"I shall never hold up my head again," said Miss Crawford, and laid it feebly down as if she were tired out. The telegram came. Emmeline had not been heard of, and Mr. Nash would be at Brenthill that afternoon. Judith searched the little room which the school-girl had occupied, but no indication of her intention to fly was to be found. She dared not question the servants before Mr. Nash's arrival. Secrecy might be important, and there would be an end to all hope of secrecy if once suspicion were aroused. "There's nothing to do but to wait," she said, coming down to Miss Crawford. "I think, if you don't mind, I'll go home for an hour or so." "No, no, no! don't go!" "I must," said Judith. "I shall not be long." "You will." "No. An hour and a half--two hours at the utmost." "Oh, I understand," said Miss Crawford. "You will never come back." "Never come back? I will promise you, if you like, that I will be here again by half-past two--that is, if I go now." "Oh, of course I can't keep you: if you will go, you will. But I think it is very cruel of you. You will leave me to face Mr. Nash alone." "Indeed I will not," the girl replied. "And, after all, it is not half so bad for you as for me. He can't blame you. It will kill me, I think, but he can't say anything to you. Oh, Judith, I'm only a stupid old woman, but I have meant to be kind to you." "No one could have been kinder," said Judith. "Miss Crawford, whatever happens, believe me I am grateful." "Then you will stop--you will stop? He can't say anything to you, my dear." Judith was cold with terror at the thought of what Mr. Nash might have to say to her. At the same moment she was burning with anxiety to get to Bellevue street and find some letter from Bertie. She freed her hands gently, but firmly. Miss Crawford sank back in mute despair, as if she had received her death-wound. "Listen to me," said Judith. "I _must_ go, but I will come back. I would swear it, only I don't quite know how people swear," she added with a tremulous little laugh. "Dear Miss Crawford, you trusted mamma: as surely as I am her daughter you may trust me. Won't you trust me, dear?" "I'll try," said the old lady. "But why must you go?" "I must, really." "It won't be so bad for you: he can't blame you," Miss Crawford reiterated, drearily pleading. "Judith, no one ever had the heart to be so cruel as you will be if you don't come back." "But I will," said Judith. She made her escape, and met Percival Thorne on her way to Bellevue street. "And now what is to be done?" she asked, looking up at him when she had told him all. "No letter--no sign of Bertie."