he freed her hands
gently, but firmly. Miss Crawford sank back in mute despair, as if she had
received her death-wound.

"Listen to me," said Judith. "I _must_ go, but I will come back. I would
swear it, only I don't quite know how people swear," she added with a
tremulous little laugh. "Dear Miss Crawford, you trusted mamma: as surely
as I am her daughter you may trust me. Won't you trust me, dear?"

"I'll try," said the old lady. "But why must you go?"

"I must, really."

"It won't be so bad for you: he can't blame you," Miss Crawford
reiterated, drearily pleading. "Judith, no one ever had the heart to be so
cruel as you will be if you don't come back."

"But I will," said Judith. She made her escape, and met Percival Thorne on
her way to Bellevue street.

"And now what is to be done?" she asked, looking up at him when she had
told him all. "No letter--no sign of Bertie."

Percival might not be very ready with expedients, but his calmness and
reserve gave an impression of greater resources than he actually
possessed. He hesitated while Judith spoke, but he did not show it. There
was a pause, during which he caught at an idea, and uttered it without a
trace of indecision. "I'll look up Gordon," he said, glancing at his
watch. "If Gordon told Bertie of this situation, he may be able to tell us
where a telegram would find him. Perhaps he may explain this mysterious
little note. If we can satisfactorily account for his absence, we shall
have nothing to say about Bertie, except to justify him if any one else
should bring his name into the affair. And you could do your best to help
Mr. Nash and Miss Crawford in their search."

"Yes, but where will you find Mr. Gordon?"

"He's a clerk at a factory in Hill street. I will go at once." And he
hurried off.

Judith went to the window and looked after him with a despairing sense of
loneliness in her heart. The little maid asked her if the dinner should be
brought in, and she answered in a tone that she hoped was cheerful.

Miss Bryant came in with a dish and set it on the table. She seldom helped
in this way, and Judith divined the motive. Conscious that she was
narrowly scanned, she tried to assume a careless air, and turned away so
that the light should not fall on her face. But Lydia said nothing. She
looked at Judith doubtfully, curiously, anxiously: her lips parted, but no
word came. Judith began to eat as if in defiance.

Lydia hesitated on the threshold, and t