“To Southampton!” echoed Lottie in surprise.
“Yes; there was another letter yesterday, not from my poor Abner, but from his landlord: your father’s worse again—very ill; I’ve been a-borrowing, and begging, and scraping, and I’ve just got money enough for the journey; but these here five pounds have come as a blessing from Heaven! Mrs. Green has promised to do the ironing, and to tidy up things while I’m away—”
“She need do nothing; I’m here, I’ve left my place,” said Lottie.
“Left your place!” exclaimed Deborah, dropping on the table the five gold pieces which her daughter had brought.
“Left your place!” repeated Mrs. Green, who had followed Lottie up the stairs, and who now turned a very inquisitive look on the money which had so unexpectedly and unaccountably been added to her neighbour’s little store.
Mrs. Stone had no time for questioning, though Lottie’s few words had laid a fresh burden of care on her grief-worn spirit. On Mrs. Green’s informing her that “she’d better be off sharp, or she’d miss the train,” Deborah caught up her money and her carpet-bag, bade a hurried good-bye to her daughter and her son, and hastened off to the station. Mrs. Green remained in the little room, determined, as she said to herself, “to get to the bottom of the business.”
“I say, Lottie,” she observed to the weary girl, who was taking off her wet bonnet and cloak, “was it you as brought them ’ere sovereigns to your mother?”
“Yes,” said the unsuspicious Lottie, wishing heartily that the stout landlady would go and leave her to rest and collect her thoughts.