CHAPTER VI
Sam was doomed to be late in starting on his round that morning. The moment Kitty’s mind grasped the significance of the windfall her tongue was loosed. She talked excitedly, even wildly. The sender of the notes—she wished he had given his name—must be some one whom her father had helped in the old days. Her father was always lending money that never came back. That was why there was none when he died. She hoped she might some day discover the sender, otherwise he could never realize how much more than kind, how truly wonderful, was the thing he had done. For he had given a desperate, persecuted girl her freedom!
“But what are ye going to do, Miss?” Sam ventured at last.
“I’m going to trust you,” she said, with a broken laugh.
“Aye, surely ye can do that. But I hope ye’re no’ for being reckless. Your eyes are shining something terrible.”
She laughed again, and said, “I’m going to London!”
“London!”
“To-night!”
It took Sam some moments to recover. “But what’s taking ye a’ the road to London?”
“I’ve always wanted to go. I’ve always said I would go if I had the money—and now I’ve got it!”