“Nora, how queer you look!” said Molly.
“I am thinking,” said Nora. “I wonder how I am to get that money? Oh, I have it. I'll ask Stephanotie to lend it to me. Do you think she would?”
“I don't know. I think it very likely. She is generous, and she has heaps of money.”
“Then I'll go to her,” said Nora.
“Stay, Nora; if you really want to run away——”
“Run away?” said Nora. “If you like to call it so, you may; but I'm going. My own father is ill; my uncle and aunt don't hold the same position to me that my father holds. I will go to him—I will.”
“Then I tell you what it is,” said Molly, “you must do this thing carefully or you'll be locked up in your bedroom. Mother would think nothing of locking the door of your bedroom and keeping you there. You don't know mother when once her back is up. She can be immensely kind up to a certain point, and then—oh! I know it—immensely cruel.”
“What is to be done?” said Nora. “I hate doing a thing in this kind of way—in the dark, as it were.”
“You must listen to me,” said Molly; “you must be very careful. I have had some little scampers in my time, and I know how to manage matters. There is only one way for you to go.”
“What is that?”