arren returned a little later than the night before. Agnes went
away; Mrs. Warren drank whisky-and-water, and Connie was sent to bed.
Oh, it was a miserable night! And would her own people ever find her?
Would Sue be satisfied that Connie was not quite lost? And would Father
John look for her? Dear, kind, splendid Father John! What would she not
give to hear his magnificent voice as he preached to the people once
again? Would not her own father search heaven and earth to find his only
child? He was so good to Connie when he was not drunk--so proud of her,
too, so glad when she kissed him so anxious to do the best he could for
her! Would he give her up for ever? "Oh dear, dear!" thought the poor
child, "if it was not for the Woice I believe I'd go mad; but the
Woice--it holds me up. I'm 'appy enough w'en I 'ears it. Oh, little
Giles, thank yer for telling me o' the wonnerful Woice!"

CHAPTER IX.

A TRIP INTO THE COUNTRY.

Saturday dawned a very bright and beautiful day. Mrs. Warren got up
early, and Connie also rose, feeling somehow or other that she was going
to have a pleasanter time than she had yet enjoyed since her
imprisonment. Oh yes, she was quite certain now that she was imprisoned;
but for what object it was impossible for her even to guess.

Mrs. Warren bustled out quite an hour earlier than usual. She did not go
far on this occasion. She seemed a little anxious, and once or twice, to
Connie's amazement, dodged down a back street as though she were afraid.
Her red face turned quite pale when she did this, and she clutched
Connie's arm and said in a faltering voice:

"I'm tuk with a stitch in my side! Oh, my poor, dear young lydy, I'm
afeered as I won't be able to take yer for a long walk this blessed
morning."

But when Connie, later on, inquired after the stitch, she was told to
mind her own business, and she began to think that Mrs. Warren had
pretended.

They reached Waterloo at quite an early hour, and there they took
third-class tickets to a part of the country about thirty miles from
London. It took them over an hour to get down, and during that time
Connie sat by the window wrapped in contemplation. For the first time
she saw green grass and hills and running water, and although it was
midwinter she saw trees which seemed to her too magnificent and glorious
for words. Her eyes shone with happiness, and she almost forgot Mrs.
Warren's existence. At last they reached the little wayside sta