“Why not?” he answered.

“I want time to think about it.  The woman has acted like a fiend, and I have not a word to say for her; but I cannot feel that it is fair, after such long and entire trust of this man, to turn on him suddenly without notice.”

“Do you mean that you will not prosecute?” said Mr. Grey, with a dozen notes of interjection in his voice.

“I have not said so.  I want time to make up my mind, and to hear what he has to say for himself.”

“You will hear that at the Bench on Wednesday.”

“It will not be the same thing.”

“I should hope not!”

“You see,” said Rachel, perplexed and grievously wanting time to rally her forces, “I cannot but feel that I have trusted too easily, and perhaps been to blame myself for my implicit confidence, and after that it revolts me to throw the whole blame on another.”

“If you have been a simpleton, does that make him an honest man?” said Mr. Grey, impatiently.

“No,” said Rachel, “but—­”

“What?”

“My credulity may have caused his dishonesty,” she said, bringing, at last, the words to serve the idea.

“Look you here, Rachel,” said Mr. Grey, constraining himself to argue patiently with his old friend’s daughter; “it does not simply lie between you and him—­a silly girl who has let herself be taken in by a sharper.  That would be no more than giving a sixpence to a fellow that tells me he lost his arm at Sebastopol when he has got it sewn up in a bag.  But you have been getting subscriptions from all the world, making yourself answerable to them for having these children educated, and then, for want of proper superintendence, or the merest rational precaution, leaving them to this barbarous usage.  I don’t want to be hard upon you, but you are accountable for all this; you have made yourself so, and unless you wish to be regarded as a sharer in the iniquity, the least you can do by way of compensation, is not to make yourself an obstruction to the course of justice.”

“I don’t much care how I am regarded,” said Rachel, with subdued tone and sunken head; “I only want to do right, and not act spitefully and vindictively before he has had warning to defend himself.”

“Or to set off to delude as many equal foo—­mistaken people as he can find elsewhere!  Eh, Rachel?  Don’t you see, it this friend of yours be innocent, a summons will not hurt him, it will only give him the opportunity of clearing himself.”

“Yes, I see,” owned Rachel, and overpowered, though far from satisfied, she allowed herself to be brought back, and did what was required of her, to the intense relief of her mother.  During her three minute conference no one in the study had ventured on speaking or stirring, and Mrs. Curtis would not thank her biographer for recording the wild alarms that careered through her brain, as to the object of her daughter’s tete-a-tete with the magistrate.