Latterly she hadn’t seen quite so much of Jimmy, and she knew why. She had met Miriam with Jimmy, and Miriam had made her blood boil -she really had. She spoke to Jimmy exactly as if she owned him body and soul, and no one had the right to do that with anyone else. And Jimmy had changed, she saw that at once. And here Kathy blamed herself very much because she had thought about herself and not about Jimmy. She had let herself feel hurt, and she had shown it not only to Miriam but to Jimmy himself. She could still see his look as she turned away, and she could still hear what Miriam had said, not loud but in that dreadful kind of whisper which carries more than anything, “What a frightful girl!” It was after that that Jimmy stopped coming to the house. And it was after that that Kathy began to find out what Jimmy meant to her.

It was no use of course. Jimmy had gone. Miriam had got him. And it wouldn’t have mattered if she had been a different kind of girl. Jimmy wanted someone who was kind and firm, and who didn’t care for herself but only for him. And Miriam wasn’t like that-she wasn’t like that at all. She was hard and self-seeking. She would be very bad for Jimmy. Kathy went through a bitter time of unhappiness, but no one knew about it. And then just when she had got through the worst of it there came that dreadful Monday morning. Len was down first for a wonder. She had come into the room and found him frowning over the paper. She had only to shut her eyes and the scene sprang to life. She came in with the eggs and bacon, and Len turned sharply and said, “Oh, I say, Kathy, here’s a dreadful thing-Jimmy’s got taken up for murder! That beastly girl he used to go about with, she got herself bumped off, and they say Jimmy did it-Jimmy! Why, he couldn’t kill a mouse!”

Kathy saw herself standing quite still. Looking back at it, she saw the whole scene just as if two other people were acting it on the stage. She saw herself putting down the eggs and bacon slowly, carefully, and then turning round to face what was coming to her. She didn’t know what she said. Her memory stuck fast on that one dreadful minute when she knew what had happened, and that Jimmy was accused of murder. It was quite unbelievable, but it had happened.

In the time since then she had gone about her usual jobs. They were not the kind of things you can leave undone. And gradually she began to know what she would do. Jimmy was at Colborough. She would go there and she would try to see him. If they wouldn’t let her, she would try and find out what she must do to get permission. She wasn’t going to ask her father-not yet. When she found out what she must do she would think about whether she would tell him or not. Just at present that would be enough. Things were like that with her-she could see one thing to do and she could do it. When it was done she would think about the next thing, but not till then.

It was Mrs. Crowley’s day for coming in, so she saw her and said that she would be out for the day.

“Mr. Len and my father will be out, but David and Heather will be home to lunch. Just tell them that I’ve gone out for the day, and I don’t know when I shall be back.”

Mrs. Crowley nodded and smiled.

“Do you good to have a day out. Too much sticking to your job’s a mistake, that’s what I say. Do you good it will to get right away from all of it. You’re only young once. You get on with it and enjoy yourself, that’s what I say.”

Mrs. Crowley left a little warmth in her mind. She was a kind woman.

She took the train to Colborough. It was Monday morning. She didn’t remember when she had come away on a Monday morning before. She had come away, and she had left everything. She was very glad that there was no one she knew in the train. She just wanted to sit quiet and think about Jimmy.

It wasn’t until she stood at the prison gates that she thought, “I don’t know what to do.” The idea of getting to the prison had been so fixed in her mind that she had never thought past it to what she would do when she got there. Now, as she surveyed the grim gateway and the high walls, a feeling of despair threatened her. At once she rose to combat it. She had thought that it was all going to be quite easy. That was nonsense. But you couldn’t do anything at all if you let things threaten you. She lifted her head and looked at the prison gates. “I won’t be frightened of them-I won’t-I won’t,” she said to herself.

As she stood there, a little lady in old-fashioned clothes came round the corner. She was walking quite briskly, and ordinarily she might not have noticed the girl who stood looking at the prison gates, but since she intended to turn in at the gates herself she did notice her and, noticing, became sympathetically attentive.

“Can I help you? Forgive me-but you look ill.”

Kathy brought her eyes back from the gates. She said, speaking slowly,

“I was thinking what a difference there was between this side of the gates and the other.”

Miss Silver’s interest was awakened. That the girl was in an abnormal state was plain. She said,

“Yes?”

Her voice full of kindness and sympathy did something to Kathy. She felt suddenly protected, as if she had come out of danger into safety. She didn’t know what she felt. In the confusion of her mind she didn’t know that she was speaking until she heard her own voice say,

“I don’t know how to get in. I’ve come a long way, and I don’t know -I don’t know-” Her voice trailed away into silence.

She stood looking at Miss Silver, and Miss Silver looked back at her. She saw a girl of two or three and twenty. She had grey eyes with very thick lashes which made them look dark, and she had dark hair. There wasn’t an atom of colour in her face. She wasn’t pretty. When she was happy she would be pleasant and-yes, rather appealing, but just now there was a dead weight of misery and hopelessness about her. It was not in Miss Silver to pass on unregarding. She said,

“You are in trouble, my dear. What is it?”

Kathy answered not so much the words as the kindness of her tone.

“I don’t know how to get in.”

“There is someone there in whom you are interested?”

“Oh, yes-”

“Then, my dear, you will have to take the proper steps. It is not possible to see a prisoner-”

“Not possible? Oh-but you were going in-”

“Yes, I was going in. But I have an appointment.”

The girl jerked into life.

“Could you find out what I have to do to see him? Will you? Oh, will you?”

“I will do what I can. Who is it you wish to see?”

“It’s Jimmy-Jimmy Mottingley.”

Miss Silver looked closely at the girl. She saw what she had seen already. She said gently,

“You are a friend of his?”

“Yes, I’m his friend. Do you know him?”

“Yes, my dear. I was on my way to see him.”

“Then-then can you take me in with you?”

Miss Silver’s manner became even kinder.

“I am afraid that would not be allowed. I have had to get special permission. But I will take a message from you if you would like to give me one.”

A little colour came into the pale cheeks and the eyes brightened.

“Will you tell him from Kathy that I know he didn’t do it. Please, what is your name?”

“I am Miss Maud Silver-a private investigator.”

“Oh-did Jimmy ask for you?”

“No, it was his father who came to see me and asked for my help.”

“Is his father being nice? He doesn’t think much of Jimmy, and he is terribly strict.”

Miss Silver smiled.

“Do not be in too much of a hurry to judge, my dear. Mr. Mottingley is in an agony about his son. He is doing all that can be done for him.”

“He doesn’t believe it then? Oh, Miss Silver, no one who knew Jimmy could really believe it-they couldn’t! It just isn’t in Jimmy to do a thing like that. He couldn’t! He really couldn’t! Jimmy is kind, and-and- Miss Silver, if I could make you understand-”