"My christian name is Marion, and they call me May," said the girl, with a spasm at her throat when she said the word "they." What were they thinking of now? What were they thinking of? Long ago both her notes had been delivered. When they knew she had gone away, what would they say? And in all this, "they" meant only two people, Charlie and her aunt.
"Well, May, come along now, and I'll do better for you than any of those very particular people. Cab--four-wheeler!"
They got in, and she gave the direction to drive to Wilkinson Street. Here she opened the door with a latch-key and went in, making Marion follow her. She told the cabman to wait.
"Now, are you sure, my dear child, that you would not like something to eat?"
"Oh, quite, thank you. I want only to sleep. You are too kind to me, and I am too tired and too miserable to thank you in any way. Indeed, I shall never be able to thank you, for I was in despair."
"Poor child! poor child! It must have been cruelly hard. Mind yourself now in the dark. I'll get a candle in my own room; I don't know where to put my hand on one here. This is my door. I've got the key in my pocket; ay, here it is. Now, my dear, come in. Oh, yes, here is the candle. That is better; now you can see around you. There is no one in the house but ourselves. The master and mistress are gone to the theatre, and the servants are out. You will find the whole of the people very nice. I have been lodging here some time, and I must say I never met nicer people--not a bit like the ordinary lodging-house folk."
"But when they come in and find me here, what will they say? What am I to say?" asked Marion faintly.
"They will say nothing to you, and you will be fast asleep when they come. I have a very simple plan of getting over that difficulty: I'll write a note. They know my door is locked. You shall take the key and lock the door on the inside. Tomorrow morning you push my note out under the door. They will not be much surprised to see it there, and they will be only astonished, not alarmed, when they hear that you are in this room; whereas, if you showed yourself to-night, or if you opened the door to-morrow morning, without their knowing about you, they might be terrified, or treat you as a thief."
She sat down at the dressing-table and wrote the note, and then, after giving a few more words of instruction, said "Good-night," and added:
"I shall not be back for a couple of weeks anyway, and during that time you are quite welcome to stay here. By that time you will have succeeded in getting a place for yourself, as you can use the landlady here as a reference, or me, for that matter, if you prefer it."