Sue in
silk. It would be delightful to put it on. She did so. The skirt was
much too long, but with the aid of a whole boxful of pins, she managed
to bundle it up round her waist. Then came a soft, many-colored Paisley
shawl. Would any one in all the world think of the little machinist if
she sallied forth in purple silk and Paisley shawl? Sue did not believe
it possible. She put on the shawl, and tied on her head an old-fashioned
bonnet, trimmed with many-colored ribbons. There was further, in the
wonderful box, an old remnant of gauze. This would act as a veil. Now,
indeed, she was completely disguised. She thought herself very grand,
and wondered had the Prince ever bought finer clothes for the real
Cinderella. She shut the box again, tripped downstairs, and out into the
street. She had not been out for a whole month now, and the fresh,
frosty air, even coming to her through the musty gauze, was very
refreshing. She walked quickly. She had an object in view. Very
purposeful was her careworn little face as she stepped briskly along.
She had a problem to solve. It was too weighty for her young shoulders;
she must get the advice of another. She meant to consult Father
John--not by words; no, not even with him would she dare confide her
secret. But he preached now both Sunday morning and Sunday evening. She
would stand with the crowd and listen to his sermon. Perhaps once again
there would be a message for her in it. She had not forgotten that last
sermon of his; and that last message sent to her from God by his lips
had been with her all through her month of captivity.

It had been a sad and anxious month for Sue, and now its crisis had
come, for the kind people who had protected her could do so no longer;
she could no longer eat their bread, nor accept the shelter of their
home. No; Sue quite agreed with Pickles that it would be impossible for
her to stay in hiding always. Better go forth at once and meet the worst
and have it over. She would be put in prison. Yes--that is, either she
or Peter Harris would be put in prison. Pickles had quite brought her
round to the belief that Harris was really the guilty party. He had done
a very, very dreadful thing. Sue could not understand why he had acted
so badly, so cruelly by her. Surely he was the right person to go to
prison; she could not bear his crime for him. But then, again, it would
be very like Jesus Christ if she did. It was wonderful how the thought
of the Great Ex