There was no help for it. Lavinia knew her mother's temper when it was roused. Slowly rubbing her eyes she sat up, a rueful and repentant little beauty, but having withal an expression in her eyes which seemed to suggest that she wasn't going to be brow-beaten without a struggle.
"I ran away from school to be married," said she with a little pause between each word. "I thought I was being taken to the Fleet, but when I saw the coach wasn't going the right way I knew I was being tricked. On London Bridge I broke the coach window, opened the door and escaped."
"A parcel of lies! I don't believe one of 'em," interjected the irate dame.
"I can't help that. It's the truth all the same. I cut my arm with the broken glass. Perhaps that'll convince you."
Lavinia held out her bandaged arm.
"No, it won't. What's become of your shoe?"
"I took it off to break the window with the heel and afterwards lost it."
Mrs. Fenton was silent. If Lavinia were telling false-hoods she told them remarkably well. She spoke without the slightest hesitation and the story certainly hung together.
"After I jumped from the coach I ran to the river, down the stairs at the foot of the bridge. The water was low and I stood under the bridge afraid to move. A terrible fight was going on above me. I don't know what it was about. The shooting and yelling went on for a long time and I dursn't stir. I would have taken a wherry but no waterman came near. Then the tide turned; the water came about my feet and I crept up the stairs. I was in the Borough, but I dursn't go far. The street was full of drunken people and I crept into a doorway and hid there. I suppose I looked like a beggar, for no one noticed me. Then when the streets were quieter I came here."
It will be noticed that Lavinia did not think it necessary to mention the handsome young man who had rescued her.