"Ma'am?" faltered poor Jane, blankly.
"I say why didn't you die and hide your shame and disgrace in the grave?" repeated the housekeeper, angrily. "Ah! I've found you out, Jennie Thorn! I took you in my house for an honest girl, but you've ruined yourself and disgraced your poor old parents; I'll not keep such trash in my respectable home. Out of my house you go before night!"
The poor girl rose and looked out of the window. The cold winter twilight was already falling and the great, white flakes of snow still filled the air.
"Oh! Mrs. Bowers," she said, piteously, "it is night already, and where could I go?"
"You should have thought of that sooner," said the pitiless woman. "It's too late now. Go get your cloak and hat and put them on."
Almost stunned by her sorrow Jennie mechanically obeyed her imperious command.
"Now, leave here!" said the housekeeper.
"Oh! Mrs. Bowers," cried the wretched girl, "let me stay at least until morning! Indeed I am not what you think me! I was deceived by a mock-marriage, and I thought myself an honest wife until Mr. Vinton told me just now how cruelly he had betrayed me. Oh! for God's sake have pity on me, and don't turn me out to-night in the cold and the darkness!"
For all answer Mrs. Bowers caught her by the arm and rudely dragged her along the hall to the front door.
"You can't deceive me with your trumped up lies, you shameless thing!" she said. "Go now, and never let me see your face here again."