"You here, Arabella?"
"Yes, I am mad—mad!—at least, I was going mad, Johanna; in my agony to know what had become of you, and notwithstanding I have told Sir Richard Blunt, I had no faith in the love and the courage of any one but myself. I was coming to Todd's."
"To Todd's?"
"Yes, dear, to Todd's. I could no longer exist unless I saw with my own eyes that you were safe."
"What a fatal step that might have been."
"It might. Perhaps it would; but God, in his goodness, has again, my dear Johanna, averted it by enabling me to meet you here. Come home now—come at once."
"Yes, I—I think—"
"Come—come;—you have done already much. Let, for the future, your feelings be, that for Mark Ingestrie you have adventured what not one girl in a million would adventure."
At this mention of the name of Mark Ingestrie, a sharp cry of mental agony burst from the lips of Johanna.
"Oh, I thank you, Arabella."