyond showing
his authority (which made the landlady applaud herself a good deal for
having locked her in), he went back to the police-station to report
his proceedings. He could have taken her directly; but his object was,
if possible, to trace out the man who was supposed to have committed
the robbery. Then he heard of the discovery of the brooch; and
consequently did not care to return.

Norah slept till even the summer evening began to close in, Then
started up. Someone was at the door. It would be Mr Frank; and she
dizzily pushed back her ruffled grey hair which had fallen over her
eyes, and stood looking to see him. Instead, there came in Mr Openshaw
and a policeman.

'This is Norah