rs. Wragge (lulled
by the narcotic influence of annotating circulars, and eating and
drinking with an appetite sharpened by the captain's absence) withdrew
to an arm-chair, and fell asleep in an attitude which would have caused
her husband the acutest mental suffering; seven o'clock struck; the
shadows of the summer evening lengthened stealthily on the gray pavement
and the brown house-walls--and still the closed door opposite remained
shut; still the one window open showed nothing but the black blank of
the room inside, lifeless and changeless as if that room had been a
tomb.

Mrs. Wragge's meek snoring deepened in tone; the evening wore on
drearily; it was close on eight o'clock--when an event happened at last.
The street door opposite opened for the first time, and a woman appeared
on the threshold.

Was the woman Mrs. Lecount? No. As she came nearer, her dress showed her
to be a servant. She had a large door-key in her hand, and was evidently
going out to perform an errand. Roused partly by curiosity, partly by
the impulse of the moment, which urged her impetuous nature into action
after the passive endurance of many hours past, Magdalen snatched up
her bonnet, and determined to follow the servant to her destination,
wherever it might be.

The woman led her to the great thoroughfare of shops close at hand,
called Lambeth Walk. After proceeding some little distance, and looking
about her with the hesitation of a person not well acquainted with the
neighborhood, the servant crossed the road and entered a stationer's
shop. Magdalen crossed the road after her and followed her in.

The inevitable delay in entering the shop under these circumstances
made Magdalen too late to hear what the woman asked for. The first words
spoken, however, by the man behind the counter reached her ears, and
informed her that the servant's object was to buy a railway guide.

"Do you mean a Guide for this month or a Guide for July?" asked the
shopman, addressing his customer.

"Master didn't tell me which," answered the woman. "All I know is, he's
going into the country the day after to-morrow."

"The day after to-morrow is the first of July," said the shopman. "The
Guide your master wants is the Guide for the new month. It won't be
published till to-morrow."

Engaging to call again on the next day, the servant left the shop, and
took the way that led back to Vauxhall Walk.

Magdalen purchased the first trifle she saw on the counte