ere tightly packed in a small
silver box.

"Isn't Mrs. Clarke coming to-day?" Dion asked.

"Yes. I expect her in a moment. Esme Darlington is bringing her."

"Mr. Darlington?"

"You're surprised?"

"Well, I should hardly have expected somehow that--I don't know."

"I do. But Esme Darlington's more of a man than he seems. And he's
thoroughly convinced of Cynthia's innocence. Here they are."

There was a stir in the crowd. Many women present rustled as they turned
in their seats; some stood up and craned forward; people in the gallery
leaned over, looking eagerly down; a loud murmur and a wide hiss of
whispering emphasized the life in the court. The tall, loose-limbed
figure of Esme Darlington, looking to-day singularly dignified and
almost impressive, pushed slowly forward, followed by the woman whose
social fate was so soon to be decided.

Mrs. Clarke glanced round over the many faces without any defiance as
she made her way with difficulty to a seat beside her solicitor. The
lack of defiance in her expression struck Dion forcibly. This woman did
not seem to be mentally on the defensive, did not seem to be wishing to
repel the glances, fierce with curiosity, which were leveled at her from
all sides. Apparently she had no fear at all of bristling bayonets. Her
haggard face was unsmiling, not cold, but intense with a sort of living
calm which was surely not a mask. She looked at Mrs. Chetwinde and at
Dion as she passed near to them, giving them no greeting except with her
large eyes which obviously recognized them. In a moment she was sitting
down between her solicitor and Esme Darlington.

"It will quite break Guy Daventry up if she doesn't get the verdict,"
said Dion in an uneven voice to Mrs. Chetwinde.

"Mr. Daventry?" she said, with an odd little stress of emphasis on the
name.

"Of course I should hate it too. Any man who feels a woman is
innocent--"

He broke off. She said nothing, and went on eating her little sandwiches
as if she rather disliked them.

"Mrs. Chetwinde, do tell me. I believe you've got an extraordinary
flair--will she win?"

"My dear boy, now how can I know?"

Dion felt very young for a minute.

"I want to know what you expect."

Mrs. Chetwinde closed the small silver box with a soft snap.

"I fully expect her to win."

"Because she's innocent?"

"Oh no. That's no reason in a world like this, unfortunately."

"But, then, why?"

"Because Cynthia always does get what sh