To
Mrs. Ledward she confided at least once a week, generally when she
paid her rent, her settled intention to go and find work of some
kind in the course of the next two or three days; till at length
this had become a standing joke with the landlady, who laughed
merrily as often as the subject was mentioned. Lotty had of late let
her thoughts turn to her father, whom she had never seen since their
parting. Not with any affection did she think of him, but, in her
despairing moments, it seemed to her impossible that he should still
refuse aid if she appealed to him for it. Several times of late she
had been on the point of putting her conviction to the test. She had
passed his house from time to time, and knew that he still lived
there. Perhaps the real reason of her hesitation was, not fear of
him, but a dread, which she would not confess to herself, lest he
should indeed prove obdurate, and so put an end to her last hope.
For what would become of her and of Ida if her health absolutely
failed? The poor creature shrank from the thought in horror. The
hope connected with her father grew more and more strong. But it
needed some very decided crisis to bring her to the point of
overcoming all the apprehensions which lay in the way of an appeal
to the stern old man This crisis had arrived.
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