not feel at all certain that it worked surely. Her father's fate rose
before her as a warning of the law's uncertainty and injustice. Could
she hope to be more fortunate than he had been? Wiggins had passed his
life in the study of the law, and knew how to work it for his own
private ends. He had once succeeded in his dark plot against her father.
Might not his present "plan," about which he and his associate talked,
be equally successful? Mrs. Dunbar had called her a "marplot." To mar
the plot of this man, and avenge upon him the wrongs of her father,
would be sweet indeed; but could it be possible for her to do it? That
was the question.

[Illustration: "CRIME! GUILT!"]

The next morning came, and Edith rose full of a new purpose. She thought
of her efforts on the preceding day, and concluded that she had made one
great mistake. She saw now that Miss Plympton had most probably called,
and had not been admitted. If she had only remained by the gate, she
could have seen her friend, and told her all. That she had not thought
of this before was now a matter of the deepest regret, and she could
only hope that it might not yet be too late. She determined to go to
the gates at once and watch.

She therefore hurried down to the gates as soon as she could. No efforts
were made to prevent her. She had feared that she might be locked up in
the Hall; but, to her surprise and relief, she was not. Such forbearance
made her situation still more perplexing. It was evident that Wiggins
hesitated about proceeding to extremities with her, and did not venture
as yet to exercise more than a general restraint.

Arriving at the gate, Edith sat down close by it on a seat in front of