When she awoke a new idea flashed upon her with all the brightness of the morning.  Mr. Thornton had learnt her falsehood before he went to the coroner; that suggested the thought, that he had possibly been influenced so to do with a view of sparing her the repetition of her denial.  But she pushed this notion on one side with the sick wilfulness of a child.  If it were so, she felt no gratitude to him, as it only showed her how keenly he must have seen that she was disgraced already, before he took such unwonted pains to spare her any further trial of truthfulness, which had already failed so signally.  She would have gone through the whole—­she would have perjured herself to save Frederick, rather—­far rather—­than Mr. Thornton should have had the knowledge that prompted him to interfere to save her.  What ill-fate brought him in contact with the Inspector?  What made him be the very magistrate sent for to receive Leonards’ deposition?  What had Leonards said?  How much of it was intelligible to Mr. Thornton, who might already, for aught she knew, be aware of the old accusation against Frederick, through their mutual friend, Mr. Bell?  If so, he had striven to save the son, who came in defiance of the law to attend his mother’s death-bed.  And under this idea she could feel grateful—­not yet, if ever she should, if his interference had been prompted by contempt.  Oh! had any one such just cause to feel contempt for her?  Mr. Thornton, above all people, on whom she had looked down from her imaginary heights till now!  She suddenly found herself at his feet, and was strangely distressed at her fall.  She shrank from following out the premises to their conclusion, and so acknowledging to herself how much she valued his respect and good opinion.  Whenever this idea presented itself to her at the end of a long avenue of thoughts, she turned away from following that path—­she would not believe in it.

It was later than she fancied, for in the agitation of the previous night, she had forgotten to wind up her watch; and Mr. Hale had given especial orders that she was not to be disturbed by the usual awakening.  By and by the door opened cautiously, and Dixon put her head in.  Perceiving that Margaret was awake, she came forwards with a letter.

’Here’s something to do you good, miss.  A letter from Master Frederick.’

‘Thank you, Dixon.  How late it is!’

She spoke very languidly, and suffered Dixon to lay it on the counterpane before her, without putting out a hand to lake it.

’You want your breakfast, I’m sure.  I will bring it you in a minute.  Master has got the tray all ready, I know.’