She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. “I heard the other day that she’d been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. Give him this letter, child, and bid him take it to the Lodge at Newgate without loss of time. ’ A sudden thought brought a frown to her brow. Only she hadn’t. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. It 163 invariably leads to trouble.
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