"I'm a dreadful sight, Hannah," said she dolefully.
"You'll be better when you've had a wash and done your hair. Your
cloak's spoilt. What a pity! Take it off and let me brush away the mud
and see if I can smooth out the creases."
Lavinia stretched herself, yawned and slowly pulled herself up, sitting
on the side of the bed for a minute or two before she commenced her
toilette. Hannah helped her to dress to the accompaniment of a running
commentary on the state of her clothing.
"What am I to do about shoes?" asked Lavinia, when this part of her
wearing apparel was reached.
"You won't be wanting any for a time I'm thinking, Miss Lavvy."
"Not wanting any shoes? Whatever do you mean?"
"Your mother means to lock you in this room for a while. She was for
keeping you for a day or two on bread and water, but I talked her out of
it."
Lavinia started in dismay. Then she burst out:--
"I won't endure such treatment. I won't, Hannah! You'll help me to run
away, won't you?"
"Not till I know what's going to become of you."
"But if I'm a prisoner you're my gaoler and you can let me out whenever
you choose."
"No I can't. I've to hand over the key to your mother."
"So you can after I'm gone."
"And what do you suppose I'm to say to her when that happens?"
"Oh, what you like, Hannah. I don't believe you're afraid of anybody.
You're so brave," said Lavinia, coaxingly.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86