"So, no address. That looks bad. Who's Archibald Dorrimore? May be that isn't his right name. He's some worthless spark who's got hold of her for his own amusement. Oh, the silly hussy! What could that prim Mistress Pinwell have been about? A fine boarding school indeed! She can't go back. But I won't have her here turning the heads of the men. That dull lout, Bob Dobson, 'ud as lieve throw his money into her lap as he'd swallow a mug of ale. What'll her fine friends do for her now? Nothing. She's ruined herself. Well, I won't have her ruin me." Mrs. Fenton worked her fury to such a height that she could no longer contain herself, and seizing her daughter's shoulder she shook her violently. The girl's tired eyelids slowly lifted and she looked vaguely into the angry face bending over her. "Tell me what all this means, you jade. What have you been up to? How is it you're in such a state? Who's been making a fool of you? Who's this Dorrimore? Are you married to him or not?" The good lady might have spared herself the trouble of pouring out this torrent of questions. The last was really the only one that mattered. "Married? No, I'm not," said Lavinia drowsily. "Don't bother me, mother. Let me sleep. I'll tell you everything, but not--not now. I'm too tired." "Tell me everything? I should think you will or I'll know the reason why. And it'll have to be the truth or I'll beat it out of you. Get up." There was no help for it. Lavinia knew her mother's temper when it was roused. Slowly rubbing her eyes she sat up, a rueful and repentant little beauty, but having withal an expression in her eyes which seemed to suggest that she wasn't going to be brow-beaten without a struggle. "I ran away from school to be married," said she with a little pause between each word. "I thought I was being taken to the Fleet, but when I saw the coach wasn't going the right way I knew I was being tricked. On London Bridge I broke the coach window, opened the door and escaped." "A parcel of lies! I don't believe one of 'em," interjected the irate dame. "I can't help that. It's the truth all the same. I cut my arm with the broken glass. Perhaps that'll convince you." Lavinia held out her bandaged arm. "No, it won't. What's become of your shoe?" "I took it off to break the window with the heel and afterwards lost it." Mrs. Fenton was silent. If Lavinia were telling false-hoods she told them remarkably well. She spoke without the slightest hesitation and the story certainly hung together.