To his astonishment she burst into a passionate storm of sobs and tears, and in words confused and only half audible, she accused herself of being as weak and foolish as the rest, and, as he made out, quite unworthy of his trust. "Oh! Pierce, darling," she cried wildly, as she sank upon her knees in front of his chair; "I'm a wicked, wicked girl, and not deserving of all you think about me. Believe in poor Kate, and not in me, for indeed, indeed, she is all that is good and true." "A man cannot govern his feelings, Sissy," he said, half alarmed now at the violence of her grief. "I must believe in you always, as my own little girl. How could I do otherwise, when you have been everything to me for so long, ever since you were quite a little girl and I told you not to cry for I would be father and mother to you, both." "And so you have been, Pierce, dear," she sobbed, "but I don't deserve it--I don't deserve it." "I don't deserve to have such a loving little companion," he said, kissing her tenderly. "Haven't I let my fancy stray from you, and am I not being sharply punished for my weal mess?" She suddenly hung back from him and pressed her hair from her temples, as he held her by the waist. "Pierce!" she said sharply, and there was a look of anger in her eyes, "he is a horrid wretch." "People do not give him much of a character," said Leigh bitterly, "but that would be no excuse for my following him to wring his neck." "I believe he would be guilty of any wickedness. Tell me, dear; do you think it possible--such things have been done?" "What things?" he said, wondering at her excited manner. "It is to get her money, of course; for it would be his then. Do you think he has taken her away by force?" Leigh started violently now in turn, and a light seemed to flash into his understanding, but it died out directly, and he said half pityingly, as he drew her to him once again: "Poor little inventor of fiction," he said, with a harsh laugh. "But let it rest, Sissy; it will not do. These things only occur in a romance. No, I do not think anything of the kind; and what do you say to London now?" CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. "What are you going to do, James, dear?" said Mrs Wilton. "Eh?" "What are you going to do, dear? Oh, you don't know what a relief it is to me. I was going to beg you to have the pike pond dragged." James Wilton's strong desire was to do nothing, and give his son plenty of time; but there was a Mrs Grundy even at Northwood, and she had to be studied. "Do? Errum!" He cleared his throat with a long imposing, rolling sound. "Well, search must be made for them directly, and they must be brought back. It is disgraceful I did mean to sit down and do nothing, but it will not do. I am very angry and indignant with them both, for Kate is as bad as Claud. It must not be said that we connived at the-- the--the--what's the word?--escapade."