without making a reply. The truth is, Mrs. Crayford was thinking.

She saw Clara's position plainly; she understood the disturbing
effect of it on the mind of a young girl. Still, making all
allowances, she felt quite at a loss, so far, to account for
Clara's excessive agitation. Her quick observing faculty had just
detected that Clara's face showed no signs of relief, now that
she had unburdened herself of her secret. There was something
clearly under the surface here--something of importance that
still remained to be discovered. A shrewd doubt crossed Mrs.
Crayford's mind, and inspired the next words which she addressed
to her young friend.

"My dear," she said abruptly, "have you told me all?"

Clara started as if the question terrified her. Feeling sure that
she now had the clew in her hand, Mrs. Crayford deliberately
repeated her question, in another form of words. Instead of
answering, Clara suddenly looked up. At the same moment a faint
flush of color appeared in her face for the first time.

Looking up instinctively on her side, Mrs. Crayford became aware
of the presence, in the conservatory, of a young gentleman who
was claiming Clara as his partner in the coming waltz. Mrs.
Crayford fell into thinking once more. Had this young gentleman
(she asked herself) anything to do with the untold end of the
story? Was this the true secret of Clara Burnham's terror at the
impending return of Richard Wardour? Mrs. Crayford decided on
putting her doubts to the test.