"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I can't go just this moment. Bid the man wait."
"It is late already," said Reynolds, taking out his watch. "The train starts in twenty minutes."
"Oh, dear! oh, dear! and when does the next go? I can't go by this. Can I, dear Mrs. Danvers? It is impossible."
"Another starts in an hour afterward."
"Oh! that will do—tell Sarah to be ready for that. Well, my dear, go on, go on—dear Lettice, you were about to tell us how all this happened—but just another cup of tea. Do you like it strong?"
"I like it any way," said Lettice, who was beginning to recover her spirits, "I have not tasted any thing so comfortable for a very long time."
"Dear me! dear me!"
"You must have suffered very much, I fear, my dear young lady," said Mrs. Danvers, in a kind voice of interest, "before you could have sunk to the level of that miserable home where I found you."
"Yes," said Lettice. "Every one suffers very much, be the descent slow or rapid, when he has to fall so far. But what were my sufferings to poor Myra's!"
"And why were your sufferings as nothing in comparison with poor Myra's?"