would not consent to go indoors until
repeatedly assured that Easton was not there, and that Nora would not
let him see her if he came. And when at length she yielded and went
into the house she would not sit down or take off her hat or jacket
until--crouching on the floor beside Nora's chair with her face hidden
in the latter's lap--she had sobbed out her pitiful confession, the
same things that she had unwittingly told to the same hearer so often
before during the illness, the only fact that was new was the account
of her wanderings that night.

She cried so bitterly and looked so forlorn and heartbroken and ashamed
as she faltered out her woeful story; so consumed with
self-condemnation, making no excuse for herself except to repeat over
and over again that she had never meant to do wrong, that Nora could
not refrain from weeping also as she listened.

It appeared that, unable to bear the reproach that Easton's presence
seemed to imply, or to endure the burden of her secret any longer, and
always haunted by the thought of the lake in the park, Ruth had formed
the dreadful resolution of taking her own life and the child's. When
she arrived at the park gates they were closed and locked for the night
but she remembered that there was another means of entering--the place
at the far end of the valley where the park was not fenced in, so she
had gone there--nearly three miles--only to find that railings had
recently been erected and therefore it was no longer possible to get
into the park by that way. And then, when she found it impossible to
put her resolve into practice, she had realized for the first time the
folly and wickedness of the act she had meant to commit. But although
she had abandoned her first intention, she said she could never go home
again; she would take a room somewhere and get some work to do, or
perhaps she might be able to get a situation where they would allow her
to have the child with her, or failing that she would work and pay
someone to look after it; but she could never go home any more. If she
only had somewhere to stay for a few days until she could get something
to do, she was sure she would be able to earn her living, but she could
not go back home; she felt that she would rather walk about the streets
all night than go there again.

It was arranged that Ruth should have the small apartment which had
been Frankie's playroom, the necessary furniture being obtained from a
second-hand