"Not one." And then, as if trying to excuse herself Lady Alice added, hurriedly, "there is nothing that I can say which would please him. He would not care for any message from me." "He would care to hear that you trusted him!" "I do not think so," said Lady Alice, with a little shake of her head. Lesley rose to her feet, silenced for the moment, but not altogether vanquished. She put her arms round her mother's neck. "But you do trust him, mamma? Tell me that, at any rate." For almost the first time within Lesley's memory Lady Alice made a gesture of impatience. "I cannot be catechised; Lesley. Let me alone. You do not understand." And Lesley was obliged to go away, feeling sorrowfully that she had failed in her mission. Perhaps, however, she had succeeded better than she knew. CHAPTER XXXVI. "AT YOUR SIDE." Caspar Brooke was not as yet debarred the privilege of seeing his friends, and on the morning after his arrest he had a great many visitors, including, of course, Maurice Kenyon and his lawyer. Maurice was busying himself earnestly on his friend's behalf; and, considering the position that Brooke held, the esteem felt for him in high places, and the amount of interest that was being brought to bear on the authorities, there was little doubt but that he would be let out on bail in a day or two, even if the proceedings were not quashed altogether. Some delay, however, there was sure to be owing to the pertinacity of Mary Trent's assertion that she saw him struggling with Oliver on the stairs, but in the meantime his detention was allowed to press as lightly upon him as possible. It was noon before Lesley saw him, and when she sprang to his side and threw her arms around his neck, with a new demonstrativeness of manner, she noticed that his brows lifted a little, and that he smiled with a look of positive pleasure and relief. "So you have come?" he said, holding her to him as if he did not like to let her go. "I began to wonder if you had deserted me!" "Oh, father! Why, I have been waiting ever so long for Mr. Grierson to go." "And before that----?" he asked, in rather a peculiar tone. "Before that--I went to see mamma." And Lesley looked bravely up into his face. "That was an infringement of contract, as I suppose you know," said Caspar, smiling persistently. "But it does not matter very much. What did 'mamma' say to you?" "I--don't--know," murmured Lesley, confused by the question. "Nothing very much." "Nothing. Ah, I know what that means." He turned away from her, and, sitting down, leaned his elbows upon a table, and played with his beard. "It was useless, Lesley," he said, quietly, after a few minutes' silence. "Your mother is the last person whose sympathies will be enlisted on my side." Lesley tried to speak but suddenly felt her voice fail her; so instead of speaking she knelt down by her father, leaned her head upon his shoulder, and burst into very heartfelt tears.