ady!" he
whispered. The lawyer heard him. "No," said Mr. Troy. "Be merciful, and
tell her the truth!"

He spoke to a woman who stood in no need of his advice. The inherent
nobility in Lady Lydiard's nature was aroused: her great heart offered
itself patiently to any sorrow, to any sacrifice.

Putting her arm round Isabel--half caressing her, half supporting
her--Lady Lydiard accepted the whole responsibility and told the whole
truth.

Reeling under the first shock, the poor girl recovered herself with
admirable courage. She raised her head, and eyed the lawyer without
uttering a word. In its artless consciousness of innocence the look was
nothing less than sublime. Addressing herself to Mr. Troy, Lady Lydiard
pointed to Isabel. "Do you see guilt there?" she asked.

Mr. Troy made no answer. In the melancholy experience of humanity to
which his profession condemned him, he had seen conscious guilt assume
the face of innocence, and helpless innocence admit the disguise of
guilt: the keenest observation, in either case, failing completely to
detect the truth. Lady Lydiard misinterpreted his silence as expressing
the sullen self-assertion of a heartless man. She turned from him, in
contempt, and held out her hand to Isabel.

"Mr. Troy is not satisfied yet," she said bitterly. "My love, take my
hand, and look me in the face as your equal; I know no difference of
rank at such a time as this. Before God, who hears you, are you innocent
of the theft of the bank-note?"

"Before God, who hears me," Isabel answered, "I am innocent."

Lady Lydiard looked once more at the lawyer, and waited to hear if he
believed _that_.

Mr. Troy took refuge in dumb diplomacy--he made a low bow. It might have
meant that he believed Isabel, or it might have meant that he modestly
withdrew his own opinion into the background. Lady Lydiard did not
condescend to inquire what it meant.

"The sooner we bring this painful scene to an end the better," she said.
"I shall be glad to avail myself of your professional assistance, Mr.
Troy, within certain limits. Outside of my house, I beg that you will
spare no trouble in tracing the lost money to the person who has really
stolen it. Inside of my house, I must positively request that the
disappearance of the note may never be alluded to, in any way whatever,
until your inquiries have been successful in discovering the thief. In
the meanwhile, Mrs. Tollmidge and her family must not be sufferers by
my