Ralph, true to his word, appeared again in a few minutes carrying a Gladstone bag, an overcoat, and a mackintosh. The bag with the change of linen in it which he had hoped to keep, went for a little more than he had expected, and with the overcoat brought in enough money for the journey, and ninepence to spare. He decided not to part with the mackintosh, and gathering up his sheaf of tickets, bade the old Scotsman good-day, and went at once to the manager’s deserted rooms.
Ivy had grown tired of talking to the landlady, and being in spite of her troubles exceedingly hungry, had taken her place at the forlorn breakfast table, and was trying to find comfort in a cup of cold coffee.
“Come, that’s a good idea,” said Ralph, cheerfully. “And now I think of it, I, too, am hungry. Why should we not eat? After Mrs. Skoot’s pressing invitation it’s a clear duty!”
Ivy smiled, and began to fill his cup for him.
“What do the rest of the company think I had better do?” she asked, anxiously.
“They all agree that you had better go back to London with Miss Kay. She will not be able to take you home with her, but I’ve been thinking it over, and I’m sure your best way will be to go to my old landlady Mrs. Dan Doolan. She is the soul of good-nature and as long as they have a crust in the house they will share it with you.”
“But I don’t know them, and I can’t go and beg,” said Ivy, with an air of distaste.
“I will write a letter to them which will explain everything,” said Ralph. “They are good, trustworthy people who will see that no harm happens to you; they will, I daresay, house you while you look for another engagement.”
“How am I to get the money for my ticket?”
“I will see to that for you.”