'I'll believe her a good deal sooner than you,' returned Clara
sharply. 'Why, anybody can see she's tellin' the truth--can't
they, father? She's half-scared out of her life. Come in here, Jane;
you shall stay here till morning.'

By this time all the grown-up people in the house were on the
staircase; the clang of tongues was terrific. Clem held her ground
stoutly, and in virulence was more than a match for all her
opponents. Even Bob did not venture to take her part; he grinned
down over the banisters, and enjoyed the entertainment immensely.
Dick Snape, whose room Bob shared, took the opportunity of paying
off certain old scores he had standing against Clem. Mr. Marple, the
cab-driver, was very loud and very hoarse in condemnation of such
barbarity. Mrs. Hewett, looking as if she had herself risen from a
coffin, cried shame on the general heartlessness with which Jane was
used.

Clara held to her resolve. She led Jane into the bedroom, then, with
a parting shot at Miss Peckover, herself entered and locked the
door.

'Drink some water, Jane,' she said, doing her best to reassure the
child. 'You're safe for to-night, and we'll see what Mrs. Peckover
says about this when she comes back to-morrow.'

Jane looked at her rescuer with eyes in which eternal gratitude
mingled with fear for the future. She could cry now, poor thing, and
so little by little recover herself. Words to utter her thanks she
had none; she could only look something of what she felt. Clara made
her undress and lie down with little Tom on the mattress. In a