"Your mother? Not she," returned Hannah with a sniff of contempt. "Catch her a-cryin' over anything 'cept when she hasn't won a prize in a lottery. But come you in. I've ever so much to tell you. You'd best be off Reuben. I'll see you later."

Reuben who was one of the men employed at Coupland's soap works in the Old Bailey, looked a little disappointed, but he obeyed nevertheless.

"You've given us a pretty fright and your lady mother's been in a mighty tantrum. I tell you it's a wonder as she didn't tear my eyes out. She swore as it was all my fault a lettin' you go. But what have you come back for?"

"I had to. But don't bother, it's only for a few hours. Mother's out I know."

"Course she is. Simpson the cattle dealer's a-beauing her to Marybone Gardens. They won't be back this side o' midnight. Now just tell me what you been a-doin' of. You're a pretty bag o' mischief if ever there was one. Who's the man this time? T'aint the one as you runned away with, is it?"

"No, indeed," cried Lavinia, indignantly. "I don't want ever to see him again."

"Well, your mother does," returned Hannah with an odd kind of laugh.

"Whatever for?"

"I'll let you have the story d'rectly, but you tell me your tale first."

By this time they were in the shop and Hannah caught sight of Lavinia's white, drawn face and her tear-swollen eyes.

"You poor baby. What's your fresh troubles?"

"Nothing--that is, not much. I'm tired. I'm faint. Give me some coffee--cocoa--anything."

Faint indeed she was. At that meal with Lancelot Vane she had eaten very sparingly. She was too excited, too much absorbed and interested in seeing him so ravenous to think of herself. In addition she had gone through much fatigue.

"Coffee--cocoa--to be sure," cried the kindly Hannah, "an' a hot b.u.t.tered cake besides. You shan't say a word till I've gotten them ready."

The cook had gone. There was no one in the house save Hannah. The two went into the kitchen where the fire was burning low--with the aid of the bellows Hannah soon fanned the embers into a flame and she was not happy until Lavinia had eaten and drank.

Then Lavinia told the story of her adventures, hesitatingly at first and afterwards with more confidence seeing that Hannah sympathised and did not chide or ridicule.

"An' do 'ee mean to tell me you're going to Twitenham to-morrow?"

Lavinia nodded.

"What, over a worthless young man who gets drunk at the first chance he has?"

Lavinia fired up.

"He's not worthless and he wasn't drunk."

"Hoity-toity. What a pother to be sure. Well, I'll warrant he is by this time."

"How do you know? If he is it won't be his fault. The others were drinking and filling his gla.s.s. I saw them, the wretches," cried Lavinia with heightened colour. "But it is nothing to me," she went on tossing her head. "Why should I bother if a man drinks or doesn't drink?"

"Why indeed," said Hannah ironically. "Since you don't care we needn't talk about him."

"No, we won't, if you've only unkind things to say."

"Eh, would you have me tell you how well you've behaved and how good you are? First you run away to be married to a man you don't care for, and in the next breath you take no end of trouble and tire yourself to death over another man you say you don't care for either. Are you going through your life like that--men loving you and you leaving them?"

"You're talking nonsense, Hannah. You know nothing about it," cried Lavinia angrily. "Let me manage my own affairs my own way and tell me what mother's doing. You read me a riddle about her just now."

"'Tisn't much of a riddle. It's just what one might guess she'd do when she's on the scent for money. You've become mighty valuable to her all of a sudden."

"I! Valuable? Oh la! That's too funny."

"You think so, do you child? Wait till you hear. _I_ call it a monstrous shame an' downright wicked. A mother sell her own child! It's horrible--horrible."

"What are you talking about, you tiresome Hannah?" cried the girl opening her eyes very wide.

"Ah, you may well ask. After you was locked up she pocketted that letter from your spark and off she went to his lodgings in the Temple. She well plied herself with cordials an' a drop o' gin or two afore she started, an' my name's not Hannah if she didn't repeat the dose as she came back.

I knowed it at once by her red face an' her tongue a-wagging nineteen to the dozen. She can't keep her mouth shut when she's like that. It all comed out. She'd been to that Mr. Der--Dor--what's his name?"

"Dorrimore. Yes--yes. Go on. I want to hear," exclaimed Lavinia breathlessly.

"I wouldn't ha' said a word agen her if she'd insisted upon the fine young gentleman paying for his frolic a trying to fool you--which he didn't do an' you may thank yourself for your sperrit Miss Lavvy--that was only what a mother ought to do, but to sell her own child to make money out of her own flesh an' blood--well I up an' told her to her face what I thought of her."

"Make money out of _me_, good gracious Hannah, how?"

"The fellow offered her fifty guineas if she'd hand you over to him. He swore he'd make a lady of you."

"What! Marry me?"

"Marry you! Tilly vally, no such thing. He'd spend money on you--fine dresses, trinkets, fallals and all that, but a wedding ring, the parson--not a bit of it. An' when he tired of you he'd fling you away like an old glove."

"Would he?" cried Lavinia indignantly. "Then he won't."

"No, but it means a tussle with your mother. What a tantrum she went in to be sure when she found you was gone. She fell upon poor me an' called me all the foul names she could lay her tongue to. Look at these."

Hannah pushed back her cap and her hair and showed four angry red streaks down the side of her face. Mrs. Fenton had long nails and knew how to use them.

Lavinia was horrified. Throwing her arms round the honest creature's neck she kissed her again and again. Then she exclaimed despairingly:--

"What am I do to do to-night? I dursn't stay here."

"I'm not so sure about that. I'm thinking it can be managed. Your mother's gone to Marybone Gardens with Dawson, the Romford cattle dealer. They won't be home till latish an' I'll go bail as full o'

strong waters as they can carry. It's not market day to-morrow and your mother'll lie in bed till noon. You can share my bed an' I'll let 'ee out long afore the mistress wakes."

"Oh thank you--thank you Hannah. How clever you are to think of all this."

"Not much cleverness either. Trust a woman for finding out a way when love's hanging on it."

"Love?" rapped out Lavinia sharply.

"Aye, it's love as is taking you to Twitenham with the young man's rubbishy play."

"You've not read it, Hannah. It's not fair to call it rubbishy."