Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/247

Rh "But how is it possible? She seemed so very refined, so distinctly nice in every way."

"Well, I asked the clerk. He told me—"

"You mean the woman in the striped dress?"

"Certainly, certainly. She is that lovely child's mother."

"What a handicap to the poor girl."

"I should say so. All those people she's been playing around with had no idea what her mother was like, I suppose. She's been ill ever since she came. I wish I could have stayed a few days longer and seen just what would have happened when that woman appeared on the scene."

"What's the woman's story?"

"I don't know. I never heard of her before. Dallas is her name, from Boston."

"Poor girl. It's like having a ball and chain around her ankle to be obliged to drag a woman like that after her wherever she goes."

"Yes, but those things happen. Once I knew of a young man—charming—such aristocratic manners, and he came from the commonest family—vulgar people. Of course, being a man, he could escape his family, but a girl—a young girl like that"—the train began to move—"perfectly helpless—branded"—it moved faster—"a shame. Such a pity—Richard Grosvenor—" It moved still faster. The voices were drowned in the rumble of flying steel.

, had her mother heard? Was her mother awake? No, Laurel thought not. Her breathing