"Peggy is very young; it was not her fault. She is so young she
doesn't even know where she went. She was found loitering around
the bridge--a dangerous place for a child, but we've been very
busy all day--and she was found there and taken along by--by the
other person. I hope that you will excuse it, sir."

Was she giving the judge an opportunity to recover from his
embarrassment, or was she simply making good her own cause?
Whichever impulse animated her, the result was favourable to both.
Judge Ostrander lost something of his strained look, and it was no
longer difficult for her to meet his eye.

Nevertheless, what he had to say came with a decided abruptness.

"Who is the woman, Mrs. Yardley? That's what I have come to learn,
and not to complain of your child."

The answer struck him very strangely, though he saw nothing to
lead him to distrust her candour.

"I don't know, Judge Ostrander. She calls herself Averill, but
that doesn't make me sure of her. You wonder that I should keep a
lodger about whom I have any doubts, but there are times when Mr.
Yardley uses his own judgment, and this is one of the times. The
woman pays well and promptly," she added in a lower tone.

"Her status? Is she maid, wife or widow?"

"Oh, she says she is a widow, and I see every reason to believe
her."