And I--I think I'll go upstairs, Mamma, for I'm not very strong." And with this, and a curtsey and a smile, the poor child went her way.

The mother, as she led her up, cast back looks of anguish towards Dobbin.

The good fellow wanted no such appeal.

He loved her himself too fondly for that.

Inexpressible grief, and pity, and terror pursued him, and he came away as if he was a criminal after seeing her.
When Osborne heard that his friend had found her, he made hot and anxious inquiries regarding the poor child.