“Promise. I was helpless. . Mischief bubbled up in her. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. CHAPTER VII. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive.
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