These last words she uttered in a half-tone of self-reproach, as if she upbraided herself with having left her unfortunate cousin to the mercy of his brutal father.
But how could she have done otherwise, poor girl?
The conversation between that interesting young creature and the hump-back continued in pretty much the same strain for about half-an-hour, when Gibbet took leave of his cousin.
"You will come and see me next Sunday, John," said Katharine, as she shook him warmly by the hand.
"Next Sunday evening, dear Kate," he replied, and then departed.
CHAPTER CXLVIII.
THE OLD HAG'S INTRIGUE.
On the morning after she had received the visit from the Reverend Reginald Tracy, the old hag rose early, muttering to herself, "I must lose no time—I must lose no time."
She then proceeded to dress herself in her holiday attire, each article of which was purchased with the wages of her infamous trade.
Female frailty—female shame had clothed the hag: female dishonour had produced her a warm gown, a fine shawl, and a new bonnet.
When she was young she had lived by the sale of herself: now that she was old she lived by the sale of others.