sigh of relief she slipped into a vacant corner, and gave herself
up to the luxury of being miserable. She longed for solitude in which to
face the full enormity of her misdeed, and to plan an immediate
reformation. She would throw herself bodily upon the mercy of Miss Joe
Hill, she would spare herself nothing; penance of any kind would be
welcome, bodily pain even--

She shifted her weight to the slender support of one high-heeled shoe
while she rested the other foot. Her hair, unused to its new
arrangement, pulled cruelly upon every restraining hair-pin, and her
head was beginning to ache.

"I deny the slavery of sense. I repudiate the bondage of matter. I
affirm spirit and freedom," she quoted to herself, but the thought
failed to have any effect.

A two-ringed circus was in progress at her right while at her left a
procession of camels and Egyptians was followed by a noisy crowd of
urchins. People were thronging in every direction, and she realized that
she was occasionally the recipient of a curious glance. She began to
watch rather anxiously for the return of her party. Ten minutes passed,
and still they did not come.

Suddenly the awful possibility presented itself that they might have
lost her. She had no money, and even with it, she knew she could not
find her way back to the hotel alone. Anxiety gained upon her in leaps.
In bitter remorse she upbraided herself for ever having strayed from the
blessed protection of Miss Joe Hill's authority. Gulfs of hideous
possibility yawned at her feet; imagination faltered at the things that
might befall a lone and unprotected lady in this bedlam of frivolity.

Just as her fear was turning to terror the party returned.

"Oh, here you are!" cried Floss. "We thought we had lost you. It was
just dandy, Miss Lucy; you ought to have gone. It makes you feel like
your feet are growing right out of the top of your head. Come on; we are
going to have our tintypes taken."

Strengthened by the fear of being left alone again, Miss Lucinda rallied
her courage, and once more followed in their wake. She was faint and
exhausted, but the one grain of comfort she extracted from the situation
was that through her present suffering she was atoning for her sins.

At midnight Dick said: "There's only one other thing to do. It's more
fun than all the rest put together. Come this way."

Miss Lucinda followed blindly. She had ceased to think; there were only
two realities left in the wor