"Aha!" cried Mrs. Wragge, cheerfully; "we'll have that Cashmere Robe
to-morrow. Come here! I want to whisper something to you. Just you look
at me--I'm going to sleep crooked, and the captain's not here to bawl at
me!"
The front room at the lodgings contained a sofa-bedstead which the
landlady arranged betimes for the night. This done, and the candles
brought in, Magdalen was left alone to shape the future course as her
own thoughts counseled her.
The questions and answers which had passed in her presence that evening
at the stationer's shop led plainly to the conclusion that one day more
would bring Noel Vanstone's present term of residence in Vauxhall Walk
to an end. Her first cautious resolution to pass many days together
in unsuspected observation of the house opposite before she ventured
herself inside was entirely frustrated by the turn events had taken. She
was placed in the dilemma of running all risks headlong on the next day,
or of pausing for a future opportunity which might never occur. There
was no middle course open to her. Until she had seen Noel Vanstone with
her own eyes, and had discovered the worst there was to fear from Mrs.
Pages:
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439