Little did Dawn think she should meet in her own home, one who knew Ralph. It seemed an indication that she might meet him again, when and where she knew not, but of one thing she was certain, the meeting could not be one of friendship only. A conflict of emotions pulsed through her being. She could not converse, and plainly told her friend that she was too abstracted to be companionable.
“Go to Florence,” she said, “and tell her she may have you the rest of the day. To-morrow—to-morrow,” she said slowly, “I shall want you, for then I shall be myself.”
CHAPTER XXII.
When Margaret Thorne left N—, it was with the intention of following the old woman's warning, and avoiding the stranger.
“Where shall I go?” was the ever prominent question, repeated again and again, to the end of the journey.
At last the train stopped at the busy city; the close of the journey had come, but no end to her restless thoughts. While she was thus musing, she was aroused by the usual, “Have a hack? a hack, miss?” This seemed to indicate her next step. She handed her baggage check to the person who addressed her, and directed him to drive to a public house.
Seated in the carriage she was somewhat relieved of the feeling of uncertainty which had oppressed her. Alas, the poor girl did not know that at that moment the woman of evil deeds was directing the coachman where to carry the helpless victim.
And thus her fate was sealed; her child was born in a house of sin, and its little eyes first opened in its dark, immoral atmosphere.