"Now, Nelly, you must be a good girl," said Mrs. Dixon, rising and coming forward--she was a strange, ugly woman, with an almost bald head--"you must do what your poor papa wud ha wished you to do. Let the lady go, an I'll take care on you same as one o' my own, till they can come and take you to the House." "Oh! don't say that!" cried Laura. But it was too late. The child had heard the word--had understood it. She looked wildly from one to the other, then she threw herself against the side of the chair, in a very madness of crying. Now, she pushed even Laura away. It seemed as though at the sound of that one word she had felt herself indeed forsaken, she had become acquainted with her grief. Laura's eyes filled with tears. Polly, standing at the door, spoke to her in vain. * * * * * "There's another train--Mr. Seaton said so!" Laura threw the words over her shoulder as though in anger. Hubert Mason stood behind her. In her excitement it seemed to her that he was dragging her by force from this sobbing and shrieking misery before her. "I don't believe he's right. I never heard of any train later than the 7.10," said Mason, in perplexity. "Go and ask him." Mason went away and returned. "Of course he swears there is. You won't get Seaton to say he's mistaken in a hurry. All I know is I never heard of it." "He must be right," said Laura obstinately. "Don't trouble about me--send a cab. Oh!" She put her hands to her ears for an instant, as they stood by the door, as though to shut out the child's cries. Hubert looked down upon her, hesitating, his face flushed, his eyes drawn and sombre. "Now--you'll let me take you home, Miss Laura? It'll be very late for you. I can get back to-morrow." She looked up suddenly. "No, _no_!" she said, almost stamping. "I can get home alone quite well. I want no one." Then she caught the lad's expression--and put her hand to her brow a moment. "Come back for me now at any rate--in an hour," she said in another voice. "Please take me to the train--of course. I must go then." "Oh, Laura, I _can't_ wait!" cried Polly from the stairs--"I wish I could. But mother's sending Daffady with the cart--and she'd be that cross." Laura came out to the stairway. "Don't wait. Just tell the carriage--mind"--she hung over the banisters, enforcing the words--"tell them that I'm coming by the later train. They're not to send down for me again--I can get a cab at the inn. Mind, Polly,--did you hear?" She bent forward, caught Polly's assent, and ran back to the child. * * * * *