Lady Cecilia exercised an almost superhuman power over her distracted feelings, so as to appear composed, while she drew forth the coin from her purse.
"It's a fine day to view London, ma'am," said the man, as he took the money.
"Beautiful," answered Cecilia.
She then began the tedious ascent.
And now what awful emotions laboured in her breast as she toiled up that winding staircase.
"My God! my God!" she murmured to herself; "is it indeed come to this?"
Once she was compelled to stop and lean against the wall for support.
Then she wrung her hands in agony—indescribable agony of mind.
"And yet there is no alternative!" she thought; "none—none! But my mother—my poor mother! what will be her feelings? Oh! better to know that I am dead, than an inmate of Newgate!"
And, somewhat encouraged in her dreadful purpose by this idea, she pursued her way.