But he had an uncomfortable feeling that he had owned her.
An hour later, on his way through the hall to his bedroom; he found a soiled crumpled piece of paper on the cane lounge, and opening it, read—"Please give me a penny, sir!"
"The little vagabond!" he muttered. But he put the paper into his pocket.
CHAPTER XX
THE DAY AFTER SCHOOL
A great day had dawned for Dorothea Bruce, a day long dreamed of and alas, long dreaded!
The first day after school life!
She would joyfully have taken another two years of school-days, with their sober joys and sweet intimate friendships; their griefs and small quarrellings; their lessons and their play hours; their meetings and their breakings up.
But yesterday she had "broken up" for ever. Yesterday she had mournfully given eight locks of her beautiful hair away as "keepsakes," although it must be owned to-day she had examined her hair carefully, looking over her shoulder to see how it bore the loss of its tendrils.