per hazarded the candid surmise that the cabby would make ten
shillings by the job. But there were plenty more cabs; there would be
one up in a minute and the rain moreover was going to stop. 'Well, that
_is_ sharp practice!' said Mr. Wendover. He made no further allusion to
the identity of the lady.

IX

The rain did stop while they stood there, and a brace of hansoms was not
slow to appear. Laura told her companion that he must put her into
one--she could go home alone: she had taken up enough of his time. He
deprecated this course very respectfully; urged that he had it on his
conscience to deliver her at her own door; but she sprang into the cab
and closed the apron with a movement that was a sharp prohibition. She
wanted to get away from him--it would be too awkward, the long,
pottering drive back. Her hansom started off while Mr. Wendover, smiling
sadly, lifted his hat. It was not very comfortable, even without him;
especially as before she had gone a quarter of a mile she felt that her
action had been too marked--she wished she had let him come. His
puzzled, innocent air of wondering what was the matter annoyed her; and
she was in the absurd situation of being angry at a desistence which she
would have been still angrier if he had been guiltless of. It would have
comforted her (because it would seem to share her burden) and yet it
would have covered her with shame if he had guessed that what she saw
was wrong. It would not occur to him that there was a scandal so near
her, because he thought with no great promptitude of such things; and
yet, since there was--but since there was after all Laura scarcely knew
what attitude would sit upon him most gracefully. As to what he might be
prepared to suspect by having heard what Selina's reputation was in
London, of that Laura was unable to judge, not knowing what was said,
because of course it was not said to _her_. Lionel would undertake to
give her the benefit of this any moment she would allow him, but how in
the world could _he_ know either, for how could things be said to him?
Then, in the rattle of the hansom, passing through streets for which the
girl had no eyes, 'She has lied, she has lied, she has lied!' kept
repeating itself. Why had she written and signed that wanton falsehood
about her going down to Lady Watermouth? How could she have gone to Lady
Watermouth's when she was making so very different and so extraordinary
a use of the hours she had annou