The day of the petty sessions at Newton followed closely in the same week, within two days, and whilst excitement was at its height. The court-house was packed, there was hardly standing room; and there was a full bench of magistrates. Kate was brought in, looking pale; her broad white forehead like ivory, with the dark hair drawn back on either side; the dark eyebrows and long dusky lashes showing conspicuously on account of her pallor; and the lustrous blue eyes, so full of light, alone giving brightness to her face. Though pale, she was composed. She no longer trembled, and her lips were closed and firm. The transparent purity, the innocent modesty of her bearing and appearance, impressed the court. She wore a black dress, as she had been accustomed to wear since the fire at the Cellars, in which it was supposed her father had died, but the black was spotted with white, as a sort of concession to the supposition that he might be still alive. Mr. Fielding was present. He had been courteously accommodated with a chair within the precincts of the bench; he caught Kitty’s eye, and raised his finger, pointing upwards. She understood him, and smiled reassuringly. Far more anxious than Kitty was Walter Bramber, who had given a holiday to the school, with the rector’s consent, and had come into Newton to hear the case. He was not able to master his agitation; his pain to see Kitty in so conspicuous a position, and in such danger, labouring under an accusation which he was certain was unfounded. Pasco Pepperill was present; he would have to appear in the witness-box. He had sent for his solicitor to conduct the prosecution. As soon as the case was called, Mr. Squire stood up. He had, he said, a painful task imposed on him, and none felt it more deeply than his client, the plaintiff, who naturally shrank from taking a step of so grave a character, against one who was his wife’s niece, young in age, and who had been for many years an inmate of his house, and one for whom hitherto he had entertained an almost fatherly regard. Indeed, so deeply did the plaintiff feel this, that if possible he would have held back altogether, and have borne his loss in silence. But there were attendant circumstances which precluded him from adopting this course. He acted in the matter solely from a sense of duty he owed to himself and to the neighbourhood, and he might add, of humanity towards the unhappy individual placed before the bench under the grave charge of arson.