She had been sent out under
an assumed name--a highly recommended orphan of honourable parentage. Her
distress, her burning cheeks, her endeavours to express her regret for
this deception were taken for a confession of guilt. "You attempted to
bring dishonour to my home," the German woman screamed at her.
Here's a misunderstanding for you! Flora de Barral, who felt the shame
but did not believe in the guilt of her father, retorted fiercely,
"Nevertheless I am as honourable as you are." And then the German woman
nearly went into a fit from rage. "I shall have you thrown out into the
street."
Flora was not exactly thrown out into the street, I believe, but she was
bundled bag and baggage on board a steamer for London. Did I tell you
these people lived in Hamburg? Well yes--sent to the docks late on a
rainy winter evening in charge of some sneering lackey or other who
behaved to her insolently and left her on deck burning with indignation,
her hair half down, shaking with excitement and, truth to say, scared as
near as possible into hysterics. If it had not been for the stewardess
who, without asking questions, good soul, took charge of her quietly in
the ladies' saloon (luckily it was empty) it is by no means certain she
would ever have reached England.
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