“Now, not only did the prisoner at the bar spend most nights in the bar parlor, but, as I am given to understand, he spent most days there, or, at all events, in your society, did he not?”

“Father and Solomon were away most days, Sir, and so we were left a good deal together.”

“Just so.  Your father took care to be away most days, did he, in order that you should be left a good deal together?”

Mr. Smoothbore started to his feet.  “My lud, I submit,” etc.; meaning that this was a mode of interrogating the witness that he could not submit to for an instant.

“Very good,” said Mr. Balais, smiling.  “I will not put the question in that form, then.  The form is of very little consequence.  You were left together, however, and the consequence was that you two young people fell in love with one another, eh?”

Harry was crimson.  “I—­he—­we;” and there she stuck.

“I am very sorry to embarrass you, my dear young lady, but I am necessitated to press this question.  Did you fall in love with one another or not?”

No answer.  Harry was thinking of Solomon, to whom she was to be married within ten days, and hung her head.

“Come, did he fall in love with you, then?  There was ample apology for it, I am sure, and he ought to have been ashamed of himself if he hadn’t.  Now, did he ‘court’ you?  I think you must know what that means.”

No answer.  Every eye was upon her, the judge’s double glasses included.  They might have been burning-glasses, she felt so hot and frightened.

“Come, did this young gentleman ever give you a kiss?”

“Yes, Sir,” murmured poor Harry, almost under her breath.

“Did you say ‘Yes’ or ‘No?’” inquired the judge, dipping his pen in the ink.

“I said ‘Yes,’ my lord,” said the unhappy Harry.

“There were more kisses than one, now, I dare say,” said Mr. Balais, with a wink at the jury; “and they were not all on one side, eh?”

No answer.

“Some of them were on the other side, were they not?  I don’t mean on the other cheek, for I have no doubt he was perfectly indifferent as to that.”

Again there was a little titter.

“She is your own witness, Brother Balais,” observed his lordship, “but it seems to me you are giving her unnecessary pain.”

He had a very tender heart, had the old judge, where a young and pretty woman was concerned—­otherwise he was a Tartar.

“My lud, it is absolutely necessary to prove that my client’s passion was reciprocated.  Did you ever return one of these many kisses, Miss Trevethick?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Did you ever meet him alone at night in a place, I believe, called the Fairies’ Bower?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes,” repeated Mr. Balais, recapitulating these facts upon his fingers; “you were left alone with him all day; you met him alone at night, away from your father’s roof; you returned his kisses; and all this without the slightest suspicion—­if we are to believe his evidence—­being aroused upon the part of your parent.  Now, Miss Trevethick, you were aware that your father kept a large sum of money—­these two thousand pounds—­in his strong-box, were you not?”