s, the crowd
dispersed, and Magdalen was alone again.

"So be it!" she thought, bitterly. "I should only have distressed her.
We should only have had the misery of parting to suffer again."

She mechanically retraced her steps; she returned, as in a dream, to the
open space of the Park. Arming itself treacherously with the strength of
her love for her sister, with the vehemence of the indignation that she
felt for her sister's sake, the terrible temptation of her life fastened
its hold on her more firmly than ever. Through all the paint and
disfigurement of the disguise, the fierce despair of that strong and
passionate nature lowered, haggard and horrible. Norah made an object
of public curiosity and amusement; Norah reprimanded in the open street;
Norah, the hired victim of an old woman's insolence and a child's
ill-temper, and the same man to thank for it who had sent Frank to
China!--and that man's son to thank after him! The thought of her
sister, which had turned her from the scene of her meditated deception,
which had made the consciousness of her own disguise hateful to her, was
now the thought which sanctioned that means, or any means, to compass
her end; the thought which set wings to her feet, and hurried her back
nearer and nearer to the fatal house.

She left the Park again, and found herself in the streets without
knowing where. Once more she hailed the first cab that passed her, and
told the man to drive to Vauxhall Walk.

The change from walking to riding quieted her. She felt her attention
returning to herself and her dress. The necessity of making sure that no
accident had happened to her disguise in the interval since she had left
her own room impressed itself immediately on her mind. She stopped
the driver at the first pastry-cook's shop which he passed, and there
obtained the means of consulting a looking-glass before she ventured
back to Vauxhall Walk.

Her gray head-dress was disordered, and the old-fashioned bonnet was
a little on one side. Nothing else had suffered. She set right the few
defects in her costume, and returned to the cab. It was half-past one
when she approached the house and knocked, for the second time, at Noel
Vanstone's door. The woman-servant opened it as before.

"Has Mrs. Lecount come back?"

"Yes, ma'am. Step this way, if you please."

The servant preceded Magdalen along an empty passage, and, leading her
past an uncarpeted staircase, opened the door of a room a