"When he went away, he stood outside the house talking to Lady Fox-Wilton. Mrs. Sabin was at the window, behind the lace curtains, with the child in her arms. She watched him for some minutes."
"Well?" said Flaxman sharply.
"She had never seen him before, and she never saw him again, until—such at least was her own story—from the door of her son's cottage, while I was with her, she saw Miss Puttenham—and Meynell—standing in the road outside."
Flaxman took a turn along the room, and paused.
"You admit that she was ill at the time she spoke to you—and in a distracted, incoherent state?"
"Certainly I admit it." Barron drew himself erect, with a slight frown, as though tacitly protesting against certain suggestions in Flaxman's manner and voice. "But now let us look at another line of evidence. You as a newcomer are probably quite unaware of the gossip there has always been in this neighbourhood, ever since Sir Ralph Wilton's death, on the subject of Sir Ralph's will. That will in a special paragraph committed Hester Fox-Wilton to Richard Meynell's guardianship in remarkable terms; no provision whatever was made for the girl under Sir Ralph's will, and it is notorious that he treated her quite differently from his other children. From the moment also of the French journey, Sir Ralph's character and temper appeared to change. I have inquired of a good many persons as to this; of course with absolute discretion. He was a man of narrow Evangelical opinions"—at the word "narrow" Flaxman threw a sudden glance at the speaker—"and of strict veracity. My belief is that his later life was darkened by the falsehood to which he and his wife committed themselves. Finally, let me ask you to look at the young lady herself; at the extraordinary difference between her and her supposed family; at her extraordinary likeness—to the Rector."
Flaxman raised his eyebrows at the last words, his aspect expressing disbelief and disgust even more strongly than before. Barron glanced at him, and then, after a moment, resumed in another manner, loftily explanatory:
"I need not say that personally I find myself mixed up in such a business with the utmost reluctance."
"Naturally," put in Flaxman dryly. "The risks attaching to it are simply gigantic."
"I am aware of it. But as I have already pointed out to you, by some strange means—connected I have no doubt with the woman, Judith Sabin, though I cannot throw any light upon them—the story is no longer in my exclusive possession, and how many people are already aware of it and may be aware of it we cannot tell. I thought it well to come to you in the first instance, because I know that—you have taken some part lately—in Meynell's campaign."