She turned to the door and
prepared to lead the way upstairs.

"Sleep!" exclaimed Mrs. Holymead bitterly. "I have not had a peaceful
sleep since your father was killed. I have been haunted day and night. I
cannot sleep."

"I know it was a dreadful shock to you, but you must not take it so much
to heart. You must see your doctor and do what he tells you. Mr. Holymead
should send you away."

At the mention of her husband's name Mrs. Holymead came back to the
thought that had been foremost in her mind.

"Will you save him?" she exclaimed.

"You know I will do anything I can for him," answered the girl gently.
Her intention was to humour her visitor, for she was quite sure that Mr.
Holymead was in no danger.

"Will you stop Mr. Crewe?"

"Stop Mr. Crewe?" Miss Fewbanks repeated the words in a tone that showed
her interest had been awakened. "Stop him from what?"

"Stop him from arresting my husband."

"Do you mean to say that Mr. Crewe thinks Mr. Holymead had anything to do
with the murder of my father?"

"If I tell you everything will you stop him? Oh, Mabel, darling, for the
sake of the past--before I came on the scene to mar the lives of both of
them--will you save him? It is I--not he--who should pay the penalty of
this awful tragedy. Will you save him?"

"Tell me everything," said the girl firmly.

To the stricken wife there was a promise in the demand for light, and in
broken phrases she poured out her story of shame and sorrow. With a
feeling that everything was falling away from her the girl learnt from
her visitor's disconnected story that there had been a liaison between
her murdered father and her friend. Mr. Holymead had discovered it after
Sir Horace had gone to Scotland and husband and wife were away in the
country. He was at first distracted at finding that his lifelong friend
had seduced his wife, then he made her promise not to see or communicate
with Sir Horace until he made up his mind what course of action to take.
Three days later he caught an evening train to London and told her he
was not returning, but would write to her.

It crossed her mind that he had gone up to London to meet Sir Horace, and
in her distress at the thought of what might happen when they met she
consulted her cousin Gabrielle, who had always been in her confidence.
Gabrielle had offered to go to Riversbrook to see if Sir Horace had
returned from Scotland, or was expected back. Her train was delayed by an
accident, a