"No," she cried, ignoring his request. "I have come for justice to my poor husband, who for the faults of others, by the scheming of his enemies, is now lying in prison awaiting his trial." Sir Gordon leaned his elbow on the chimney-piece, and with his finger nails tapped the top of the black marble clock that ticked so steadily there. "You went over to Lindum yesterday to see Hallam?" "I did." "He requested you to come and see me?" "Yes; it was his wish, or--" "You would not have come," he said with a sad smile upon his lips. "No. I would have stood in the place where the injustice of men had placed me, and trusted to my own integrity and innocence for my acquittal." Sir Gordon drew a long breath like a sigh of relief. He had been watching Millicent closely, as if he were suspicious either that she was playing a part, or had been biassed by her husband. But the true loving trust and belief of the woman shone out in her countenance and rang in her words. True woman--true wife! Let the world say what it would, her place was by her husband, and in his defence she was ready to lay down her life. Sir Gordon sighed then with relief, for even now his old love for Millicent burned brightly. She had been his idol of womanly perfection, and he had felt, as it were, a contraction about his heart as the suspicion crept in for a moment that she was altered for the worse-- changed by becoming the wife of Robert Hallam. "Mrs Hallam--Millicent, my child, what am I to say to you?" he cried at length. "How am I to speak without wounding you? I would not give you pain to add to that which you already suffer." She looked at him angrily. His words seemed to her, in her overstrained anxiety, hypocritical and evasive. "I asked you why my husband is cast into prison for the crimes of others?" Sir Gordon gazed at her pityingly. "You do not answer," she said. "Then tell me this: Are you satisfied with the degradation he has already suffered? Is he not to be set free?" "Can you not spare me, Mrs Hallam? Will you not spare yourself?" "No. I cannot spare you. I cannot spare myself. My husband is helpless: the fight against his enemies must be carried on by me." "His enemies, Mrs Hallam? Who are they? Himself and his companions." "You, and that despicable creature who has professed to be our friend, the companion of my child. I saw you planning it together with your wretched menial, Thickens." Sir Gordon shook his head sadly. "My dear Mrs Hallam," he said, "you do us all an injustice. Let us change this conversation. Believe me, I want to help you, your child, and your ruined parents." Millicent started at the last words--ruined parents. There her ideas were obscured and wanting in the clearness with which she believed she saw the truth. But even the explanation of this seemed come at last, and there was a scornful look in her eyes as she exclaimed: "I want no help. I want justice."