"Oh," Mrs. Armour was about to start towards the parlour, when Herries stopped her. "No. Go back to your husband. Take him home, and get him sober. If he dares to say another word about Miss Tedder, I shall have him arrested." "Yes, yes, I'll go,--I'll stop him speaking. But oh, sir," Mrs. Armour wheeled at the door with clasped hands, "believe me, my young lady is innocent." "Yes, I believe that, but I must hear what she has to say, before exonerating her. Now go." Mrs. Armour fled like a hare, and clutching her husband dragged him home, scolding him all the way in a low vehement tone. "You fool, you fool," she muttered, "you'll ruin me, you'll ruin yourself." "I didn't mean," mumbled Armour, now growing sober and terrified, for he really had scanty reason to say what he had said. "You didn't mean,--you born fool. If this ends in a police court it will be the worse for us both. My young lady is innocent, but you have placed her in a most dangerous position. You beast, you ass, you wretch, but I'll trounce you. I'll take it out of you," and half-dragged, half-driven, Armour was brought back to his home. In the meanwhile Herries gave Alice a shilling to hold her tongue, promising her more if she did not speak. "And especially, not to Mrs. Narby," said Herries, impressively. "I'm fly," said the small servant, biting the shilling to see that it was a good one. "I don't tell her anything, if I can help. She hammers me too hard, sir." "You poor little devil," said Herries pityingly, "when these things are settled we must see if we can get you a good home," and so saying he patted the miserable Alice on her head of tangled hair and walked into the parlour. Maud had revived, as Señora Guzman had dashed water on her face with no gentle hand, and was now standing at the end of the room, looking at her with extreme aversion. Maud herself, with all the spirit knocked out of her, was seated at the table with her face hidden in her hands, weeping silently. Badly as the girl had behaved, her cousin could not help feeling sorry for her, especially, when she raised her small, pathetic, childish face. He closed the door, and came forward gravely. "Well, Maud, and what have you to say to this accusation?" "Nothing,--I'm sure I was very fond of poor pa," she sobbed, looking a woeful spectacle with her damp dress and tearful face. "No one was more sorry than I was when he was killed." "You were not sorry for me," Herries could not help remarking. "I thought you had killed pa." "What? When you accused Señora Guzman of the crime, to my wife." The Mexican lady started, and her fine eyes flashed. "You accused me," she said, drawing herself up. "Yes! and I believe you did it," said Maud, raising her head and darting a malignant look at her rival. For the moment it looked as though Donna Maria would fling herself on her enemy, but controlling her temper with a violent effort, she laughed coldly.