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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Love and Life"


Springing from the bed, she tried the other door of her room, which
was level with the wainscoting, and not readily observed by a person
unfamiliar with the house. It yielded to her hand, and she knew
there was a whole suite of empty rooms thus communicating with one
another. It was one of those summer nights that are never absolutely
dark, and there was a full moon, so that she had light enough to
throw off her conspicuous white habit, all scorched and singed as
it was, and to put on her dark blue cloth one, with her camlet cloak
and hood. She made up a small bundle of clothes, took her purse,
which was well filled with guineas and silver, and moved softly to
the door. Hide and seek had taught her all the modes of eluding
observation, and with her walking shoes in her hand, and her feet
slippered, she noiselessly crept through one empty room after
another, and descended the stair into her own lobby, where she knew
how to open the sash door.
One moment the thought that Mr. Belamour would protect her made her
pause, but the white phantom she had seen seemed more unreal than
the voice she was accustomed to, and both alike had vanished and
abandoned her to her fate. Nay, she had been cheated from the first.
Everything had given way with her. My Lady might be coming to send
her to prison.


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