e
of his wrath, and at this moment it was such support that she most
needed. As they journeyed together in the cab, the married sister
seemed to be in the higher spirits of the two. She was sure, at any
rate, that those to whom she was going would place themselves on her
side. Nora had her own story to tell about Hugh Stanbury, and was
by no means so sure that her tale would be received with cordial
agreement. "Let me tell them myself," she whispered to her sister.
"Not to-night, because they will have so much to say to you; but I
shall tell mamma to-morrow."

The train by which the Rowleys were to reach London was due at the
station at 7.30 p.m., and the two sisters timed their despatch from
St. Diddulph's so as to enable them to reach the hotel at eight. "We
shall be there now before mamma," said Nora, "because they will have
so much luggage, and so many things, and the trains are always late."
When they started from the door of the parsonage, Mr. Outhouse gave
the direction to the cabman, "Gregg's Hotel, Baker Street." Then at
once he began to console himself in that they were gone.

It was a long drive from St. Diddulph's in the east, to Marylebone in
the west, of London. None of the party in the cab knew anything of
the region through which they passed. The cabman took the line by the
back of the Bank, and Finsbury Square and the City Road, thinking it
best, probably, to avoid the crush at Holborn Hill, though at the
expense of something of a circuit. But of this Mrs. Trevelyan and
Nora knew nothing. Had their way taken them along Piccadilly, or
through Mayfair, or across Grosvenor Square, they would have known
where they were; but at present they were not thinking of those once
much-loved localities. The cab passed the Angel, and up and down the
hill at Pentonville, and by the King's Cross stations, and through
Euston Square,--and then it turned up Gower Street. Surely the man
should have gone on along the New Road, now that he had come so far
out of his way. But of this the two ladies knew nothing,--nor did the
nurse. It was a dark, windy night, but the lamps in the streets had
given them light, so that they had not noticed the night. Nor did
they notice it now as the streets became narrower and darker. They
were hardly thinking that their journey was yet at an end, and the
mother was in the act of covering her boy's face as he lay asleep on
the nurse's lap, when the cab was stopped. Nora looking out through
t