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Rh ment. Could it be possible that Lady Mason had forged the will,—that this deed had been done by his mother's friend, by the woman who had so nearly become Lady Orme of The Cleeve? The idea was terrible to him as he rode home, but yet he could not rid himself of it. And if this were so, was it also possible that his grandfather suspected it? Had that marriage been stopped by any such suspicion as this? Was it this that had broken the old man down and robbed him of all his spirit? That his mother could not have any such suspicion seemed to him to be made clear by the fact that she still treated Lady Mason as her friend. And then why had he been specially enjoined not to speak to his grandfather as to the details of the trial?

But it was impossible for him to meet Sir Peregrine without speaking of the trial. When he entered the house, which he did by some back entrance from the stables, he found his grandfather standing at his own room door. He had heard the sounds of the horse, and was unable to restrain his anxiety to learn.

'Well,' said Sir Peregrine, 'what has happened?'

'It is not over as yet. It will last, they say, for three days.'

'But come in, Peregrine;' and he shut the door, anxious rather that the servants should not witness his own anxiety than that they should not hear tidings which must now be common to all the world. 'They have begun it?'

'Oh, yes! they have begun it.'

'Well, how far has it gone?'

'Sir Richard Leatherham told us the accusation they make against her, and then they examined Dockwrath and one or two others. They have not got further than that.'

'And the—Lady Mason—how does she bear it?'

'Very well I should say. She does not seem to be nearly as nervous now, as she was while staying with us.'

'Ah! indeed. She is a wonderful woman,—a very wonderful woman. So she bears up? And your mother, Peregrine?'

'I don't think she likes it.'

'Likes it! Who could like such a task as that?'

'But she will go through with it.'

'I am sure she will. She will go through with anything that she undertakes. And—and—the judge said nothing—I suppose?'

'Very little, sir.'

And Sir Peregrine again sat down in his arm-chair as though the work of conversation were too much for him. But neither did he dare to speak openly on the subject; and yet there was so much that he was anxious to know. Do you think she will escape? That was the question which he longed to ask but did not dare to utter.

And then, after a while, they dined together. And Peregrine