It had been months since Marriott had gone up those steps at the Wards’, and he mounted them that November evening with a regret at the loss of the old footing, and an impatience with the events that had kept him away. He had waited for some such excuse as Gusta’s commission now gave him, and the indignation he felt at the girl’s arrest was not strong enough to suppress his gratitude for the opportunity the injustice opened to him. He was sure that Elizabeth knew he was to defend Archie; she must know how sensitive he was to the criticism that was implied in the tone with which the newspapers announced the fact. The newspapers, indeed, had shown feeling that Archie should be represented at all. They had published warnings against the law’s delays, of which, they said, there had already been too many in that county, forgetting how they had celebrated the success and promptness, the industry and enterprise of John Eades. They had spoken of Archie as if he were a millionaire, about to evade and confound law and justice by the use of money. Marriott told himself, bitterly, that Elizabeth’s circle would discuss the tragedy in this same tone, and speak of him with disappointment and distrust; that was the attitude his own friends had adopted; that was the way the lawyers and judges even had spoken to him of it; he recalled how cold and disapproving Eades had been. This recollection gave Marriott pause; would it not now be natural for Elizabeth to take Eades’s attitude? He shrank from the thought and wished he had not come, but he was at the door and he had Gusta’s message--impossible as it seemed after all these thoughts had crossed his mind. She received him in her old manner, without any of the stiffness he had feared the months might have made. "Ah, Gordon," she said. "I’m so glad you came." She led the way swiftly into the library. A little wood fire, against the chill of the autumn evening, was blazing in the wide fireplace; under the lamp on the broad table lay a book she must have put down a moment before. "What have you been reading? Oh, _Walden_!" And he turned to her with the smile of their old comradeship in such things. "I’ve been reading it again, yes," she said, "and I’ve wished to talk it over again with you. So you see I’m glad you came." "I came with a message from--" "Oh!" The bright look faded from her eyes. "Well, I’m glad, then, that some one sent you to me." He saw his mistake, and grieved for it. "I wanted to come," he stammered. "I’ve been intending to come, Elizabeth, anyway, and--" He felt he was only making the matter worse, and he hated himself for his awkwardness. "Well," she was saying, "sit down then, and tell me whom this fortunate message is from."