The New Magdalen

Lady Janet turned round on the threshold of the door.

"I never forgive ingratitude," she said. "Go back to the Refuge."

The door opened and closed on her. Mercy was alone again in the room.

Unforgiven by Horace, unforgiven by Lady Janet! She put her hands to her

burning head and tried to think. Oh, for the cool air of the night!

Oh, for the friendly shelter of the Refuge! She could feel those sad

longings in her: it was impossible to think.

She rang the bell--and shrank back the instant she had done it. Had

_she_ any right to take that liberty? She ought to have thought of it

before she rang. Habit--all habit. How many hundreds of times she had

rung the bell at Mablethorpe House!

The servant came in. She amazed the man--she spoke to him so timidly:

she even apologized for troubling him!

"I am sorry to disturb you. Will you be so kind as to say to the lady

that I am ready for her?"

"Wait to give that message," said a voice behind them, "until you hear

the bell rung again."

Mercy looked round in amazement. Julian had returned to the library by

the dining-room door.