but you mark my words, she is up to a
little game here, sir, as you'll find she'll
not readily give up. If she do, I'll give
you leave to say she's not artful, and call
me a fool into the bargain."

John Miles was certainly not a man to
take on trust anything a woman like Mrs.
Rouse might insinuate. He was indignant
at the woman's vulgar malignity, which it
was not difficult to surmise had its root in
jealousy; and he would ask for no
explanation of her words. But, nevertheless,
could such things as he had heard at the
station, and now again from Mrs. Rouse,
could such things be said without some
foundation? It was scandal; but what
could have given rise to such scandal? He
felt perplexed. Mrs. Rouse, in the mean
time, was examining his nose, and
speculating whether he drank.

"Will you tell her that I am here?" he
said, quietly, at last. " I hope to prove to
you that you are wrong. I have veiy little
doubt that, after a short conversation with
me, Mary Hind will see the advisability of
returning to her friends."

Ten minutes later Maud entered the
room. She looked pale and worn; but
there was a hard, set look about the mouth
which told of struggle and resolution.
The first shock of finding herself tracked
(and by Miles, too, of all men!) had
unnerved her. She had sat down with her
head between her hands, after Mrs. Rouse
had left the room, and had thought how
she should meet him; what she should
say; above all, what she should do. And
then, at last, she had risen, and like a
hunted stag brought to bay, had turned to
face her pursuer.

Mrs. Rouse, in the mean time, resorted
to one of those expedients for obtaining an
exact knowledge of what passed in the
interview between Mary Hind and the red-
nosed parson, which she probably defended
at the bar of her own conscience, upon
the principle of " the end justifying the
means." In the still-room, which adjoined
the housekeeper's room, where Miles was
now waiting, was a deep cupboard, the
back of which had been a door, communicating
between the two rooms, across which
shelves had been nailed. When the
cupboard-door stood open, therefore,
everything that passed in the housekeeper's
room could be most distinctly heard; and
Mrs. Rouse, cognisant of this fact, always
jealously kept it locked. Upon this occasion,
after locking herself into the still-
room, she noiselessly applied a key from
the bunch at her side to the cupboard
lock, and having opened it, she posted
herself so that no word of what followed
escaped her.

Miles came forward quickly, and took
Maud's hand. He was more moved than
she was, and could not speak for a moment
or two; it was she who began.

"How did you trace me? And why?
It would have been kinder not to do so.
What is the use of it? I am resolved not
to go back to the house of my step-mother's
husband."

"Miss Pomeroy. I have no right to
inquire what causes led to your leaving it;
but—"

"But I wish you to know them. I left
it because my life, which had long been
miserable, became insupportable when I
refused to exchange it for a yet worse
slavery. You know something of that, Mr.
Miles. The taunts to which I was subjected,
drove me to take the step I did, one
which I don't in the least regret, one from
which I will not go back. I prefer working
for my bread, even as a menial, to
being dependent on the charity of a man
who was at no pains to conceal that I was
a burden on him. Now, Mr. Miles, you
know all."

John had by this time completely
recovered his self-possession, He spoke
earnestly, almost sternly, and became
ennobled, as he always did, when carried
away by the sheer force of the words he
held himself bound to utter.

"Who placed you in that position? Was
it your own act? Do you remember our
conversation on the subject of duty? You
have abandoned yours. You have left that
state of life to which you were called, to
embrace one with other duties which were
never meant for you. And the manner in
which you have done this is utterly unjustifiable."

"What duties did I abandon? Who
wanted me? Their sole object, as I told
you long ago, was to get rid of me. They
would have been too glad had I run away
with any man of five thousand a year. But
because I ran away to earn my own bread,
and because I am resolved to continue
working, their pride will suffer. That is
all."

"Even admitting what you say to be
true (though I believe Lady Herriesson
las suffered much on your account), it
does not affect the question. We have a
duty to our own conscience which can
never depend on the conduct of others."