At Love's Cost - Page 274/342

She would have to go.

She thrust a few things into a bag and took out her purse and counted

the contents. They amounted to six pounds and a few shillings; but

small though the sum was, she thought that it would maintain her until

she could find some way of earning a livelihood, though at the moment

she had not the least idea what she could find to do. Without

undressing, she threw herself on the bed and tried to sleep; but her

heart ached too acutely and her brain was too active to permit of

sleep; and, try as she would, her mind would travel back to those brief

days of happiness at Herondale, and she was haunted by the remembrance

of Stafford and the love which she had lost; and at times that past was

almost effaced by the vision of Stafford seated beside Maude Falconer

at the concert.

As soon as she heard the servants moving about the house she rose, pale

and weary, and putting on her outdoor things, stole down-stairs with

her bag in her hand. The servants were busy in the kitchen, and she

unfastened the hall door and left the house without attracting any

attention. The fresh, morning air, while it roused her to a sense of

her position, revived and encouraged her. After all, she was young and

strong and--she looked up at the house of bondage which she was

leaving--she was free! Oh, blessed freedom! How often she had read of

it and heard it extolled; but she had never known until this moment how

great, how sweet a thing it was.

She waited at the mean little station until a workmen's train came up,

and, hustled by the crowd of sleepy and weary toilers, got into it.

When she left the terminus, she walked with a portion of the throng

which turned up Bishopsgate Street, though any other direction would

have suited her as well--or as little; for she had no idea where to go,

or what to do, beyond seeking some inexpensive lodging. She knew well

enough that she could not afford to go to a hotel; that she would have

to be content with a small room, perhaps an attic, and the plainest of

food, while she sought for work. It was soon evident to her that she

was not likely to find what she was looking for in the broad

thoroughfare of shops and offices, and, beginning to feel bewildered by

the crowd, which, early as it was, streamed along the pavements, she

turned off into one of the narrower streets.

The long arm of Coincidence which thrusts itself into all our affairs,

led her to the Minories, and to the very quay which Stafford had

reached in his aimless wanderings; and, mechanically she paused and

looked on dreamily at the bustle and confusion which reigned there.

Perhaps the presence of the sheep and cattle attracted her: she felt

drawn to them by sympathy with their hustled and hurried condition,

which so nearly resembled her own.