to me all day, and I am going home."

Priscilla had not calculated on such a result, and it was inconvenient
to her. She began to talk more reasonably, but Denas would listen to
no apology. It suited her plans precisely to leave Priscilla in anger,
for if Priscilla thought she had gone home she would not of course
send any word to her parents. So she left the workroom in a pretended
passion, and shut the shop door after her with a clash that made Miss
Priscilla give a little scream and the forewoman ejaculate:

"Well, there then! A good riddance of such a bad piece! I do say that
for sure."

Very little did Denas care for the opinions of Priscilla and her
work-maidens. She knew that the word of any girl there could be bought
for a day's wage; she was as willing they should speak evil as well of
her. Yet it was with a heart full of anger at the day's petty slights
and wrongs that she hastened to the place mentioned by Roland. As she
turned into the street at one end the carriage entered it at the
other. It came to meet her; it stopped, and Roland leaped to her side.
In another moment she was in the carriage. Roland's arm was around
her; he was telling her how grateful he was; how happy! how proud! He
was promising her a thousand pleasures, giving her hope after hope;
vowing an unalterable and never-ending love.

And Denas surrendered herself to his charm. After the last three
dreadful days, it did seem a kind of heaven to be taken right out of a
life so hard and unlovely and so full of painful emotions; to be
kissed and flattered and to be treated like a lady. The four miles she
had expected to walk went like a happy dream; she was sorry when they
were passed and the bare railway station was reached. It was but a
small place lit by a single lamp, but Roland improvised a kind of
couch, and told her to sleep while he watched and smoked a cigar.

In a short time he returned, and said that there was no train to
Plymouth until midnight; but an express for London would pass in half
an hour, and they had better take it. Denas thought a moment, and
answered with a decision that made Roland look curiously at her: "No.
I will not go to London to be married. I know the preacher at
Plymouth. We will wait for the Plymouth train." It was not a very
pleasant wait. It was cold and damp and inexpressibly dreary, and
Roland could not avoid showing that he was disappointed in not taking
the London train.

But the hours go by, no ma