Julia Dodd entered the box, and a sunbeam seemed to fill the court. She knew what to do: her left hand was gloved, but her white right hand bare. She kissed the book, and gave her evidence in her clear, mellow, melting voice; gave it reverently and modestly, for to her the court was a church. She said how long she had been acquainted with Alfred, and how his father was adverse, and her mother had thought it was because they did not pass for rich, and had told her they were rich, and with this she produced David's letter, and she also swore to having met Alfred and others carrying her father in a swoon from his father's very door. She deposed to Alfred's sanity on her wedding eve, and on the day his recapture was attempted.

Saunders, against his own judgment, was instructed to cross-examine her; and, without meaning it, he put a question which gave her deep distress. "Are you now engaged to the plaintiff?" She looked timidly round, and saw Alfred, and hesitated. The serjeant pressed her politely, but firmly.

"Must I reply to that?" she said piteously.

"Then, no. Another misfortune has now separated him and me for ever."

"My father is said to have died at sea: and my mother thinks _he_ is to blame."

_The judge to Saunders._--What on earth has this to do with Hardie against Hardie?

_Saunders._--You are warmly interested in the plaintiff's success?

_Colt_ (aside to Garrow).--The fool is putting his foot into it: there's not a jury in England that would give a verdict to part two interesting young lovers.