"Will you state what happened?" asked the sergeant, blandly.
Hyacinth looked at the judge: her lips opened, and then closed, as though she would fain speak, but could not. It was an interval of intense excitement in court.
"Will you tell us why you were in his company, Miss Vaughan, and whither you went?" said the sergeant.
"My lord," she said—for it was at the judge she looked always—of the presence of the jury she seemed totally ignorant—"I will tell you all about it. I went away with Mr. Lennox—to go to London—to be married there."
"Unknown to your friends?" asked the judge.
"Unknown to anyone."
Here Hyacinth paused, and the lips that had been speaking turned deathly white.
"Tell us about it in your own way, Miss Vaughan," said the judge—the sight of that tortured young face moved him to deepest pity—"do not be afraid."
Then the fear seemed to die away from her: in all that vast assembly she saw no face but that of the judge looking steadily and intently at her own.
"My lord," she said, "I was very dull at home; everyone was kind to me, but there was no one there of my own age, and I was very dull. I made Mr. Lennox's acquaintance, and liked him very much—I thought I loved him—and when he asked me to run away from home and marry him I was quite willing."