Samuel Bishop to the
teachings of his Church. Love, she made the high altar of her worship;
to that, unconsciously, she offered all prayers, made all sacrifice.
These dark moments hung heavy in her heart so long as they were
present; but one meeting with Traill was sufficient to drive them
in a body from her mind--gloomy phantoms of imagination which, in
the night, have vivid reality, and with the first welcome break of
morning are stricken out of sight.
When forty-five of the sixty pounds had been spent and she had bought
every conceivable thing that she required, purchasing from habit
where things were cheapest, she had brought the remainder back to
Traill.
He held her face, crumpling it, in his hands.
"What on earth sort of a child are you?" he asked.
"How do you mean?"
"Why--I give you a certain amount of money to spend on clothes and
you bring me back fifteen pounds like the little girl coming back
with change from the grocer's."
"But I've got everything I want," she replied, laughing.
"Have you got an opera cloak?"
"No, I don't want that."
"Have you got an umbrella?"
She laughed again--head thrown back, like a child at its father's
knee.
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