“Is it a delusion?” Geoff asked, making his mother tremble. Of whom could the boy be thinking? He was thinking of nobody--till it suddenly occurred to him how the eyes of that little girl at Penninghame might look if they were older; and that most likely it was the same eyes which had made up to John Musgrave for the loss of everything. After all, perhaps this unfortunate one, whom everybody pitied, might have had some compensation. As he was thinking thus, and his mother was watching him, very anxious to know what he was thinking, Lady Stanton came in suddenly by a private door, which opened from her own room. She had a little additional colour on her cheeks, and was breathless with haste. “Oh, where is Geoff, I wonder?” she said; then seeing him, ran up to him. “Geoff, there is some one down-stairs you will like to see. If you are really so interested in all that sad story--really so anxious to help poor John----” “Yes, who is it? Tell me who it is, and I will go.” “Elizabeth Bampfylde is down-stairs,” she said, breathless, putting her hand to her heart. “The mother of the man Sir Henry was speaking of--the mother of--the girl. There is no one knows so much as that woman. She is sitting there all alone, and there is nobody in the way.” “Mary!” cried the elder lady, “is it right to plunge my boy into it? We have suffered enough already. Is it right to make Geoff a victim--Geoff, who knows nothing about it? Oh, my dear, I know you mean it for the best!” Mary fell back abashed and troubled. “I did not mean to harm him, Lady Stanton. I did not think it would harm him. Never mind; never mind, if your mother does not approve. After all, perhaps, she knows no more than we do,” she said, with an attempt at a smile. “The sight of her made me forget myself.” “Where is she?” said the young man. “Ah! that is just what overcame me,” said Mary, with a sob, and a strange smile at the irony of fate--“down-stairs in _my_ husband’s room. I have seen her often in the road and in the village--but here, in my house! Never mind, Geoff; it was she that helped him to get out of prison. They were bold, they had no fear of anything; not like us, who are ladies, who cannot stir a step without being watched. Never mind, never mind! it is not really of any consequence. She is sitting there in--in my husband’s room!” Mary said, with a sob and a little hysterical laugh. It was not strange to the others, but simple enough and natural. She alone knew how strange it was. “But stop, stop--oh, don’t pay any attention. Don’t go now, Geoff!”