dead with
weariness and exhaustion.

"Norah!" said Mr. Openshaw, in his kindest voice, "the brooch is found.
It was hanging to Mrs. Chadwick's gown. I beg your pardon. Most truly I
beg your pardon, for having troubled you about it. My wife is almost
broken-hearted. Eat, Norah,--or, stay, first drink this glass of wine,"
said he, lifting her head, pouring a little down her throat.

As she drank, she remembered where she was, and who she was waiting for.
She suddenly pushed Mr. Openshaw away, saying, "O, sir, you must go. You
must not stop a minute. If he comes back he will kill you."

"Alas, Norah! I do not know who 'he' is. But some one is gone away who
will never come back: someone who knew you, and whom I am afraid you
cared for."

"I don't understand you, sir," said Norah, her master's kind and
sorrowful manner bewildering her yet more than his words. The policeman
had left the room at Mr. Openshaw's desire, and they two were alone.

"You know what I mean, when I say some one is gone who will never come
back. I mean that he is dead!"

"Who?" said Norah, trembling all over.

"A poor man has been found in the Thames this morning, drowned."

"Did he drown himself?" asked Norah, solemnly.

"God only knows," replied Mr. Openshaw, in the same tone. "Your name and
address at our house, were found in his pocket: that, and his purse, were
the only things, that were found upon him. I am sorry to say it, my poor
Norah; but you are required to go and identify him."

"To what?" asked Norah.

"To say who it is. It is always done, in order that some reason may be
discovered for the suicide--if suicide it was. I make no doubt he was
the man who came to see you at our house last night. It is very sad, I
know." He made pauses between each little clause, in order to try and
bring back her senses; which he feared were wandering--so wild and sad
was her look.

"Master Openshaw," said she, at last, "I've a dreadful secret to tell
you--only you must never breathe it to any one, and you and I must hide
it away for ever. I thought to have done it all by myself, but I see I
cannot. Yon poor man--yes! the dead, drowned creature is, I fear, Mr.
Frank, my mistress's first husband!"

Mr. Openshaw sate down, as if shot. He did not speak; but, after a
while, he signed to Norah to go on.

"He came to me the other night--when--God be thanked--you were all away
at Richmond. He asked me if his wife was dead or aliv