tion if, after all, when
the major should come, she should discover that he did not know the
truth himself! That Mrs. Carbuncle would keep her secret she did
not for a moment think. She longed for the comfort of some friend's
counsel, but she found at last that she could not purchase it by
telling everything to a woman.

Might it not be possible that she should still run away? She did not
know much of the law, but she thought that they could not punish her
for breaking an appointment even with a man so high in authority
as Major Mackintosh. She could leave a note saying that pressing
business called her out. But whither should she go? She thought of
taking a cab to the House of Commons, finding her cousin, and telling
him everything. It would be so much better that he should see the
major. But then again, it might be that she should be mistaken as
to the amount of the major's information. After a while she almost
determined to fly off at once to Scotland, leaving word that she was
obliged to go instantly to her child. But there was no direct train
to Scotland before eight or nine in the evening, and during the
intervening hours the police would have ample time to find her. What,
indeed, could she do with herself during these intervening hours?
Ah, if she had but a rock now, so that she need not be dependent
altogether on the exercise of her own intellect!

Gradually the minutes passed by, and she became aware that she must
face the major. Well! What had she done? She had stolen nothing.
She had taken no person's property. She had, indeed, been wickedly
robbed, and the police had done nothing to get back for her her
property, as they were bound to have done. She would take care to
tell the major what she thought about the negligence of the police.
The major should not have the talk all to himself.

If it had not been for one word with which Lord George had stunned
her ears, she could still have borne it well. She had told a
lie;--perhaps two or three lies. She knew that she had lied. But
then people lie every day. She would not have minded it much if she
were simply to be called a liar. But he had told her that she would
be accused of--perjury. There was something frightful to her in
the name. And there were, she knew not what, dreadful penalties
attached to it. Lord George had told her that she might be put
in prison,--whether he had said for years or for months she had
forgotten. And she thought she had heard of pe