At least a dozen times over she had slipped off her shoes and ascended the stairs to find that, utterly exhausted, Mrs Hallam and Julia were sleeping heavily, the latter on a chair, with her arms clasped about her mother’s neck.
“Poor dears!” said Thisbe, as she descended; “I daren’t wake them, but they ought to have a cup of tea.”
“Ah,” she exclaimed softly, “what would she say? I shall never dare to look her in the face again.”
At last the trouble came.
“I knew it,” said Thisbe, as she heard the steps at the door. “He was bound to find us. Yes, they’re both there. Well, it’s his own work and not mine. What shall I do?”
She rose from her chair, looking very resolute. “I’ll face them bold. It’s the only way.”
She heard the murmur of men’s voices, and then there was a rap at the door given with the handle of a whip. She went to the door, unfastened and threw it open.
“What is it?” she said.
Hallam and Crellock were on the threshold, and the latter exclaimed, as soon as he saw her:
“I thought so.”