What should she do? Should she warn Mrs Ogilvy? But then no doubt he was in some way mixed up with Mrs Ogilvy’s son, who had lately returned home in a mysterious and unexpected way. Mr Blair was much interested by the story. He sympathised fully in the dreadful dilemma in which the poor lady found herself. He, too, knew Mrs Ogilvy, and remembered Robbie in his youth perfectly well. He was always a weak fellow, ready to be led away by any one. No doubt her idea was quite right. And then he smote his hand upon his leg, and gave vent to a whistle. “What if it should turn out to be this Lew Smith or Lew Wallace or something, for whom there was a warrant out, and a detective from America on the search!” “Lew--that is exactly the name--I had forgotten--his other name I don’t remember. He was spoken of as Lew----” “And you could swear to this fellow? You are sure you could swear to him?” “Swear! oh, with a clear conscience! But don’t ask me to, dear Tom. Think what it is for a delicate woman--the publicity, the notoriety! Oh, don’t make me appear in a court: I should never, never survive it!” she cried. “Oh, nonsense, mamma!” The respectable son-in-law was so completely innocent of all suspicion that he had adopted his wife’s name for her mother. “But I allow it’s not pleasant for a lady,” he said: “perhaps you won’t be wanted--but you could on an emergency swear to him.” “If it was of the last necessity,” she said, trembling, and her trembling was very real. She said to herself at the same moment, No! never! appear in an open court with Lew opposite to me,--never! never! She was one of the many people in the world who think, after they have put the match to the gunpowder, that there is still time to do something to make it miss fire.