She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. E. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. His aunt, here at McClintock's? It was unbelievable. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. She looked in the rear-view mirror.
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