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"About what, my dear?" said Mrs. Carter.

"Aint it the case, ma'am, that if you run away from your lawful guardians, you being, so to speak, a minor—that means under age, miss," she added, nodding to Christian—"aint it the case that you are locked up?"

Mrs. Carter looked hard at Judith. She then glanced at Christian. Christian was well dressed; beyond doubt she was rich. She must frighten her and then soothe her, for get money out of her she should, and would and could.

"Miss," she said, "I'm sorry for yer. My heart bleeds for yer, miss. Whoever made yer get into this scrape? It's true, miss; it's true. It happened to my first cousin. She was well born, miss—not like me. Her parents were most genteel. When a child she ran away from school, and for two years she was in a reformatory, miss—a prison-school. She was indeed, miss. She never come to any good; and she's in prison again now, miss, serving her time for burglarious action."

Christian had not the slightest idea what burglarious action was, but it had an awful sound. Her heart stood still with agony. It was scarcely likely that both Mrs. Carter and Judith were wrong. Mrs. Carter had her facts so glib, and she had such a wicked knowing look.