This was done, and she left the place, half timid, half ashamed, and wholly discouraged.
But the darkest hour is sometimes nearest the dawn. A great overwhelming surprise awaited her. She had scarcely left the shop when a glad voice cried:
“I have found you at last, Florence!”
She looked up and saw—Dodger.
But not the old Dodger. She saw a nicely dressed young gentleman, larger than the friend she had parted with six months before, with a brighter, more intelligent, and manly look.
“Dodger!” she faltered.
“Yes, it is Dodger.”
“Where did you come from?”
“From San Francisco. But what have you been doing there?”
And Dodger pointed in the direction of the pawnbroker’s shop.