“Mary, was any one here last night while we were away?”

“A man, sir, came to speak to Norah.”

“To speak to Norah!  Who was he?  How long did he stay?”

“I’m sure I can’t tell, sir.  He came—­perhaps about nine.  I went up to tell Norah in the nursery, and she came down to speak to him.  She let him out, sir.  She will know who he was, and how long he stayed.”

She waited a moment to be asked any more questions, but she was not, so she went away.

A minute afterwards Openshaw made as though he were going out of the room; but his wife laid her hand on his arm: 

“Do not speak to her before the children,” she said, in her low, quiet voice.  “I will go up and question her.”

“No!  I must speak to her.  You must know,” said he, turning to his uncle and aunt, “my missus has an old servant, as faithful as ever woman was, I do believe, as far as love goes,—­but, at the same time, who does not always speak truth, as even the missus must allow.  Now, my notion is, that this Norah of ours has been come over by some good-for-nothin chap (for she’s at the time o’ life when they say women pray for husbands—­’any, good Lord, any,’) and has let him into our house, and the chap has made off with your brooch, and m’appen many another thing beside.  It’s only saying that Norah is soft-hearted, and does not stick at a white lie—­that’s all, missus.”

It was curious to notice how his tone, his eyes, his whole face changed as he spoke to his wife; but he was the resolute man through all.  She knew better than to oppose him; so she went up-stairs, and told Norah her master wanted to speak to her, and that she would take care of the children in the meanwhile.

Norah rose to go without a word.  Her thoughts were these: 

“If they tear me to pieces they shall never know through me.  He may come,—­and then just Lord have mercy upon us all:  for some of us are dead folk to a certainty.  But he shall do it; not me.”

You may fancy, now, her look of determination as she faced her master alone in the dining-room; Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick having left the affair in their nephew’s hands, seeing that he took it up with such vehemence.

“Norah!  Who was that man that came to my house last night?”

“Man, sir!” As if infinitely; surprised but it was only to gain time.

“Yes; the man whom Mary let in; whom she went up-stairs to the nursery to tell you about; whom you came down to speak to; the same chap, I make no doubt, whom you took into the nursery to have your talk out with; whom Ailsie saw, and afterwards dreamed about; thinking, poor wench! she saw him say his prayers, when nothing, I’ll be bound, was farther from his thoughts; who took Mrs. Chadwick’s brooch, value ten pounds.  Now, Norah!  Don’t go off!  I am as sure as that my name’s Thomas Openshaw, that you knew nothing of this robbery.  But I do think you’ve been imposed on, and