"I went to see Paul," she said.
"Why?"
"I went to tell him that I loved him," she replied simply. "I knew what he must be suffering, and I know that he loves me, because he told me so. And I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to assure him that all would be well."
The judge started back as though someone had struck him. "You love——"
"Yes," she interrupted. "I told him so, too. I never loved Mr. Wilson, father. You know I didn't. I had not thought that I really cared for anyone until, until——"
"But you love Paul Stepaside?"
The words came from him as if mechanically. Indeed, he had no knowledge that he had uttered them.
"I do," she replied. "And when he's at liberty I shall be his wife."
For a moment the judge rocked to and fro like a drunken man, and then, staggering towards a chair, fell into it, and covered his face with his hands.
"Father!" cried the girl. "Did you not guess?"