hrust 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 aiml