"You are not of age, Millie, and you must obey your father." There was a more persuasive note in Mr. Hearty's voice.
"I am going away, father," said Millie in the same colourless voice; "and if you try and prevent me——" She did not finish.
"Good-night, mother." Millie went over to her mother and kissed her tenderly. Mrs. Hearty continued to cry. She looked appealingly at Bindle, who nodded reassuringly.
"Look 'ere, 'Earty," whispered Bindle, "you're up agin' somethin' yer don't understand, I don't rightly understand it meself. Better let me take Millie 'ome to Lizzie, she'll look after 'er all right."
For a moment Mr. Hearty hesitated; then with a glance at Millie's resolute face, he said:
"Millie, your uncle will take you to your Aunt Elizabeth."
"That is where I was going, father," she replied quietly, and Mr. Hearty felt that he had been badly beaten, and by his own daughter, who, until this evening, he had always regarded as a child.
Millie leant heavily on Bindle's arm as they walked down the High Street. She did not notice that they were going in the opposite direction from the Bindles' house. Suddenly her eyes grew wide with wonder; coming towards them was Charlie Dixon, whose half-hour had been spent in torture.
"Millie!"
She smiled up into his face wearily.