At last the little widow caught her by the arm, and drew her from the
door.

'Let me take 'im to my place,' she pleaded: 'it's no good talkin while
'ee's like 'ee is--not a bit o' good. John--John dear! you come along wi
me. Shall I get Saunders to come and speak to yer?'

A gleam of sudden hope shot into the old man's face. He had not thought
of Saunders; but Saunders had a head; he might unravel this accursed
thing.

'Aye!' he said, lurching forward, 'let's find Saunders--coom along--
let's find Saunders.'

Mary Anne guided him through the door, Bessie standing aside. As the
widow passed, she touched Bessie piteously.

'O Bessie, yer _didn't_ do it--say yer didn't!'

Bessie looked at her, dry-eyed and contemptuous. Something in the
speaker's emotion seemed to madden her.

'Don't yer be a fool, Mary Anne--that's all!' she said scornfully, and
Mary Anne fled from her.

When the door had closed upon them, Bessie came up to the fire, her
teeth chattering. She sank down in front of it, spreading out her hands
to the warmth. The children silently crowded up to her; first she pushed
them away, then she caught at the child nearest to her, pressed its fair