At the sound of his voice, the first voice of compassion that had yet spoken to her, Alice cried to him.

“Steven!  Steven!  They’ve been saying awful things to me.  Tell them it isn’t true.  Tell them you don’t believe it.”

“There—­there——­” His voice stuck in his throat.

He put his hand on her shoulder, standing between her and her father.

“Tell them——­” She looked up at him with her piteous eyes.

“She’s worried to death,” said Rowcliffe.  “You might have left it for to-night at any rate.”

“We couldn’t, Steven, when you’ve sent for Greatorex.  We must get at the truth before he comes.”

Rowcliffe shrugged his shoulders.

“Have you brought him?” said the Vicar.

“No, I haven’t.  He’s in Morfe.  I’ve sent word for him to come on here.”

Alice looked sharply at him.

“What have you sent for him for?  Do you suppose he’d give me away?”

She began to weep softly.

“All this,” said Rowcliffe, “is awfully bad for her.”

“You don’t seem to consider what it is for us.”

Rowcliffe took no notice of the Vicar.

“Look here, Mary—­you’d better take her upstairs before he comes.  Put her to bed.  Try and get her to sleep.”

“Very well.  Come, Ally.”  Mary was gentler now.

Then Ally became wonderful.

She stood up and faced them all.

“I won’t go,” she said.  “I’ll stay till he comes if I sit up all night.  How do I know what you’re going to do to him?  Do you suppose I’m going to leave him with you?  If anybody touches him I’ll kill them.”

“Ally, dear——­”

Mary put her hand gently on her sister’s arm to lead her from the room.

Ally shook off the hand and turned on her in hysteric fury.

“Stop pawing me—­you!  How dare you touch me after what you’ve said.  Steven—­she says I took Essy’s lover from her.”

“I didn’t, Ally.  She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“You did say it.  She did, Steven.  She said I ought to thank Essy for not splitting on me when I took her lover from her.  As if she could talk when she took Steven from Gwenda.”

“Oh—­Steven!”

Rowcliffe shook his head at Mary, frowning, as a sign to her not to mind what Alice said.

“You treat me as if I was dirt, but I’d have died rather than have done what she did.”

“Come, Alice, come.  You know you don’t mean it,” said Rowcliffe, utterly gentle.

“I do mean it!  She sneaked you from behind Gwenda’s back and lied to you to make you think she didn’t care for you——­”

“Be quiet, you shameful girl!”

“Be quiet yourself, Papa.  I’m not as shameful as Molly is.  I’m not as shameful as you are yourself.  You killed Mother.”

“Oh—­my—­God——­” The words were almost inaudible in the Vicar’s shuddering groan.