h too many plans; moreover,
in spite of it, Cecilia had slipped away from the house two or three
times, going and coming openly, and replying to any questions by the
simple answer that she had been to meet Bob. Angry outbreaks on the part
of her stepmother she received in utter silence, against which the waves
of Mrs. Rainham's wrath spent themselves in vain.

Indeed, the girl lived in a kind of waking dream of happy anticipation,
beside which none of the trials of life in Lancaster Gate had power to
trouble her. For on her first stolen visit to Mr. M'Clinton's office the
wonderful plan of flight to Australia had been revealed to her, and the
joy of the prospect blotted out everything else. Mr. M'Clinton, watching
her face, had been amazed by the wave of delight that had swept over it.

"You like it, then?" he had said. "You are not afraid to go so far?"

"Afraid--with Bob? Oh, the farther I can get from England the better,"
she had answered. "I have no friends here; nothing to leave, except the
memory of two bad years. And out there I should feel safe--she could not
get a policeman to bring me back." There was no need to ask who "she"
was.

Cecilia had made her preparations secretly. She had not much to do--Aunt
Margaret had always kept her well dressed, and the simple and pretty
things she had worn two years before, and which had never been unpacked
since she put on mourning for her aunt, still fitted her, and were
perfectly good. It had never seemed worth while to leave off wearing
mourning in Lancaster Gate--only when Bob had come home had she unpacked
some of her old wardrobe. Much was packed still, and in store under Mr.
M'Clinton's direction, together with many of Aunt Margaret's personal
possessions. It was as well that it was so, since Mrs. Rainham had
managed to annex a proportion of Cecilia's things for Avice. To
Lancaster Gate she had only taken a couple of trunks, not dreaming of
staying there more than a short time. So packing and flitting would be
easy, given ordinary luck and the certain co-operation of Eliza. Her few
necessary purchases had been made on one of her hurried excursions with
Bob; she had not dared to have the things sent home, and they had been
consigned in a tin uniform case to Bob's care.

She pondered over his note now, knitting her brows. It would be easy
enough to act defiantly and go at once; but if this meant that the
final flight were near at hand she did not wish to excite anew