They had told Georgie of Roy’s presence in the house, and how he cried in Mrs. Burton’s room. Then every muscle of Georgie’s face was convulsed, and Jack, who was with her constantly, never forgot the look of anguish which came into her eyes, or the quivering motion of her lips as she tried in vain to speak again. What she thought no one could guess, and she was powerless to tell, as she lay there all the day listening so eagerly to all they said about the hunt for the burglar, which was still going on. “They will be pretty sure to find him; he cannot escape,” Jack said, and then Georgie gave forth a cry which curdled his very blood, and made him turn quickly towards her, trying to read what she wanted in her eyes. But he could not, though he thought he understood that talking of the burglar distressed her, and he forbade the mention of the subject in her presence again. Even that did not satisfy her. There was the same strange look in her eyes when they rested on his face, the same evident desire to say something to him, and after a time she succeeded. They were alone, he and she, for he would not leave her, and she would not suffer it if he would. She had seemed to be sleeping, and all had left the room but Jack, who sat rubbing her hand, and marvelling at the great change in her face within so short a time. “Ja—ack,” she said, and after a pause added, “Don’t—” Then she waited again, and Jack asked: “Don’t what, sister! Don’t leave you? Is that it?” She shook her head and managed to say “Catch.” Still Jack had no idea of what she meant, but he put the two words together and asked: “Don’t catch what?” “Ma—an,” she gasped with a tremendous effort, and there came a horrible suspicion across Jack’s mind. It could not be possible either, he thought, though if it were true it would account for the terrible shock to Georgie. “Did you think you knew the man?” he asked; and Georgie nodded her head, while the tears gathered in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.