Mr. Blodwell adjusted his eye-glass and perused the document, which set forth that Miss N. Gale entered the service of Mrs. Philip Horne, of Balmoral Villa, Bournemouth, as companion to that lady, in March, 1883, and remained in such service until the month of July, 1883; that, during the whole of such period, she conducted herself with propriety; that she read aloud with skill, ordered a household with discretion, and humoured a fussy old lady with tact (this is a paraphrase of the words of the writer); finally, that she left, by her own desire, to the regret of the above-mentioned Susan Horne. Neaera watched Mr. Blodwell as he read. "Eighteen eighty-three?" said he; "that's the year in question?" "Yes, and April is the month in question--the month I am supposed to have spent in prison!" "You didn't show this to George?" "No. Why should I? Besides, I didn't know then when he dated my crime." Mr. Blodwell thought it a little queer that she had not asked him. "He should certainly see it at once. Have you seen anything of Mrs. Horne lately?" "Oh no; I should be afraid she must be dead. She was an old lady, and very feeble." "It is--it may be--very lucky--your having this." "Yes, isn't it? I should never have remembered the exact time I went to Mrs. Horne's." Mr. Blodwell took his departure in a state of mind that he felt was unreasonable. Neaera had been, he told himself, most frank, most charming, most satisfactory. Yet he was possessed with an overpowering desire to cross-examine Neaera. "Perhaps it's only habit," he said to himself. "A protestation of innocence raises all my fighting instincts." The next day witnessed the publication of the "Second Paragraph," and the second paragraph made it plain to everybody that somebody must vindicate his or her character. The public did not care who did it, but it felt itself entitled to an action, wherein the whole matter should be threshed out for the furtherance of public justice and entertainment. The _Bull's-eye_ itself took this view. It implored Neaera, or George, or somebody to sue it, if they would not sue one another. It had given names, addresses, dates, and details. Could the most exacting plaintiff ask more? If no action were brought, it was clear that Neaera had stolen the shoes, and that George had slandered her, and that the Nestons in general shrank from investigation into the family history; all this was still clearer, if they pursued their extraordinary conduct in not forwarding personal narratives for the information of the public and the accommodation of the _Bull's-eye_.