At one such time, on an evening in November, a sudden desire possessed her mind; she would go out into the streets of the town and see something of that life which she knew only in imagination, the traffic of highway and byway after dark, the masque of pleasure and misery of sin of which a young girl can know nothing, save from hints here and there in her reading, or from the occasional whispers and head-shakings of society's gossip.

Her freedom was complete; her absence, if noticed, would entail no questions; her mother doubtless would conclude that she was at her aunt Theresa's.

So she clad herself in walking attire of a kind not likely to attract observation, and set forth.

The tumult which had been in her blood all day received fresh impulse from the excitement of the adventure.

She had veiled her face, but the veil hindered her observation, and she threw it back.