Though broken with sorrow, her step was
resolute. Herminia followed her to her bed-room. There Dolly sat
long on the edge of the bed, crying silently, silently, and rocking
herself up and down like one mad with agony. At last, in one fierce
burst, she relieved her burdened soul by pouring out to her mother
the whole tale of her meeting with Walter Brydges. Though she hated
her, she must tell her. Herminia listened with deep shame. It
brought the color back into her own pale cheek to think any man
should deem he was performing an act of chivalrous self-devotion in
marrying Herminia Barton's unlawful daughter. Alan Merrick's child!
The child of so many hopes! The baby that was born to regenerate
humanity!
At last, in a dogged way, Dolly rose once more. She put on her hat
and jacket.
"Where are you going?" her mother asked, terrified.
"I am going out," Dolores answered, "to the post, to telegraph to
him."
She worded her telegram briefly but proudly:
"My mother has told me all. I understand your feeling. Our
arrangement is annulled.
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