lish
unpleasantly. Of course there is nothing wrong, but you don't want to
appear in the police court,' he said."

"Had she told?"

"She was more frightened than I was when I told her what had happened,
but she had done the mischief nevertheless. She had written to her
people saying that she had met a friend of Mr. Rodney, and that he was
looking after her, and that he lived in Berkeley Square; she was quite
simple and truthful, and notwithstanding my fear I was sorry for her,
for we might have gone away together somewhere, but, of course, that
was impossible now; her folly left no course open to me except to go to
Dublin and explain everything to her parents."

"I don't see," said Rodney, "that there was anything against you."

"Yes, but I was judging myself according to inward motives, and for
some time I did not see how admirable my conduct would seem to an
unintelligent jury. There is nothing to do between London and Holyhead,
and I composed the case for the prosecution and the case for the
defence and the judge's summing up. I wrote the articles in the
newspapers next day and the paragraphs in the evening papers:... I had
met her at the corner of Berkeley Street and she had asked me the way
to the Gaiety Theatre; and, being anxious for her safety, I had asked
her why she wanted the Gaiety Theatre, for of course if the case came
to trial I should not have approved of the Gaiety, and disapproval
would have won all the Methodists. The girl had told me that she had
set fire to her school, and an excitable girl like that would soon be
lost. I don't know what expression the newspapers would use--'in the
labyrinths of London vice,' she was just the kind of girl that a little
good advice might save from ruin. She had told me that she knew you, I
was her only friend, etc. What could I do better than to take her to a
lodging-house where I had lodged myself and put her in charge of the
landlady? The landlady would be an important witness, and I think it
was at Rugby Junction that I began to hear the judge saying I had acted
with great discretion and kindness, and left the court without a stain
upon my character. Nevertheless, I should have appeared in a police
court on a charge of abducting a girl, a seventeen-year-old maiden; and
not everyone would be duped by outward appearances, many would have
guessed the truth, and, though we're all the same, every one tries to
hide the secret of our common humanity. But I had forgot