"For shame!—to drive that poor fellow mad, and then call him back whenever you want a service from him!"
"It will give him far more delight than it will us."
"No, Nelly; I have no heart to go anywhere. If you have promised to meet your Frank, as I imagine, you ought to go off by yourself at once."
"I'm not going to do anything of the kind. Tell me what you mean to do if you remain in the house."
"See if there are any more letters I can write, and watch the postman as he comes round from Tottenham Court Road."
"Then you can't go on doing that for ever. Put on your bonnet, and let us have a walk down Regent Street, and then come and have dinner with me, and spend the afternoon with me, until I go to the theatre."
This she was ultimately persuaded to do. Nelly did her utmost to keep her friend in good spirits; and altogether the day was passed pleasantly enough.
But the reaction came when Nelly had to go down to the theatre alone.
"You look so very wretched and miserable," said she, to Annie. "I can't bear the idea of your going home to that dull room. And what nonsense it is not to have a fire because you can't afford it! Come you down to the theatre; Mr. Melton will give you a stage-box all to yourself; then you'll go home with me to-night, and stay with me."
She would not do that. She went home to the cold dark room—she lit only one candle for economy's sake—and she asked if there were any letters. There were none.