"To whom?" I ventured.
"To Mr. Murdstone."
"Does he know where I am, aunt?" I inquired, alarmed.
"I have told him," said my aunt, with a nod.
"Shall I—be—given up to him?" I faltered.
"I don't know," said my aunt. "We shall see."
"Oh! I can't think what I shall do," I exclaimed, "if I have to go back to Mr. Murdstone!"
"I don't know anything about it," said my aunt, shaking her head. "I can't say, I am sure. We shall see."
My spirits sank under these words, and I became very downcast and heavy of heart.
For the next few days I felt like a criminal condemned to die; although my aunt and Mr. Dick both were very kind to me. Finally the day of the expected visit from Mr. Murdstone arrived, but without bringing him till late in the afternoon. Our dinner had been postponed; but it was growing so late that my aunt had ordered it to be got ready, when she gave a sudden alarm of donkeys, and to my consternation, I beheld Miss Murdstone, on a side-saddle, ride deliberately over the sacred piece of green, and stop in front of the house, looking about her.