"Why unfortunately? You should be glad to have strengthened the hands of justice. However, we need not speak of that now. Will you promise to withhold your confession for the time I ask?" "I promise nothing, Mr. Tait. Good-evening!" "But, Miss Paynton," he said, following her again, "you surely will not be so rash. You can have no idea how important these matters are to my friend. Mr. Hilliston is certain to inform your father within the next twenty-four hours, so surely you can give us that time to do what we can. I beg of you----" Jenny stopped irresolutely, and looked at Tait with a mixture of anger and doubt. The matter had now grown so intricate that she did not know what to do, what to say. She had not known Tait long enough to be guided by his advice, or to rely on his judgment; and her impulse was to tell her father and receive suggestions as to what was best to be done under the circumstances. Yet, she also mistrusted Hilliston, as his connection with the Horriston case seemed to her to be by no means as simple as had appeared at first sight. She was suspicious of him, and if he came over to Thurston especially to ask her to be silent, that would go a long way toward confirming her doubts. And then, after all, no harm could be done within the twenty-four hours, as afterward she could tell her father; thus, at once satisfying her conscience and her curiosity, she made the compromise. "Very well, Mr. Tait," she said gravely. "I promise to be silent for twenty-four hours." CHAPTER XXIV. A NEW SUSPICION. SPENSER TAIT walked back to the Manor House with the pleasing conviction that he had passed a very profitable hour. He had warned Jenny about the probable movements of Hilliston, and thus had put her on her guard against that astute individual. Once an idea enters a woman's head, it is impossible to get it out again, and Tait, by half hinting a confirmation of Jenny's suspicions regarding the lawyer, had made her uneasily conscious that Hilliston was a man to be watched and reckoned with. If Hilliston fulfilled Tait's prophecy, the little man believed that Jenny would resent his interference, penetrate his motives, and thwart him, if possible. In spite of her denial that she thought him guilty, Tait could not but perceive that the reading of the case had not biased her in favor of the dead man's friend. Jenny believed that Jeringham had committed the crime, but, if Hilliston acted indiscreetly, it would not take much to induce her to alter that opinion. Tait chuckled as he thought of these things; for he had not only cut the ground from under Hilliston's feet by warning Jenny of his possible arrival, but had, as he truly thought, converted a passive spectator into an active enemy.